Page 62 of Concrete Evidence
Avery,
I’m sorry I didn’t mention the ranch hand’s name. It’s Jake Drendle, and he mistreated a horse. Warned him twice before. The phone’s been ringing off the hook, and I sound like an idiot with my constant “I don’t know how to contact the senator or his daughter” reply. People want to deal directly with one of you. I need you back here.
Craig
She chose not to respond. Craig’s requests sounded like a leaky faucet.Stop it.He carried a huge burden. Taking out her frustrations on him wasn’t fair.
As much as she loved Leanne, her friend would have to wait. The situation had hit code red, too dangerous to drag another personinto the mess. Avery’s thoughts turned to Jake Drendle, a nineteen-year-old who lived ten miles from the ranch. He wanted a full-time job for the summer and part-time when he started at the local junior college in the fall. Odd that he’d mistreat horses when he’d grown up with them. He had a quirky personality and kept to himself. She’d mention Jake to Marc just in case. What was wrong with her for suspecting a kid?
Her phone pinged with a text from Marc.
I’ve put off contacting you. Roden was shot at my mother’s house—a shooter aimed at her. Shooter unknown. I’m with Roden’s wife and daughters at the hospital. He’s in recovery after a surgeon removed a bullet. Prognosis is good. Under no circumstances drive your car. I’ll send an agent to check for a tracking device.
I’m so sorry. What hospital? I’ll take a taxi.
Stay in your room. Don’t leave the hotel.
Your mother’s okay?
She’ll be fine. No stitches.
I’m sorry to drag you into this, placing you, your mother, and Roden in danger.
This is my job—not yours.
Who had them all under a microscope?
36
FROM AVERY’S THIRD-FLOOR HOTEL ROOM,she watched a man inspect her battered car. He lay on his back and felt under the vehicle, then every inch of the exterior. She snapped a few pics in case he wasn’t FBI. About twenty minutes later, he walked across the parking lot, but she didn’t see if he carried anything or what he drove.
Marc texted that he was on his way to the hotel to see her.
Shouldn’t you be resting?
I’m good. My mother is with me. Hope that’s okay. We have only one vehicle here.
She’s driving?
No.
Of the three injured people, Marc must have been the only one remotely able to follow the ambulance with Roden to the hospital, and he had no business being behind the wheel either time.
In the hotel lobby, Avery met Marc and an olive-skinned,dark-haired woman who must be Mrs. Wilkins. She had the same high cheekbones and hair color as Marc. A bandage covered a good portion of her right cheek. She and Marc were quite a pair with their bandages protecting injuries. For that matter, the three of them were a wounded trio.
Marc greeted Avery. “I can’t believe I brought my mother to an FBI meeting.”
The woman immediately stuck out her hand to Avery. “I’m Donita Wilkins, and I won’t tell anyone I was here if you don’t.”
“Deal.” Avery grasped her hand firmly. She immediately liked the woman. “Avery Elliott. I’m so sorry for what happened to you and Agent Clement.”
“Thank you.” She gave a timid smile. “I’ve heard good things about you. You and my son need to talk, and I thought I’d have a sandwich privately.”
Avery checked the dining area and announced the room had privacy. Once seated, Mrs. Wilkins in a corner booth and Avery and Marc on the opposite side of the room, she studied his battle-worn face.
“I know why you look horrible, but what about your mother? Then I want to hear about Roden.”
Marc shared with her about the shooting, obviously the basics from the way he sped over it. “I followed the ambulance to the hospital and waited with Mom and Roden’s family until the doctor came out of surgery.”
