Page 51 of Concrete Evidence
“None. I’ve taken precautions since driving to Houston. I’ve replaced my phone and laptop and kept my whereabouts secret. But the man on the motorcycle must have followed me to Houston. I—”
“Whoa, guys,” Roden said. “The same motorcycle you saw at the family cemetery?”
Avery pressed her lips together. “Yes. A man on the same color and type of Yamaha motorcycle stopped me outside the hotel. Told me not to talk to Marc Wilkins, and the FBI couldn’t help me.”
Roden turned to Marc. “Did you know about this?”
Marc nodded. “Meant to tell you. Every time I thought about it, something came up. Sorry. Avery, you cannot go back to your hotel. Whoever is responsible for the threat and tonight’s explosion knows exactly where you are.”
“And if I change hotels, the person will find me again. I’m not running.”
“You came to me for help, and I’m giving you professional advice.” The woman raised his blood pressure with her stubbornness.
“You two are pathetic,” Roden said. “Listen to the voice of reason from the one who missed the invite for Mexican food. The FBI is primarily a fact-finding organization. We put together reports and send those files to who is prosecuting a case. You’re in danger and witnessed a crime. Let the FBI do their job and place you in a safe house.”
She massaged the back of her neck. “Marc tried to persuade me to change hotels before tonight, but I have the same answer for you as I had for him then. Tomorrow I’ll think through your request. But not now.”
Marc watched her tremble. The trauma from the explosion and concern for her grandfather had caught up to her. “Roden, can we arrange for surveillance at the hotel tonight and until we can get her moved?”
“Imagine so.” He typed again into his phone.
Exhaustion weighed on her delicate features. “Avery, let Roden take you to the hotel. I’ll be here until the IV finishes dripping. Then he can play taxi for me. Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“I’m tired and my arm is... uncomfortable.” She peered at Marc. “In this whole mess, aren’t you afraid for your mother and sister?”
Their safety had burrowed into his mind. He glanced at Roden.
“On it too. I’ll get someone to check on them both.”
Marc pushed on. “Avery, have you been threatened more than once?”
She stood and walked to the curtained partition. After looking around her, she returned to the chair. “We should talk.”
30
MARC TRUSTED HIS GUT,and his instincts told him whatever Avery had to say would irritate him. Or make him crazy worried. “Are these facts I should have had right from the beginning?”
She nodded. “Trust is hard. But after tonight, you’ve earned it. I’m sorry.”
He thought she’d withheld information from him. “Roden, would you stand at the curtain and keep an eye out?”
“Sure thing.” He took a block position from his football days.
Avery’s sad blue eyes emitted relief. “Thanks.” She focused on Marc. “On Tuesday night, the day after the murder, I received a call on my personal cell phone, the one I later destroyed. A distorted voice said, ‘The unfortunate incident sure made a mess of things.’ I asked who was calling, and the voice said, ‘A messenger.’ The voice told me to do exactly as the senator told me.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “And the man on the motorcycle later called himself the Messenger, but you already know about him.”
“I’m listening.”
“The voice said my life was worth nothing. I asked for the meaning, and the voice threatened to kill my granddad too.”
Had the senator been blackmailed or coerced into something—possibly criminal? “Have you heard from the caller since you tossed your phone?” Marc didn’t know whether to unload his anger or attempt to comfort her, but the agony in his body won out. “I’ve met with you three times since then, and you’ve not mentioned the first threat. Seems to me tonight he attempted to follow through with near accuracy.”
Her eyes shot firebolts at him. “Would you risk the life of someone you love?”
He wanted to get out of that hospital bed and shake her. The woman dribbled facts when it suited her. “I wouldn’t stand in the way of those trying to help.”
“Hey,” Roden said from the curtained opening. “Nothing will be solved by you two tossing acid at each other.”
Marc failed to take into consideration she’d been hurt too. “You’re right. Avery, I apologize. I know you’re worried for yourself and your granddad, so let’s talk through this.” He held out his hand for her to take. She hesitated, then slipped hers into his.Show patience. Gentleness.But he still wanted to cuff her to a metal pole. “Have you told me everything?”
