Page 13 of Fatal Strike
Leah wrapped her fingers around her weapon. “At two o’clock, a man’s leaning against a late-model Ford pickup parked in the driveway. A second man is in the same position on the opposite side of the truck.” She took a mental snapshot of the first man at her two o’clock ... sleeveless shirt, mustache, early thirties. She slid into the passenger side of Jon’s truck.
Jon opened his door and started the engine. “They’re taking notes. Keep your eyes open. Your brain engaged. And your hand close to your firearm.”
“Hard to miss us dressed like snipers. You have the organized gang training. What does your gut say?”
“We’re the main attraction, and from the looks of those guys, they don’t live in this neighborhood.”
He drove past a group of small girls huddled together on porch steps with their dolls. A boy rode his bike in front of Jon’s truck, and he swerved to miss the kid, who never looked.
Once they left the area with no incidents, Leah replayed the interview with Silvia Ortega, reexamining body language and evaluating words. She learned a long time ago people were driven by what they thought about the most. Whatever surfaced each morning when they opened their eyes ruled their hearts. Good. Evil. Love. Hate. Benevolence. Sex. Greed. For Silvia Ortega, love for Dylan occupied every breath and most likely her heart.
“Analyzing?” Jon’s voice broke her silent interlude.
“Not sure if I should feel sorry for Silvia Ortega or shake her for naiveté. She’s blinded by love.”
“Love takes many forms,” Jon said. “Like you, I want Dylan to be exonerated for her sake. But her motherly feelings don’t negate his possible guilt, not only in the death of Judge Mendez but the other two victims as well. When she stuffed the pack ofMarlboros into the chair cushion, I assumed they belonged to him. When she claimed they didn’t, I knew she’d lie, do anything to protect him.”
“Doubt she’ll ask him to contact us.”
Jon blew out obvious frustration. “Was he there hiding and listening to our conversation?”
She’d considered the same thing. Without a search warrant, they had no jurisdiction to check each room. Leah doubted the BOLO would produce the man they were looking for anytime soon.
“We also need a search warrant and a surveillance team assigned to monitor Silvia Ortega’s activities.”
Leah sent the text and checked her phone. “From what Edgar Whitson told us about Dylan helping him as a boy, makes me wonder when things went downhill.”
“Peer pressure and not having the right man in his life,” Jon said. “Hits all income brackets.”
She despised seeing people destroy their lives. “Dylan’s record makes him a repeat offender, and I’m sure his mother knows the stats. If he’s guilty, he has to accept responsibility for his own actions.”
“We all do. Sounds like your parents instilled strong values.”
“They did.” Too bad she didn’t understand their actions at the time. She needed to get past this subject before he asked another question. “I’d like to dig deeper into Dylan’s background, talk to those who know him.” Behavior analysts at Quantico had been assigned to develop the Veneno profile, but despite the urgency of this case, their evaluation and recommendations could take weeks.
“Why don’t you try the girlfriend first?”
Leah pressed in the number Silvia had given her for ElenaJames. A young woman answered on the second ring with a perky response. “Elena, this is FBI Special Agent Leah Riesel. We’re looking for Dylan Ortega.”
“The FBI? Seriously?”
“Yes. Do you know where Dylan is?”
“I haven’t seen him for over a week. We broke up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Elena said.
“What happened?”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re done.”
Had she broken up with Dylan or lied for him? “Do you know any of his friends or where he hangs out?”
“You’d have to ask his mother.”
“We talked to her. She gave us your number.”
