Page 81 of Concrete Evidence
“No.” Unless incriminating evidence caused him to take her or Craig into custody. “There’s nothing more we can do here. We’ll talk about our next steps on the drive back.”
Grief-stricken blue eyes met him. Wordlessly, she took the concrete path to his truck. Marc watched her until she was beyond earshot. He contacted the sheriff’s office handling protection at the ranch and requested Craig Holcombe be held for questioning.
At the truck, Avery slid into the passenger seat. Still, she said nothing. Her lips quivered against a pale face.
Once on the road, he broached the problem. “I wish I could take away those findings.”
“Me too.” She failed to look at him.
“What are you thinking?”
“You called the ranch and requested Craig stay put?”
“Yes. I’ll talk to him there.”
“I assume you need to question me.”
“I’ve interviewed both of you, but I will need to do so again. You have the right to an attorney.” He palmed the steering wheel. “I sounded cold when I’d do anything to spare you this heartache.”
“Marc, the faulty dam is reality. I have nothing to hide. Neither do I want an attorney, but Granddad would drag me through manurefor not taking advantage of my rights.” She swiped beneath an eye. “Have I become the enemy? Your mother and Tessa won’t want to stay at the ranch when they hear the inspector’s report.”
“You three are still victims.”
“Am I, Marc? Or am I a fool?”
Marc reached across the seat and grasped her hand. What could he say? His logic guided him toward FBI protocol, but his heart softened for her. “I understand you believe the senator is innocent of wrongdoing, and I admit it doesn’t fit his stellar reputation. That leaves someone at the helm who is desperate and willing to do whatever it takes for—”
“What is so valuable? I want your professional evaluation, then I’ll share mine.”
Marc chose honesty with a bent toward his feelings for her. “I see more pros for your grandfather’s innocence than cons. For every accusation shoved his way, I see evidence of blackmail.”
“But Craig? No one could be more loyal to Granddad.” She stared out the side window. “Why didn’t I see this coming? Has the good life tainted my mind?”
“No. You were just blindsided.”
“No excuse to jeopardize people’s lives and property.” She nodded at the radio. “The weather. What are the updates?”
The strong woman had slipped into an emotional overload. Marc understood, although her mental state solved nothing. He pressed on the radio.
“The National Weather Service has issued a mandatory evacuation for Galveston and the surrounding area. Hurricane Braxton, now a category5 storm, will make landfall on Thursday at 11a.m. The time to leave is coming to an end. For those who haven’t chosen to leave, you must shelter in place. The causeway will close at 7p.m. tonight.”
A live audio report from Galveston showed bumper-to-bumpertraffic over the I-45 causeway bridge. “Vehicles attempting to get out of the hurricane’s path are creating long lines of traffic and short tempers.”
Avery checked her phone, as though she expected a better report. “Thunderstorms and high winds will spark tornadoes. But my fear is Braxton will stall, dumping heavy rainfall.” She laid her phone in the console. “I’m repeating what we already know.”
“Processing information provides an opportunity to look at the situation from different angles.”
“Sounds like a quote from the FBI handbook.”
He chuckled. “You might be right.”
The station switched to a local news update that added another level of anxiety to the situation. Local authorities warned that with the predicted rainfall from the hurricane combined with the rapid filling of the reservoir due to incessant rains upstream, the Lago de Cobre Dam might not handle the stress. “Earlier the Army Corps of Engineers tested the dam, and the Texas EAP advised those in the low-lying areas below the dam to evacuate. Quinn ElliottSr., owner of Elliott Commercial Construction, completed the dam approximately six months ago. Elliott was not available for comment.”
Unlike residents near the Gulf, these people weren’t accustomed to enacting a disaster plan. Panic... Marc despised what he had seen from otherwise law-abiding citizens during emergencies.
Avery stared at him. “This isn’t about me. Never has been. But I’m saying it. Can this situation get any worse?” She turned to face him. “No need to answer. My mind’s cluttered right now, but once I think through what we’ve learned, I’ll be able to speak more clearly to it.”
At the turnoff onto the ranch property, Marc’s cell phone alerted him to a call from Burleson County’s sheriff. He pressed the Bluetooth to respond.
