Hannah's Truth (Cypress Security Book 4), page 15
She gasped. “You’re jumping the gun here, Bart. Do this the wrong way and we might lose the whole war.”
“Look,” he leaned close. “They’ve been using my place as a hub. They killed my friend. I’m putting an end to it today.”
“With my help. You aren’t the only one they’ve hurt.”
He willed himself to settle down as he stroked the length of her arm. “I know you’re invested. Let me wrap this up for you. Call it a wedding gift.”
She snorted.
“Fine. Don’t call it anything. Just stay here and handle all of this.” He tipped his head toward the crowded diner.
“If you tell me your plan.”
“I’m running out of time, Hannah.”
“Then talk fast.”
“Ross and I will tail them and when we find them making a connection, the sheriff can ride in and make the arrest.”
Without another word, he pulled her close, pressed a hard, sweet kiss to her lips, and walked away.
Chapter 14
Fuming at his ill-timed high-handedness, Hannah knew any further argument was pointless. It was time for action. She would not let anyone relegate her to the sidelines on this case.
She scooted through the crowd with a friendly smile plastered across her face, until she reached Maria at the cake table. “Bart’s dealing with a business problem, but it shouldn’t take long.”
“Uh-huh. Why are you still here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Hannah studied the older woman. “Can you cover for both of us for a little while?”
“Of course.” Maria gave a resigned sigh. “Everyone is having fun.”
“Good. Got a pen?”
“Always.” Maria handed it over.
Hannah took the older woman’s hand and wrote her cell phone on her palm. “Call me if anyone leaves unexpectedly.”
“Okay. Are you going to tell me why?”
“It’s just business,” Hannah said.
“Right,” Maria muttered something in Spanish that sounded like a prayer to Hannah’s ears. “If that business has anything to do with Tim’s murderer, go get him. And bring Bart back in one piece.”
“It’s a deal.”
Hannah left through the back door of the kitchen, suppressing a shiver as she passed the dumpster where Tim’s body had been found. This wasn’t the time to be squeamish or sentimental. The first had never been a problem until the pregnancy test turned positive and Bart was packing enough of the second alongside his revengeful intent.
Circling the building, she darted up the stairs to the apartment for the keys to the Camaro. With so many cars surrounding the truck stop, she had plenty of cover getting across to the mechanic’s shop where Bart kept it parked.
Not wanting to explain taking the Camaro for a drive, she was grateful the mechanic was up at the diner with everyone else for the party. Except for the guests of honor, she thought as the suspected mobile meth lab pulled away from the gas pump with Bart’s big truck a few seconds behind it.
“Please do something stupid,” Hannah murmured to the departing cartel vehicle.
She adjusted the heavy seat for her shorter legs and started the engine. It sputtered and died, and she realized she’d forgotten to pump the gas pedal. The engine caught with a roar on her second attempt and she briefly reconsidered taking the rental car. But if her darkest suspicions were correct, that car was already on the DEA’s radar and she refused to let anyone else get credit for this takedown.
Hanging back a bit, she watched the meth truck take the on-ramp to I-95 North, followed closely by the second vehicle, and then Bart. She shifted into first gear and eased forward to follow, but had to wait as a sheriff’s car whizzed by.
Bart must have called Wallace's department for backup and the realization made her feel marginally better. Logic and proper procedure would give them the best shot at getting Gonzales behind bars and keeping him there. She joined the unofficial caravan, her eyes trained on the mobile meth lab, even as she watched for the unmarked sedans used by the local DEA.
Her phone rang and she picked it up as she merged with the interstate traffic. “Thalberg.”
“You’re a Bartholomew,” the caller corrected.
“What is it, Maria?”
“Deputy Wallace just made a hasty exit.”
“Thanks for the head’s up.” Even though it was a minute too late.
“It must be a call, he wouldn’t be a part of this mess with Tim,” she said.
The worry in the woman’s voice tugged at Hannah’s heart. “I’m sure you’re right. Bart must have called him for help.”
“Of course he did. I should have thought of that.”
“We’ll be back soon.” Hannah disconnected the call and urged the Camaro faster down the road. She didn’t want to miss any part of this.
Gonzales would pay for murdering Krystal. Whether he did it himself or hired out the messy work, he would pay for Tim and Mary Lou.
She was doing eighty and the engine seemed eager for more, when she saw the mobile meth lab cut across traffic to take the next exit. With the lack of space and the vehicles between her and the exit ramp, she couldn’t follow.
It was hard to tell if the mobile lab driver realized he was being followed or if bad driving was just his preferred way to get from stop to stop on the route. Regardless, the second vehicle was still on the interstate. There was nothing for it but to brave it out.
Hannah fell back another car length, torn between following the second car or going after the lab. At the last minute, she took the next exit and doubled back. It was purely instinct and entirely possible she’d lose them completely if she was wrong.
Divide and conquer was a solid tactic in interrogation, surely it could be effective in breaking open the players in this supply chain.
Nothing else had worked, though she had her suspicions about that too.
She shifted to neutral and coasted around the gentle curve of the off-ramp to the county road. It was a couple of miles more than she’d anticipated, but she soon found the road that led back toward the intersection where the meth lab truck had exited.
At a four-way stop, she checked the clock on the phone first, then entered the address she’d found in Tim’s notebook. It had been marked as a farmer’s market, but based on the rest of his code, she suspected it was a primary link in the supply chain.
She drove on, a trickle of unease prickling across her skin. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt guilt since deciphering Tim’s notes, but it was too late to change anything.
Apologizing to Bart would be at the top of her list as soon as they had this mobile meth lab system off the road permanently.
She kept the Camaro at the forty-five mile per hour limit on the two-lane road and drove right by the address Tim had specified. At first glance it appeared to be an abandoned gas station with a ragged-looking framed pavilion off to the side.
But she caught the flash of vehicles behind the building in her rearview mirror. According to Deputy Wallace, Tim’s car had been found further down this road, closer to Bart’s truck stop.
She wished now they’d made time to visit that crime scene. Bart knew the area well, but it would have given her a better grasp on the sparse network of paved and gravel roads available for a situation like this.
Driving on without sighting the mobile lab, Bart, or even a sheriff’s patrol car, she worried her instincts were as off as the rest of her had been these past couple of weeks.
Rounding the next curve, her worries were put to rest as a truck taking its half out of the middle of the two-lane road forced her to the rough shoulder.
She caught a glimpse of the driver and couldn’t believe her good fortune. Gonzales himself was behind the wheel. Cleaning up his own mess, or assuring his valuable product arrived on time, it didn’t matter to her. She wouldn’t let the top dog slip through her grasp.
Bart was mere seconds behind the truck and too absorbed in the chase to spot the Camaro.
Deputy Wallace blew past her next. She waited a beat for Ross to come blazing by, but the road was empty.
Gonzales must be leading them into a trap or at least closer to help. There was no way she could get ahead of them. No easy way she knew to circle around and head them off.
She pulled a U-turn, gaining a deeper appreciation for power steering. Bart had made driving this tank of a muscle car look easy, but she thought the car might prove her inferiority before the day was out.
When she had the car pointed in the right direction, she didn’t rush to catch up. Hanging back would be her only chance to catch the Gonzales crew unaware.
A sudden burst of automatic gunfire aimed at Bart’s truck and the deputy’s car confirmed her suspicions about the not-so-abandoned building she’d passed.
She flipped the safety off of her personal .38 revolver. Rolling down the window, she hoped what she was about to do would put a quick end to this.
Driving on, she saw the truck in the lead, Bart and Wallace following, with three more tricked out sports cars trying to pick them off on the way back to the interstate.
She swore. A chase among civilian vehicles was never ideal because the criminals didn’t care who they hurt. There was no way to cut them off before they reached the on-ramp.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
They were nearly on top of a four-way stop when another car came flying through the intersection forcing Gonzales to slow down and jerk the wheel right to avoid the collision.
She pegged the dark sedan with tinted windows as a government vehicle as it narrowly avoided a gruesome collision. Were they DEA or another agency working a different angle on the Mexican cartel?
All of the vehicles tailing the truck had to compensate for the slowdown and the unexpected turn. The confusion gave her a clear shot at one of the cartel’s chase cars. It took two attempts, but she put a bullet through the left rear tire and tipped the odds back in their favor.
Seeing movement behind her, she recognized the government car joining the chase and said a prayer of thanks. She wasn’t nearly as grateful when a bullet shattered the back window a moment later.
They thought she was one of the bad guys. Fan-damn-tastic. “Check a plate,” she shouted, knowing they couldn’t hear her. She wasn’t even sure Bart had bothered to put real plates on the Camaro yet.
As much as she loved the power of the classic car, she missed the technology of her own. Even the rental had a built in GPS tool. Right now she wanted to know where she was in relation to the major thoroughfares.
It wasn’t an option. The car needed all of her strength—with both hands—to keep it in the hunt.
Another bullet exploded into the front seat, just a few inches from her shoulder. For a moment she wished the cartel would open fire on her. It might clue in the team behind her that she was on their side.
As if prompted by her thoughts, she saw the dark muzzle of a weapon sticking out of the side window on the orange car in front of her.
She yanked the wheel to the side and made the shooter miss. Shifting, she stomped the accelerator and put the solid, classic steel of the Camaro to the lightweight fiberglass of the smaller street-rod.
Surprised, the other driver only helped her cause when he tried to bump her. She tagged his quarter panel and sent him spiraling into the other cartel driver.
Brakes squealed and tires smoked on the summer-hot asphalt of the state road. The neon blue car crashed into a guard rail, tangled with the orange car. She skidded to a stop to pin them in, just to be sure they couldn’t get away. Grabbing her gun and shield, she leaped from the car to get control of the occupants.
The dark sedan slowed down, pulling to a stop behind the Camaro.
“Christ, Thalberg! What the hell are you doing?”
Hannah recognized Suter’s voice, but she didn’t dare take her eyes from Gonzales’s goons. “You shot at me.”
“We thought you were one of them.”
The argument would wait, but their rash actions would definitely be in the report she sent to her boss. “The mobile meth lab is on the move.”
“We know.”
She barked orders to the people in the car. Suter stepped up beside her, his weapon drawn. Slowly the cartel crew tossed their guns through the broken car windows to the pavement.
“How did you know where to find us?”
“We picked up a tip—” The rest of Suter’s reply was cut off by the wail of sirens bearing approaching. “What do you know, here comes the backup.”
Hannah wasn’t ready to relax. Not until the gang bangers were in custody. She knew Suter and Kellerman had the authority to haul in the crew, but with the wiretap order and Suter claiming they’d been tipped off, she wanted unbiased, local support. The more witnesses to this arrest the better for Bart.
Kellerman joined them as an ambulance and another sheriff’s car pulled to a stop. A third vehicle continued on down the road. “We have to go,” he told Suter. “They stopped the truck we’ve been tracking.”
“How far away?”
“The next I-95 on-ramp. Sounds like a messy spill too.”
Suter and Kellerman helped her explain the situation and potential charges against the cartel crew to the deputy before driving off to check on the mobile lab. She had to believe Bart and Deputy Wallace were safely rounding up Gonzales at that location, but that didn’t mean she intended to head back to the truck stop and wait for his return.
Once all four perps were in custody, one by way of the ambulance, she returned to the battered Camaro.
“I shouldn’t let you drive that thing,” the responding deputy said.
“It’s got to get back to the shop somehow.” Whether he bought the bluff or he realized arguing was a lost cause, he gave her the addresses for the hospital and the county jail and let her leave.
The damaged Camaro made for a noisy drive but she was getting used to it as she arrived at the scene. The mobile meth lab looked pitiful, jackknifed in the road and blocking both lanes. Bart’s truck didn’t look any worse for the chase, and she caught a glimpse of Ross’s car on the other side.
A team in HAZMAT gear wandered through the wreck, dealing with the chemicals, but Hannah sought out Gonzales.
She told herself she only wanted to look in his eyes, to let him see her determination to take him down but Bart found her first.
“Are you okay? It looks like you drove through a mine field.”
“It wasn’t that bad, but I’m sorry about the damage.” She sincerely regretted wrecking the project he’d planned for Kyle. “I’ll replace it if necessary.”
“Don’t worry about it. Gonzales is with Suter and Kellerman,” Bart said, guiding her closer to his truck and away from the DEA vehicle.
“He’s alive?”
“Barely. There was a scuffle when your pals got here.”
“How alive is barely?”
Bart shrugged, but she stared him down. “He tried to take a gun off Kellerman. He didn’t succeed.”
“Inexperienced idiot. I hope Suter writes him up for it.” Hannah glared across the road toward the agents and the prone Gonzales at their feet. “If he’d escaped or taken out someone else—”
“It’s fine now,” Bart assured her. “His nose won’t look right without surgery and the safe bet says at least two ribs are broken,” Bart added. “Maybe a dislocated shoulder.”
She studied him. “You helped subdue him.”
“It’s possible. Ross would likely say I helped save him.”
“Really?” She arched her brows. “I have a few professional questions of my own.”
“You should stay here. With me.”
She smiled at his concern. “I’ll just be a minute. If he gets out of line, you can break another couple of ribs.”
“Count on it.”
She stalked across the street to let Gonzales know he wouldn’t get away with killing Krystal and her baby.
Chapter 15
Bart watched her kneel next to Gonzales. He knew just what she was telling the bastard.
“She’s something else,” Ross said to Bart, putting his cell phone back in his pocket. “Allie says all is well at the party, but Maria would like you both back ASAP.”
“She should just cut the damn cake and be done with it,” Bart grumbled. “Any word from Jersey?”
“Every report from the team on Beth and Kyle says they’re fine.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“You and Hannah work well together,” Ross said.
Bart shuffled his feet. “I think so. Not sure what she thinks.” He pulled Ross a few more paces away from the chaos of the hazardous materials team, first responders, and local law enforcement. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Another one? This should count for something.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the mess.
“That was a great move, pinching him between us. But I was thinking you might stick around for a day or two.”
“Planning on getting married for real?”
Bart shrugged. If he could convince Hannah to stay, that would be ideal. Hell, keeping her around would be more than he’d known to dream about. More than he thought he wanted. Definitely more than he deserved. “Don’t know about that, but it’s worth a shot.”
“All right,” Ross said slowly. “Don’t make me pull teeth here. What are you really asking about?”
“My gut says this isn’t over. The cartel wouldn’t bother bugging my apartment.”
“Hell, man. I could have sent you equipment to disable those.”
“Who says I needed it?”
“Good to know.” Ross offered a hand shake and then pulled him close to slap him on the shoulder. “Do you have a line on the person on the other end?”
“Not yet.” His gaze drifted to the other side of the highway.
“But you have your suspicions.”
Bart nodded, keeping an eye on Suter and Kellerman as they talked with Hannah about the take down. He should tell Ross about Tim’s notebook and the real cause of his concern, but there was no telling who might interrupt them.
