Cheating Justice (The Justice Team) (18 page)

They ate in silence, then Caroline sat back and eyed Brice. “Eight o’clock. Ready to make that call?”

Brice googled the number, dialed and punched the speaker button. A receptionist answered and transferred Brice, not once but twice. He was put on hold. Finally, after explaining who he was and that he was trying to reach George Atkinson, he landed the man’s voice mail.

Caroline sat next to Mitch on the bench seat, her left leg bouncing and whipping her nervous energy around like a downed power line. Unable to stand it, Mitch put a hand on her leg to stop its movement as Brice left a short message. Nothing too detailed, but Brice mentioned Will, which should snag the man’s attention.

Then they waited.

And waited.

Caroline spent her time pacing outside, keeping the camper door open so she could hear the phone ring. Brice played a zombie game on his phone. Mitch kicked back, closed his eyes, and napped.

Bbrrring
. The sound startled him out of a nightmare about Tommy and guns and dead bodies lining a sidewalk.

“It’s him,” Brice announced. Mitch and Caroline filed inside to their places at the table and Brice hit the call button. “Hello?”

A man’s deep voice came from the speaker. “This is U.S. Attorney Atkinson. To whom am I speaking?”

“You can call me Hawkeye. Like I said in my message, I run the First Amendment Patriot blog where I recently exposed a government cover-up of the death of FBI Agent Thomas Nusco. Have you read it?”

The guy chuckled. “Yes, Mr. Hawkeye. I’ve read your accusations. Quite entertaining. I’m sure your conspiracy fans enjoy the propaganda.”

A muscle in Brice’s jaw jumped. Mitch was right there with him in the annoyed department. “Yeah, well, I’m doing a follow-up post,” Brice said. “I’ve uncovered evidence that members of an interagency taskforce were told to look the other way, and gun shop owners were bullied into keeping their mouths shut regarding hundreds, if not thousands of weapons allowed to walk into the hands of criminals. One of my sources claims your brother was involved. Care to comment?”

There was a slight pause, not long enough for Mitch to tell whether the guy was forming a lie or not. “My brother is an ATF undercover operative, Mr. Hawkeye, and I’m the New Mexico U.S. Attorney. Yes, I have knowledge of the various operations that ATF, DEA, ICE, and Homeland have in motion in my state, but I don’t hold my brother’s hand while he’s working. I can, however, assure you that I know nothing about these accusations or this so-called evidence you have. I strongly suggest you use care when posting such allegations on your blog.”

“It’s a free country,” Brice said.

“It is that, but there are far more
real
patriots than false ones. You might step on toes with this type of nonsense.”

Was he insinuating First Amendment Patriot was a joke? Seemed that way to Mitch. Must have to Caroline as well because that leg started its rapid motion again,
up-down-up-down-up-down
.

Brice, however, grinned, rolling his eyes like he’d heard it all before. “Do you know anything about the straw buying, Mr. Atkinson? Anything about the claims your brother, Will, was blackmailing gun shop owners to keep quiet about the straw purchases or lose their licenses?”

“No, sir, I do not, and if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to.”

The line went dead.

Brice leaned forward and yelled at the phone. “It’s Hawkeye. Just Hawkeye, you douchebag.” He glanced up at Mitch and Caroline. “The guy has probably never read a Marvel Comic in his life.”

Hawkeye was a comic book superhero that had recently had a resurgence in popularity thanks to the Avenger movies. ”Apparently, not,” Mitch snorted.

Caroline looked like she wasn’t listening. She was off in Caroline’s World, making her lists and analyzing every word good ol’ George had uttered.

“Well?” Mitch said to her. “Is he lying? Trying to cover up for Will?”

Caroline shook her head. “Can’t be sure. He didn’t sound defensive so much as irritated. Like he’s not worried, because the blog, in his mind, isn’t credible. If the source isn’t credible, neither is the information.”

Brice pulled out his laptop. “I’m writing that follow-up post anyway. When we go back to town, I’ll upload it to my blog and once again list my email. My conspiracy fans may love the ‘propaganda’”—he made air quotes around the word—“but they’re incredibly connected. Someone knows something here in New Mexico, mark my words.”

Mitch touched Caroline’s hand, drawing her attention. “We should go back to Maria’s.”

“I think so too. She could be in danger.”

“She could be.” He slid out from the table and offered her a hand up. “She could also be holding out on us about her brother.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that.” Caroline took his hand and stood. “Let me get my briefcase.”

“Are you going to be Good Cop or Bad Cop this time?” he teased as they left the RV. Her ponytail swung from her confident walk to the truck.

She gave him a grin over her shoulder. “Maybe a little of both.”

Chapter Fourteen

In the blazing midday heat, Caroline plucked at the front of her blouse, pulling it from her sticky skin. Giving in to the heat, she’d ditched her suit jacket. Maintaining her FBI persona was crucial, but she’d rather not take a heat stroke during this freak October heat wave.

She climbed the brick steps to Maria’s house, noted the broken edge she’d spotted on their prior trip and sidestepped it. Better not to sprain an ankle or blow out her knee while fumbling in a case she had no business fumbling in.

At the top of the steps, she waited for Mitch and Brice to reach the landing, then nodded. “Mitch, don’t get crazy. Please. Let me handle this.”

He offered up one of those maddening grins of his and Caroline knew without a doubt reining this man in would be impossible. But really, didn’t the good girl in her, the obsessively controlled one who thrived on order and strategy, sort of love the uninhibited chaos Mitch created?

Unfortunately, yes.

She sighed and banged the cheap metal doorknocker. No answer. Caroline cocked her head and listened. Feet shuffling. Just inside the door. “Maria, this is Special Agent Foster. We have information about Jesse. Please open the door.”

Mitch waggled his eyebrows.
Chaos.

A second later the door swung open and the petite brunette stood there, one hand on her hip. She wore hospital scrubs adorned with pink pigs and a scowl mean enough to frighten a hardened gangbanger.

“Hello, Maria.”

“You people need to stop coming here.”

Not likely. At least not until they located Jesse. “Maria, we have information about Jesse. Information you’ll want to hear.”

Maria huffed as if Caroline had saddled two hundred pounds on her. “Fine. I’ll give you ten minutes. Come inside, though. I don’t want any trouble, and in this neighborhood, someone will recognize you as law enforcement.”

Caroline followed Maria into the house toward an overstuffed blue sofa that looked relatively new in comparison to the scarred floors. Behind her, Mitch and Brice entered, then closed and locked the door.

Maria didn’t invite them to sit. Caroline couldn’t blame her. Whatever Jesse was into, straw buying might have been the least of it, and his sister obviously didn’t want to suffer for his sins.

“What about Jesse?” Maria asked.

“Were you aware Jesse had a relationship with FBI Special Agent Tommy Nusco?”

Instantly, something in Maria’s cheek twitched. Whether the reaction was due to Tommy’s name or the fact that her brother had a relationship with law enforcement, Caroline couldn’t know.

Not yet.

A cat meowed from somewhere near the back of the house and Caroline was grateful for the distraction in the otherwise silent room. “Maria?”

“I don’t know what my brother does in his spare time.”

Interesting. And also not the question asked.

“Maria,” Mitch said, “we’re not screwing around. You need to be straight with us and you need to do it quick.”

The woman flinched and stepped back, literally, moving away from them. Terrific job alienating a potential witness. When Caroline got Mitch alone, she’d…she’d…she didn’t know what she’d do, but it would be damned ugly.

For now, she skinned him with a hard stare that would hopefully remind him he’d agreed to let her handle this. In typical Mitch and his balls-to-the-wall fashion, he stared right back.

Fine.

She’d play.

“Mitch,” she said, “why don’t you two head out to the truck and follow-up on that lead from this morning? Leave us girls alone. Hmm?”

Mitch rolled his eyes.

She offered up a syrupy sweet smile. “Please.”

He shifted his gaze to Maria, who retreated another step. Pretty soon she’d go right out the back door.

Finally, Sensible Mitch, the alter ego that showed up only in desperate situations, appeared and headed for the door. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

The two men left and Maria locked the door behind them. “Thank you. His name is Mitch? He makes me nervous.”

“He’s harmless.”

Unless you screw his brains out. Then, like the diehard shoppers at the mall, he’s a crack house you never want to leave.

Caroline cleared her throat. “Maria, it’s just us now. The guys are gone. I’m an FBI agent trying to figure out what happened to our friend, Tommy Nusco. He was a good man and he’s dead. Not only from a gun your brother purchased, but now we find out your brother was Tommy’s informant.”

Maria stayed silent, not an ounce of surprise on her face. The cat meowed again. “I don’t know anything about that.”

Her gaze wandered to the stairs.
Upstairs.

Prickles of unease poked at the back of her neck and Caroline angled sideways toward the stairs, looked up. Nothing. What was that about?

“No one is here,” Maria said.

Maybe. Maybe not. Caroline rested her hand on the butt of her gun just in case. “I think you know something about Jesse being an informant and you’re afraid to tell me. Why are you afraid?”

The woman dipped her head and closed her eyes. “Please,” she said. “You have to leave. I just finished a fourteen hour shift and I’m tired. I need sleep. Desperately.”

“Why are you afraid?”

“You need to go.”

“Tell me why you’re afraid.”

Finally, Maria looked up. “Because someone was in my house while I was at work last night. You people showed up yesterday and someone came in my house last night. Okay?”

An intruder? Now they were getting somewhere. “Do you know who it was?”

“No.”

“Did they break in?”

“The window in my bedroom has a screen missing. They came through there.” She pointed at a floor plant by the base of the stairs. Some kind of cactus big enough to trip over. “Plus, there was dirt on the floor. Like someone knocked over the plant and tried to clean it up, but missed some dirt.”

That would explain her distraction with the second floor. “Did you call 911?”

“In this neighborhood? Good luck. I called my neighbor and he helped me search the house. Whoever it was left, thank God. Nothing is missing.”

“Are you sure your cat wasn’t digging in the pot?”

“I’ve had that cat five years. She doesn’t dig in my plants, and she’s smart enough not to get near that cactus.”

“Maybe it was Jesse?”

“He has a key, and if he’d been here, he’d have told me. He knows I’m nervous about living alone. He’d have left a note or something. Even if I’d be mad he came here, he wouldn’t want me scared.”

That sounded reasonable enough. “What were they after? Jewelry? Money? Drugs?”

Maria glared at her like she’d just bombed the block. “I don’t do drugs.” Then her gaze shot upstairs again.

“Sorry. I wasn’t insinuating you did. Prescription drugs are all the rage right now and easy to steal.”

“And because I work at the hospital, I have a lot of those lying around, right?” She walked to the door and held it open.

Dammit. Hoping to stall, Caroline stayed put.
So close to cracking her.
“We can help you.”

“No,” Maria said. “You really can’t.”

Caroline wandered to the door, but didn’t step out. “If you’re right and someone was in the house last night, I don’t want to leave you alone. They could be dangerous. Is there somewhere you can go?”

“Sure. But if I go there, whatever trouble my brother is in will follow me and then the rest of my family is in danger.”

That was probably a safe assumption. And one Caroline refused to ignore. If Maria’s suspicion was correct and someone had searched her house, something worth finding might be here.

Time to kill two birds with one stone.

Mitch would wet his pants when she, supposedly the straight-laced one, suggested he search Maria’s house while Caroline found her a safe place to rest.

“Maria, obviously you’re exhausted. Let me take you somewhere safe so you can sleep.”