He waited until she turned the corner, most likely on her way back to the motel, but even that seemed doubtful now. He wheeled onto the library’s side street and scrambled out of the truck. He poked his head around the edge of the building to make sure Jane wasn’t making a repeat appearance, and then strode to the entrance.
He eyed the three computers available for public use. A senior citizen was parked at one, playing a game of solitaire. The other two monitors glared at him.
She had to have been here using the computers. What else? She didn’t walk out with any books under her arm. Standing between the two machines, he tapped the keyboards—one with each hand.
Password screens popped up, and the old man seated at the other computer pointed to a slip of paper attached to the top of the monitor, his crooked finger waving in the air. “Passwords are right there.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rob pulled one keyboard toward him and entered the password. The monitor woke up and displayed a desktop with several available applications.
Rob ran the mouse across the application icons, hovering over a web browser. “Did you see a woman using one of these computers while you were here? She just left.”
The man removed his glasses, and his faded blue eyes assessed Rob from head to toe. He leaned forward and cupped his mouth with his hand. “Official business?”
“Yes, yes, it is. Official business.” Rob cleared his throat.
“She was here.” The old man raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Pretty little thing with hair the color of caramel candy.”
Rob’s hand jerked. He supposed Jane did have hair the color of caramel. “That’s her. Which computer was she using and...uh, did you notice what she was doing?”
“She was using the one on the end, but I could still smell her.” The man’s prominent nose twitched with the memory.
Rob raised one eyebrow. “Her smell?”
“Lemons—fresh and tart—just like my Lois.” The man closed his eyes, lost in the memory of his Lois.
Rob coughed as he sidled in front of the computer Jane had been using. “Did you notice what she was doing?”
The man opened one eye. “Surfing the internet. Why don’t you ask Julie, if this is official business? She can log you in to the young woman’s session.”
“I was just going to do that.” Rob squared his shoulders and marched to the reference desk. The old guy obviously knew more about how the public computers worked than he did.
Julie looked up at his approach. “Hi, Rob. Do you need something?”
“A woman was in here using one of the computers, and I’d like to find out what she looked up.”
“I can do that.” Julie came from behind the reference desk and patted his arm. “All work and no play.”
Rob ducked his head. Julie had a daughter somewhere in Phoenix she wanted him to meet, but he hated setups and he hated blind dates. “We’re always busy.”
Julie dropped her voice to a whisper. “Is this woman a drug dealer? A mule?”
“Nothing that serious.” He put his finger to his lips and jerked his thumb at the man still playing solitaire.
Julie laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Beating your own records, Frank?”
“I’m workin’ on it, Julie.”
Julie perched on the chair in front of the computer Jane had vacated recently and tapped on the keyboard. She logged out and then logged back in. A few clicks later and she pushed back from the table.
“There you go. We’re back in her session. You can look at her browsing history to see what she’s been up to.” Julie traced the tip of her finger across the seam of her closed mouth. “And I won’t tell a soul.”
“Thanks, Julie.”
“Anytime you get a break, I’ll give you my daughter’s cell phone number.”
“I’ll remember that.” Julie’s poor daughter would probably be mortified to discover her mother was playing matchmaker for her.
Rob scooted closer to the monitor and brought up the history of Jane’s browsing session.
As he scrolled through the searches on drugs and drug cartels, his heart began to pound in his chest. When he got to the bottom and read the first search she’d entered, the blood pounded in his temples.
Jane had been searching for information on El Gringo Viejo—one of the most notorious drug suppliers in Mexico.
Chapter Six
The knock on the motel door made her jump. Wiping her sweaty palms on her pants, she stalked toward the door and leaned forward to peek through the peephole.
Rob took a step back so she could see his whole body. Several bags hung at his sides.
She puffed a breath from her lips, closed the knife and shoved it into her front pocket. She’d had a scare on the street earlier when a stranger wearing a cap had stared at her, and then flashed her a peace sign. She’d been afraid he’d followed her here.
She swung the door open and took a step back. “I thought maybe you weren’t coming back to get me.”
His eyebrows collided over his nose as he lifted his shoulders. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know.” She stood to the side and gestured him into the room. “Out of sight, out of mind.”
“You may have been out of sight but never out of my mind.” He held up the bags, stuffed with clothing, swinging them from his fingers. “I even got you some stuff to wear.”
She pressed a hand against her warm cheek. What did he mean she was never out of his mind? And the clothes? She shouldn’t get too dependent on Rob, but what choice did she have? He was it—the extent of her relationships. She could probably add Rosie, Anna and the cooks and busboys at Rosita’s to her list. And El Gringo Viejo.
Why did a drug dealer want to see her
