Page 29 of Concrete Evidence
“No. Why?”
“Any family or friends here in Houston?”
“No, and I still want to know why.”
“I’d prefer you keep all details about this case to yourself unless the Army Corps needs a statement.”
“I mentioned this earlier, but should I contact an attorney?”
“Up to you. I’d rather you hired a bodyguard.”
She startled. “My grandfather warned me about potential danger.”
“He may be aware of unsavory people.”
“You might be right, and I’m taking precautions.” She swallowed hard.
“What aren’t you telling me? I’m not the enemy.”
She clenched her fist. “Do you remember me saying I saw a blue Yamaha Tracer 9GT at the cemetery?”
“Yes, but you were unable to get plate numbers.”
“This afternoon, I walked to a church a few blocks from here. I needed time to think about our conversation.”
Marc listened to her story, and his analytical mind took over. “Anything about him seem familiar?”
“No. He had a trim body and narrow shoulders. He wore a helmet and sunglasses. I didn’t recognize the voice.”
“You should change hotels.”
She steepled her fingers. “If he found me here and knows I talked to you, then he’s watching my every move.” She stopped. “How did he know I talked to you?”
“Was anyone aware of your plans?”
“No one. My phone’s a burner.”
“The senator requested you talk to me. Perhaps his phone’s bugged.”
“True.” Silence mounted between them before she continued. “When Granddad gave me those instructions, he still had his regular phone. Okay, if his phone was bugged, then the guy followed me and assumed I’d spoken to you. Still means he’s watching my every move.”
Marc made a mental note to check the security cameras around the FBI building and her hotel. Avery’s theory about being tracked held ground, and if a vehicle or motorcycle matching the Yamaha’s description hit the security cam’s radar, he’d move one step closer to ending the case.
“Did you get the plate numbers this time?”
She shook her head. “The cyclist wove in and around traffic before I could get a single digit.” She glanced away. “I’m usually good with numbers. No excuse for not paying attention.”
“Avery, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re upset and a crime’s been committed.” Marc needed to gain her trust for too many reasons to process. “We’ll do our best to find him.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you had dinner? I know it’s late.”
She frowned. “Does dinner fall under FBI protocol? Because it’s not listed on the website, and I read most of it.”
“Nope. Personal all the way.”
“Why?”
