Page 57 of Saving Grace
“If it is, it’s not with me,” I admitted with a hint of frustration. I had searched through my purse and had only found one thing that didn’t look familiar. “I found this key.” I held up the object for everyone to see. “In meet-ups like this, I prefer not to write down the details, but memorize the information.”
“Oh, the irony,” Lucas murmured.
“The joke’s on me,” I muttered. “Until my missing memory returns, this key is useless.”
“But what happened to the accountant?”
“We were supposed to leave the airport separately after he gave me what I needed. He was to get on a Jericho flight to Tennessee to the safe house where two of Troy’s men were supposed to meet him.”
“My crew was killed,” Troy said. “I knew this was the case when they never checked in. I went to Tennessee to bring their bodies back.” He closed his eyes as if pained by the memory. “Then I spent the next few weeks trying to find a clue as to what had happened.”
“I think The Reaper has Escobar or he’s already dead,” I concluded. “That The Reaper is focusing his attention on me tells me I’m the last loose end that could bring down the cartel.”
“You’ve made yourself the cartel’s number one enemy,” Matt growled. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“This is bigger than me and a lot more complicated. The information I have in my hands can be used as evidence in the prosecution of Hector Vargas. We’re not sure where the loyalty of the current cartel leadership lies. My gut tells me they’d like to see Vargas rot in prison and assume total autonomy in running the organization. However, if their distribution network is disrupted, it would take a big chunk out of their profits.”
“But not necessarily cripple the organization,” Troy countered. “We’ve discussed this, Grace. For every prosecuted narco-dealer, five more would crop up. With heroin becoming the drug of choice, the landscape is changing. The cartel might be willing to give up their current distributors to form new alliances. That way there won’t be a question of loyalty.”
“They let the accountant get away on purpose?” Trent asked.
“It’s probable,” Troy replied.
“The Reaper is loyal to Hector. The hitman was definitely involved in the airport bombing because I heard my captors mention his name. And yet, there were four ambulances missing. Do you know if those have been located, Trent?”
“I haven’t kept up with the details of the investigation,” the sheriff replied. He scribbled on his notepad. “I’ll do it as soon as I get back to the office. What do you suspect?”
“There has to be more than the interception of the accountant to warrant such a plan,” I speculated. “I’m thinking it was meant as a diversion for something bigger. And I’m having a gut feeling that Elliot knows something.”
“He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you were flying back that Monday,” Troy reminded her.
“But he didn’t argue for long.”
“Meaning he wanted you to get caught in the crossfire?” Matt inferred incredulously.
God, that hurt. I had known Elliot a long time—even my mom liked him. However, we started butting heads after the capture of Hector Vargas. I could never forgive him or myself for leaving Matt behind to be tortured. The SEALs were given orders to physically remove me from our Loreto house if I refused to leave. I had been kept in isolation until the whole op was done and Vargas was in custody. But my nightmare had only begun because Matt had been taken. It tore me up inside that he wouldn’t take my calls and believed that I had abandoned him in that hell hole. My suspicions of Elliot’s involvement in the rise of the new cartel leadership were strong, but I had no proof until Troy and the accountant confirmed it. It became more imperative that Matt knew the truth, my job be damned. So I told him everything in that dark parking lot of Mike’s Roadhouse. He didn’t seem surprised, nor did we suddenly become long lost buddies either. There was a tension that continued to brew between us, until a couple of nights later when we combusted. The sex had been scorching hot and tinged with a desperation to get under each other’s skin. It was a wonder we didn’t tear up the motel room. The morning after though …
“Grace?” Matt’s worried voice brought me out of my momentary flashback.
I rubbed my temples with the pad of two fingers. “Sorry. I remembered less than pleasant memories and it somehow sucked me in.”
“The neuro said that would happen,” Matt reminded gently. “Maybe we should continue this some other time?”
“I’m really fine,” I said, almost snapping, but managing to blunt the edge of my tone. “But I can’t think of any more info that may be of use at the moment.”
“My deputy is following up with the shop where The Reaper bought the flowers,” Trent said. “From what we know so far, he paid cash. The clerk is at the station right now with our sketch artist for a composite. There’s no surveillance inside the shop, but the parking lot of the strip mall where the shop is located does. My man is reviewing the footage right now.”
“If he’d been able to hire out my abduction, I doubt The Reaper would have gone into the flower shop himself,” I pointed out.
“The thought crossed my mind,” Trent said. “But that’s the only lead we have.”
“How often does Elliot contact you nowadays?” Troy asked.
“Once a week.”
“Are you going to tell him you got your memory back?”
I nodded. “I will—”