Page 93 of Concrete Evidence
She crashed through to the scene and joined them. “Are you okay? I heard the gunfire, so I grabbed my Sig.”
“I’m fine. What happened to staying in your room?”
She huffed. “I deleted it.”
“Spoken like a true Elliott,” the deputy said.
The senator stepped into the scene. “Thanks, Deputy.” He peered down at Drendle. “How did you get mixed up in this, Jake?”
“None of your business. You’re going down, old man. Just watch what happens.”
“If you didn’t already have a bullet—” The senator stopped midsentence. No doubt thinking about the repercussion of finishing those words in front of law enforcement.
Drendle sneered. “Keep talkin’, old man.” He spit at Avery. “I should have let you die.”
53
MARC WOKE WHEN HIS PHONE’S ALARMalerted him to 5:30a.m. Three and a half hours of sleep should give him enough rest to push through the day. Maybe ten years ago. Between the throbbing headache and his body screaming out for rest, he’d pose as a candidate for Pathetic FBI Special Agent of the Year. He tossed off the blanket and headed for the shower before a one-on-one with Mia.
Hot water soothed his aching body. The idea of spending the rest of the day there sounded good—until he remembered yesterday his father’s body had been autopsied. Another reason to stop whining and get out of the shower.
He slowly descended the stairway leading to the kitchen and smelled the fixings of sausage, jalapeños, and spices that would tickle the taste buds of the dead. Probably a bad metaphor with the case but undeniably true.
“Mornin’, good-lookin’,” he said to Mia, who stirred togethercorn bread batter. Dressed in jeans, sandals, and a button-down shirt, she appeared outfitted for the day.
She glanced up and frowned. “Morning to you. Why are you up so early? Expected you to sleep in after last night.” She anchored one hand on her hip. “You look like the bad side of a beating.”
“Feel like it too.”
She nodded at the coffee station. “Just finished.”
“You’re a saint.” He poured a mug decorated with a motif of the Brazos River Ranch. “Bet you’ll be glad when we’re all gone.”
She handed him a package of M&M’S, then poured corn bread batter into a huge cast-iron skillet. “Depends on how I look at it. I love cooking for guests, but I hate what’s brought y’all here. The senator is the finest man I’ve ever met. Oh, he had his faults and made me angry plenty of times, but his heart is one of a true gentleman who loves Jesus and wants the best for everyone.”
Marc had contemplated Mia’s possible involvement in the crimes. He’d observed her verbal and nonverbal communication, and she’d demonstrated admiration for the senator. “I want this ended too.” He took a drink of the coffee. The first sip of the day was always the best. “How well were you acquainted with the Drendle kid?”
“Ah, you’re up early to question me?”
Marc heard the teasing in her voice. “And if I am? Besides drinking the best coffee in the state and basking in the company of the most beautiful woman in Texas.”
“My youngest son thought sweet-talking me would get him whatever he wanted too.”
“Did it work?”
She shook a wooden spoon at him. “I wised up to him real fast.” She shook her head. “Okay, Jake Drendle stayed to himself. A loner you’d call him. A little odd. Far as I know, he did his job until Craig fired him for abusing a horse.”
“He has a clean police record and lives not far from here with his parents. You said odd?”
“More like peculiar. Can’t put my finger on it. Could just be his way.”
“What can you tell me about his folks?”
“They’ve been a part of the community their whole lives, but I don’t know them well. What will happen to Jake?”
“After the doctor releases him from the hospital, he’ll be in jail. Pulling a weapon on a federal officer with the intent to kill is a serious charge.” Would a scared nineteen-year-old give him the information to stop the killing?
“Did he tell you much last night?”
