Libby held the phone close to her face and tapped the display, reading aloud as she typed. “‘Got the phone. Nothing on it. Can’t help you. Can’t remember.’”
Rob held his breath as he watched the phone glowing in Libby’s hands. When it dinged, he practically jumped out of his seat. “Response?”
“‘Okay.’” She snorted. “Just ‘okay.’ Definitely not Troy Paulsen. I don’t think the guy ever gave a one-word response in his life.”
“At least your message is out there. They can believe it or not.” He cocked his head. “Hear that?”
“Sirens. The first responders are here. What are we going to tell them?” She wedged her phone in the cup holder again.
“That we saw the wreck, determined the driver was dead and called 911.” Rob shoved his weapon into its holster. “We don’t know him, don’t recognize him, didn’t see anyone around.”
“What about Zeke? Should we tell them Zeke is the one who spotted the wreck and another car in the vicinity?”
“Not without letting Zeke know first.” Rob drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “In fact, I want to go back to Luna and Zeke’s place and question him...and warn him.”
“Warn him?” The lights from the emergency vehicles cast a red-and-blue halo around Libby’s hair, making it look like fire.
“If the people who killed Troy saw Zeke’s bike, noticed anything about him, he could be in trouble. He should at least know what he stumbled on. Luna mentioned she didn’t much like the new residents of the camp. Maybe this is their opportunity to move on.”
Libby clasped her hands. “I didn’t even think about it. Luna and Zeke could be in danger.”
“I suppose they don’t have a phone, do they?”
“Nope.”
“Then we’ll have to drive out there when we’re done with this.” He squeezed her neck, his fingers pressing into her soft skin. “Are you up for that?”
“Of course. I don’t want to see them get hurt. Those other bikers there might not provide any protection if they think the cartel will come after them, or if the cartel pays them off.” She grabbed the handle of the truck when the first highway patrol pulled up. “The two dudes who came out to meet us didn’t exactly look like Boy Scouts, did they?”
“Let me handle this.” He caught a strand of her hair. “I’ll tell them you didn’t see anything, never left the truck. Okay?”
“Do you think they’ll want to question me?”
Leaning forward in his seat, he pulled his ID and badge from his pocket. “Not when I show them this. As soon as I make it clear we don’t know anything, they’ll let us go. Then we can continue on to Zeke’s place. The sooner we raise the alarm with him, the better.”
She nodded and released the handle with a snap.
Shading his eyes, Rob marched up to the first patrolman and explained the situation. He ended by crossing his arms and saying, “Looks like the guy was shot, close range.”
Another patrolman called from the wreck, holding up a bag. “Drugs.”
Rob swore under his breath. EGV’s people must keep a supply on hand to implicate unsuspecting and innocent people...and dead people.
The patrolman in front of him cracked a smile. “Looks like you boys might be getting this case anyway.”
“Maybe so.” Rob jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Can we be on our way now? You have my card if you need anything else, and like you said, we might be picking this up anyway.”
“Yeah, sure.” The patrolman stuck Rob’s card in his front pocket and pivoted back to the scene.
Rob strode back to the truck and climbed into the cab. “That was easy.”
“Professional courtesy?”
“Something like that.” He cranked on the ignition. “Also, they found drugs in the trunk.”
Libby covered her mouth. “Just like me. They want to make sure to blame the victim, don’t they?”
“Blame the victim, muddy the waters, divert suspicion from the real motive. I hope Highway Patrol does throw the case to us. Then I can set things right for Troy. He deserves that.”
“Rob?” Libby was turned around in her seat.
“What is it?” He shifted his gaze to his rearview mirror as they made a dip in the road.
“I saw some lights behind us. C-could that be the highway patrol following us?”
“No way.” He squinted into the mirror and caught a flash of something coming over the rise. His foot came down hard on the gas pedal, and his V-8 roared.
Libby braced a hand against the door. “What is it? Is there someone behind us?”
“Someone who just cut their lights.”
She whipped around in her seat again. “Why would someone drive without lights in the middle of the desert? I don’t care how deserted it is, nobody would do that.”
“Unless they didn’t want to be detected.”
“Rob, are you saying we’re being followed? How? Why would they think we’re out on this stretch of highway? They don’t know anything about that campsite, or they would’ve paid it a visit by now to collect my phone.”
Gripping the wheel, Rob tipped his head back and swore. “They have Troy’s phone.”
“So what? I didn’t tell Troy where the phone was. They wouldn’t be able to locate that site from the description I texted Troy. They may not even have the same phone with that text on it.”
Rob turned off his own lights, and the darkness engulfed them. “Remember how Troy found us in Tucson after we dropped off Teresa?”
“He put a GPS tracker on your truck.” Libby rubbed her arms. “What does that mean? How’d they get that GPS?”
“Libby, it’s on his phone. They took Troy’s phone after they killed him and found the tracking program.” He pounded the steering wheel. “As soon as I learned Troy had a GPS on my truck, I should’ve demanded he remove it.”
“C-can you find it now? Remove it now?”
“With that bearing down on us? I’m not going to take that chance with you in the truck.”
She scooted forward in her seat. “We just left a gaggle of emergency vehicles back there. Can we turn
