“So what does this have to do with Bryson?” Audrey asked.
Mena pointedly ignored her, instead addressing Gabe as he motioned toward the Bogotá map still laid out on the table on the veranda. “That house belonged to Rorro’s father. Your team cannot find it because Rorro’s father, in addition to being a pervert, was also a very accomplished racketeer and money launderer. Nothing he owned is in his name. Even for your analyst, Señor Physick, whom I’m told is one of the best available, it’ll take days to wade through all the paperwork, and that is only if your team is looking in Rorro’s direction. We both know Bryson doesn’t have days. As soon as they get the money, they will kill him. That is what I would do in their place.”
Audrey recoiled in disgust. He spoke of murder like you would crush a cockroach, without a second thought or regret. She looked at Gabe to see his reaction, but he was nodding in agreement.
God. Sometimes, when he was in war mode, he truly scared her.
Gabe opened the file in his hand, leafed through, closed it again and, to her surprise, passed it to her. She opened it and found all the pages written in Spanish. Ah, that explains it.
She shook off her horror and translated without waiting for him to ask. “It’s papers pertaining to the house’s ownership and bank statements for both Rorro and Jacinto. Rorro, a.k.a. Rodrigo Salazar Vargas, is very well off. Jacinto, not so much, but there has been a flurry of activity on his card in both Bryson’s and Rorro’s neighborhoods.” She found a picture dated last night of Rorro leaving a disco and showed it to Gabe.
“Huh,” was all he said.
“There’s also a charge for a limo rental on one of Rorro’s cards the day Bryson was abducted,” she told him. “It’s not an unusual charge, but there’s a note here saying he never returned the car to the limo company.”
“I believe you wanted a good reason to approach Rorro’s house,” Mena chimed in. “There you go. One very good reason.”
“Yeah, it is.” But Gabe didn’t sound happy about it. He looked at Mena and ground his molars for a moment of pure frustration before biting the bullet and asking, “Can I use your phone to contact my team?”
That Cheshire Cat grin flashed again. “Oh, that was painful, wasn’t it? Asking me for a favor.”
“You have no idea,” Gabe said. “But, you’re right, Bryson doesn’t have much time, and I won’t waste it by nursing a grudge.”
“You are so noble. Really, I find it sickening.” He sat in the leather chair behind his desk and waved toward the phone. “It’s all yours, but keep in mind they will not be able to trace the number.”
Audrey stayed where she was, looking through the file, but watched Gabe dial out of the corner of her eye. He stood with all his weight on his left foot again and looked so far beyond fatigued that he was freefalling into exhaustionland.
Poor man. He’d had…what? Not counting his bought of unconsciousness, he’d had about four hours of sleep in the past forty-eight. She had squeezed in a little more than that and still felt dead on her feet, so she couldn’t imagine how he was still going.
Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed him so hard to have sex earlier. Even as much as they both wanted it, and she’d needed it, she should have let him sleep instead. The short afterglow nap obviously hadn’t been long enough to do him any good.
“Quinn,” he said into the phone, and Quinn’s exclamation of surprise was so loud she heard it from across the room.
Gabe made a gesture of impatience and raised his voice in a drill sergeant’s command: “Listen up. You need to destroy your phone as soon as we disconnect.”
Mena lifted his brows at that, but said nothing, smile still in place.
“Then scramble the team and recon this address.” He gave the address in some sort of military code Audrey didn’t understand. “Our principle may be inside. I’ll be—”
Gabe stiffened and turned toward the library doors a second before they burst open and Liam Miller strode in with a gun and a wild, hyped look in his brown eyes. He grinned and shut the doors soundly behind him.
Several things happened at once, so fast Audrey’s mind raced to catch up. Liam raised his weapon to Mena and said, “I quit,” the same moment Mena started to rise and reached inside his jacket for his own gun. Gabe stood directly between them, caught in the crossfire, and could only drop the phone and twist partially out of the way before Liam’s bullet ripped through his side and struck Mena in the face, taking off the back of his head and spraying brains over the back wall. Mena’s finger tightened reflexively on the trigger as he slumped sideways in the chair and the shot went wild. Audrey felt the burn of it slice through her upper arm.