He opened his email and started a new message to SACCromwell, noting the time Zimmerman had shown up. He didn’t sendthe email to Hank but instead set it on the desktop and left themessage open, so he could insert the exact time the man left.
Zimmerman had entered the hospital room earlier thatmorning, almost six hours ago now. Adrian kept watching until hewalked out of the room and then noted the time.
He’d stayed for seven minutes and then left. “Whatdid they talk about that whole time?”
“Huh?”
Adrian shook his head. “Nothing. Just thinkingaloud.”
“My wife does that.” The man huffed.
He ignored the man and studied the footage up untilthe time the boy went into a coma. No one went in or out of theroom except authorized personnel. Which meant the likely scenariowas that the kid’s Leukemia had done that damage. He wasdeteriorating, that was all.
Adrian sent up a prayer for the kid. What else couldhe do? Nothing, except ask the One in control to give mercy in thissituation.
Adrian wasn’t all that good at mercy. Mostly hefigured his role in life was to expect the best out of otherpeople. After all, that was how he treated himself. If they didn’tdeliver, he simply readjusted his expectations so that the nexttime he knew what they could bring to the table.
He had yet to figure out Megan. One second she seemedeminently capable, and the next it was like she’d been paralyzed.Trauma, most likely. PTSD, probably. Like at Zimmerman’s house whenshe’d avoided confronting those two men.
Then other times she seemed like she was dealingwell, living her life. But maybe she’d never get over it. And maybeshe never should. Life went on. She had however many daysGod gave her stretched out in front of her to enjoy. She didn’tneed to be mired in the past. But honoring the memory of a good manwho’d been killed by bad people couldn’t be a bad thing—so long asit didn’t stop her from living.
His phone rang.
Adrian stood and said, “Thank you for your time.”
The security guard nodded. “Sure thing, man.”
He wandered out into the hall and answered his call.The ID said Double Down so it wasn’t about Zimmerman beinghere. He hadn’t even sent the email to Hank yet. He wanted to waitand see what Megan got from the mother.
“Walker.”
“It’s Steve.”
“Hey.” Steve Preston was Megan’s boss, the owner/CEOof Double Down. And the only other time he’d called Adrian was theday the RV blew up in Colorado and two of their team members haddied. Megan had been injured. Mint had been in a gunfight. Adrianhad been the only one to answer his phone in the aftermath. “What’sup?”
“Where’s Megan?”
“Interviewing the kid’s mom.”
Steve sighed. “We know whyhe chose this child in particular. You need to find her, now.”
Adrian started walking. “What’s the connection?”
“The father. He’s connected to El Cuervo, and not in any way that’s good forMegan. We looked into him as much as we could in the short timeframe, and we’ll have more soon, but it’s likely he was inVenezuela during the time Megan and her partner were taken. If heshows up, and she pegs him as being there two years ago—whether hewas present when Will was killed or not—she’s going to freakout.”
Adrian crossed the threshold to the waiting area andsaw Megan in quiet conversation with a young Hispanic woman. InMegan’s hand was a flash drive. “I’ll call you back. I think shegot something from the mom.”
Adrian hung up before Steve could reply. Then helooked both ways down the hall and at everyone in the room. Hedidn’t see any Hispanic men. Maybe the wife didn’t have contactwith him. But it was in no way a coincidence that Zimmerman, whowas himself connected with ElCuervo, had come to the son of an associate of the sameman.
Trying to pull Megan into something that would throwher so deep into the past that she’d be unable to function? Adriandidn’t like this, no matter what it was.
And how on earth did this have anything to do withtheir finding the blackmailer?
Megan glanced over. He tipped his head to the side,and she held up a finger. She spoke softly to the young woman, andthen shook her head. Would she be this way with the woman if shealready knew the child’s father was part of the same Venezuelanorganization that had almost destroyed her life?
She came over to him.
“Let’s walk. I think we’re done here.”
She shot him a glance. “If you say so.”
He headed for the elevator with her beside him.“Zimmerman was in the room for seven minutes.”
“He gave the boy this flash drive.”
Adrian wanted to reach for it, instinct probably. Hesafeguarded evidence. It was his job. But he fisted his handinstead, and she slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. He said,“What do you think is on it?”
“I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and shook herhead. “A manifesto? A confession?”
He knew she wanted it to be more than that. Shewanted an explanation as to Zimmerman’s involvement in what hadbeen done to her. Maybe something about the blackmailer as well.Adrian wanted to ask her what had happened, but it was too earlyfor that. He also wanted to hug her, and promise she would alwaysbe safe. Likely she wouldn’t want that, either. Would she ever?
“Soon as we get to a computer we can find out,” shesaid. “Then maybe we’ll know where he’s going next.”
“You think this is a cry for help, and he wants us tocatch him?”
“Maybe.” Adrian stepped out of the elevator first,into the lobby.
“Okay, tell me why you’re in protective detailmode.”
He glanced back, one arm out so he could put his handon the small of her back. She lifted an eyebrow and stopped in themiddle of the lobby. “Explain.”
“I will,” he said. “Once we’re back in the car.”
“Adrian.”
A couple of people brushed past them, forcing him totake a step back to give them room. How rude. Adrian pressed hislips together, and when the crowd had thinned he moved closer toMegan. “We need to get that flash drive to a computer. And we needto get you somewhere you’re not exposed.”
She started walking. “There’s
