Page 34 of Concrete Evidence
Feel free to send questions my way, and I’ll get back to you ASAP.
Give Mia a hug for me. I’ll be home soon.
Avery
Craig must have been monitoring his email because his response came at lightning speed.
Avery,
You aren’t making sense. Something is very wrong, and it scares me. I demand to know where you and the senator are hiding out and why.
Leanne stopped by earlier. Been here every day since Wednesday night. She was in tears because she can’t locate you. Would you let her know you’re okay?
Craig
Craig would have to deal with life by himself. But Leanne was another matter. If Avery hadn’t promised Granddad not to contact her, Avery would be pouring out her heart to her best friend.
Avery answered the mound of emails from Craig regarding the construction company and ranch before she closed the lid on her laptop. Although she preferred to work alone, one more day cooped up in this hotel might cause her to check into a psychiatric hospital. For now, she must take every precaution to protect herself from the media.
Avery massaged her neck muscles. She believed Granddad’s lectures and encouragement to grow into an independent woman would sustain her. But she’d waited too long to discover her own belief system, especially faith. Later this afternoon, she’d begin reading Matthew. Reputable sites were filled with Bible study guides, and she’d use them to discover what intimacy with God meant for her.
She stood and grabbed her room key. A part of her wanted a face-to-face with the messenger/assassin character to pose a few questions of her own. Deep in the pit of her stomach, she sensed it would eventually happen. Mia’s urging for Avery to carry her Sig might not be that far off the logic zone.
Stress invaded her whole body, and exercise always helped. Unfortunately, Darcy grazed miles away as well as her stallion Zoom. She’d use the hotel’s workout area to work out the tension while her brain fired neurons to help deal with myriad problems. Midway through tying her tennis shoes, her mind drifted to Agent Marc Wilkins. Their time together topped her curiosity list, but she had no expectations. He’d offered personal information, including thenews about his half sister, and attempted to pry a few things from her. Smiling, she recalled how he probed her by asking the same questions in various ways. But she’d been taught by the best on how to avoid answering open-ended inquiries and, in Marc’s case, his method of interrogation.
Marc was too cute for his own good, as Mia would say. Eyes were her go-to barometer to analyze everyone she met, and his brown pools smiled with warmth. He’d asked to see her again, but she declined. More than a curiosity, an attraction existed on her part. Why had she refused?
If not for the current circumstances, she might encourage getting to know him better.
If not for the current circumstances, Marc wouldn’t show any interest in her. His motivation for friendship had everything to do with Granddad and nothing about her.
22
LATE AFTERNOON,Marc waited outside the Brazos River Ranch’s iron gate for entry onto the property. The security camera had captured his pickup, and the electronic device had swallowed and spit out Roden’s and his IDs. From his vantage point, no buildings were in view.
Marc palmed the steering wheel. “Does it seem to you like all we do is wait?”
“It’s a prerequisite for our job, and you do it so well.” Roden’s attention stayed fixed on the spotted longhorn cattle and magnificent quarter horses dotting the perfectly groomed, rolling acres of white fencing. “Look at the size of the horns on that bull. Can you imagine what the animal is worth? Maybe I should have gone into pro ball instead of law enforcement.”
“We’re talking family money, politics, and a lucrative business.”
“Check the financials of a few football players. I’m knee-deep inenvy right now. Each of my girls could have a horse, which might keep them off their phones. At least some of the time.”
“The key word ismight.”
Roden swung a frown at him. “Your time’s coming. Just see how fun it is trying to figure out a teenage girl’s mind. Toss in erratic emotions, and you’re gonna need a playbook. Oh, don’t forget the drama.”
Marc cringed. “Not ready to think about it yet.”
“You’d better be. Grandma won’t last much longer.”
“I know. Need to find a house in a reputable school district.”
“Or a private school.”
“What kind?”
“Christian.”
