Best Laid Plans(79)

“Body found in Atascosa County. Two gunshot wounds in the leg, one in the back of the head. Blood type AB positive—the same as the shooter who got away at our crime scene.”

“ID?”

“No, but the M.E. said there were gang tats, and the estimated time-of-death fits.” Brad tossed Ryan a file. “Ballistics from the crime scene.”

Ryan opened the file. “They confirmed the guns were from the stolen shipment based on the ammo?”

“Yep. The shipment of guns that Vasco Trejo sold to Tobias. At least, that’s what we think was going on based on a partial conversation.”

“Something you overheard when they captured you?”

Brad hesitated, then nodded. Lucy had overheard the conversation, but he couldn’t say that. “Basically, Tobias was furious that Trejo had lost part of the gun shipment to Kane Rogan’s mercenaries. He wanted his money back.”

“How many guns are still out there?”

“A lot. Rogan was only able to retrieve two trucks but suspected that twice as many disappeared with Tobias or his people.”

“And some of the guns that Trejo controlled—ostensibly to sell to Tobias—killed Tobias’s people.”

“If Sanchez’s team joined Tobias.”

Ryan said, “Why would Tobias sell guns to one of his rivals? And since Trejo is dead and Rogan thinks Tobias had the guns, why would he kill his own gang?”

“Maybe he sold them to a rival group, who then turned on Tobias.”

“But there’s been no retaliation. This case is giving me a headache.”

“It’s too f*cking quiet. It’s making me itchy.” Brad paused, then added, “ATF is taking over as primary. They say since it’s an international gun incident, it’s theirs.”

“That really sucks. A million dollars in drugs and they walk in? None of the guns were found on scene.”

“They’re wrong, and it’s going to get in the way. This isn’t about guns, this is about the cartels and their growing foothold in southern Texas. It’s a power play, pure and simple. I think they took it because the DOJ doesn’t trust us after Nicole. We’ve had bureaucrats up our ass for two months.”

“Did you talk to Rollins?”

Brad’s hands clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Sam told me she was a cold bitch, but she goes beyond cold. She wants witness protection. I just can’t figure out if she really has valuable intel, or if she’s just playing us.”

“What did she say?”

“If the remainder of the Trejo/Sanchez gang was taken out, Tobias allowed it or did it himself.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would Tobias want to take out his own gang? And leave the drugs?”

“Distrust, skimming, loyalty issues.”

“They were Sanchez’s people. We know next to nothing about Tobias. We don’t know where he calls home base and have only a vague description. And,” Ryan continued, “if we think that Tobias has been neutered, we focus our attention on the shooters—not Tobias himself.”

Brad’s knee began to tighten, and he shifted in the driver’s seat. He had a doctor’s appointment at the end of the day; he’d moved it up from Friday. He needed to be officially cleared for duty. The only reason Sam had let him work this case was because it was mostly a passive investigation at this point, he was officially “consulting” with the SAPD, and Ryan was assisting in the field.

He really despised being babied.

Brad said, “I really hate that the director and DOJ are considering Nicole’s request for witness protection, but Sam made a plea that she didn’t deserve to breathe free air. Nicole mentioned it to me again. She said our house isn’t clean.”

“Did you tell your boss?”

“I tried, but Sam cut me off. She said we can’t believe anything she says. That she’ll say and do anything to get out of prison.”

“What do you think?”

“I think Nicole knows more than she’s said, but not as much as she claims.”

“She could have been goading you. If you think you can’t trust your team, you’re all at risk.”

And that bothered Brad on a deep, indescribable level.

His phone rang. It was Ash from the SAPD investigative unit. Brad had left three messages for him. “Donnelly,” he said. “It’s about time you got back to me.”

“Don’t start with me. The ATF has been having me re-run every f*cking test, including ballistics, then they took all the bullets we extracted. Then, I had to walk them through the entire scene at two this afternoon. Do you know how f*cking hot it was at two? Hotter than hell. And they kept me for two hours when I have a shitload of work piled.”

“You need a beer.”

“Damn straight.”

“Did ATF take the heroin?”

“No.”

“Have you tested it? Ryan and I are here, and we can’t figure out why the drugs were left behind.”

“It’s still in evidence. We did the field test on one sample, confirmed for heroin, but I need to sample each brick, determine the purity, input the data, run it through the system to see where it came from—you know the drill.”