Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(41)
Abby’s noncommittal gaze went cold. “Not yet.” She waved Emm inside. Emm entered, this time reluctantly, her gaze fixed on the boxes of evidence, but Abby was angrier than she’d ever seen her.
“Don’t you think it’s time we dispensed with this roundabouta-tion? If you persist in this imprudent behavior, I will be forced to inform Mr. Sinclair, and he will be forced to arrest you. Is that what you want?”
Emm’s smile fell like the fa?ade it was under Abigail’s full frontal assault. “No, but I don’t have many options. I’ve tried to get you both to tell me more and you won’t.”
“We are bound by law and sworn duty to keep our evidence secure. Surely you understand that there is a chain of evidence procedure here we must follow if we want to eventually bring these perpetrators to justice?”
“How much meaning will that far-in-the-future result have if both Yancy and Jennifer are dead?”
Abby waved Emm into the only chair. “Very well; if we are at an impasse, I must contact Captain Sinclair.” She picked up her cell phone, but Emm leaped to her feet and covered her hand.
“Please don’t. Can’t we do this on the QT without telling anyone? I swear on my sister’s life I won’t tell a soul if you let me look at the evidence.” When Abby stayed very still, glaring at her, Emm’s voice grew passionate. “Ross is a Texas Ranger captain, and he has to do things by the book. I’m a concerned private citizen who has tried the legal route by filing the appropriate police reports, handing out flyers, and so on. I got diddly. Once I return to Baltimore, obviously I’ll be at the wrong end of the trafficking pipeline. Call me reckless if you want, but I seem to be the only person on the face of the earth—including my mother—who is really trying to find Yancy and Jennifer. If I have to bend the law a bit to do that, I do so with full awareness of the possible consequences.”
Abby’s stern mouth relaxed a bit. “So you are willing to go to prison for a first-degree felony?”
Emm sat back down more heavily than usual, but she was suddenly very tired. “If it secures their release and return to the States, yes.”
Abby sighed. She put the phone back in her purse. “Tell me why you think you might see something we have not.”
“I know who and how often Jennifer and Yancy dated, I know the foods they like, the music they listen to, and the places they’ve traveled. Any one of those things could have influenced their movements and how they were captured. A concert, a restaurant, a trip.”
Abby hesitated, but then she went to a box of evidence, opened it, and removed a file folder marked “Jennifer Russell Internet Communications.” She set the file on the table before Emm, but when she shakily reached for it, Abby held up a cautioning hand.
“The only way to make this legal is for me to interview you as a family member. As such, you would be privy to some of these communications. In fact, I’ve seen your name more than once, so here you make a viable witness.” Abigail removed a small recorder from her purse and turned it on. “Ms. Rothschild, you’ve approached me with a request to review Jennifer’s e-mails, Facebook pages, and Tweets three months before she was taken. I’m allowing this unusual exchange, given you are the person closest to both victims. The MO of the Los Lobos cartel shows fast action in their pick of merchandise, and they gravitate to beautiful young women who have little family and are imprudent in their behavior. We suspect they would have taken Jennifer Russell shortly after they became aware of her vulnerability and beauty. If there is a link you can see in these com-muniqués, it could facilitate our ability to find whoever took her.” Abby shut off the recorder. “Proceed.”
Emm fell on the file like a rabid dog.
Ross glanced yet again at the clock on his bedside table. He’d resorted to brandy and cigars to calm his nerves, but they were not as effective as usual. He’d resolved to go to bed early—he had a full day tomorrow. It was almost ten, but he remembered Emm also had problems sleeping. Every urge in his body bade him to go to her now, to stake his claim, but if he did that, he’d be creating a clear conflict of interest. Maybe no one else would know, but he would.
He pounded his pillow and tried the other side of the bed, but thirty minutes ticked away. He was rising to warm himself some milk when his cell phone vibrated. He looked at the text. It was from Abigail Doyle and only said, “Sorry for the hour, but we have a possible new evidence vector. Can you come straightaway to my hotel room to meet with me and Ms. Rothschild?”
Ross was reaching for his clothes before he finished reading.
Thirty minutes later, Emm and Abby were sitting in an uncomfortable silence. After she’d highlighted several of Jennifer’s e-mails as possible clues, Emm had asked to also look at Yancy’s file and been denied. Abigail said only Ross Sinclair would determine how to proceed from this point, but first he had to hear why Emm thought these e-mails could lead to a key piece of evidence on how the women were snatched.
A firm rap came at the door.
Abigail got up and unlocked the door. “Thank you for coming so late.”
Ross was scowling when he entered, and Emm noted that he hadn’t taken time to comb his hair, which was mussed. His shirt was even buttoned crooked. This evidence of his haste and concern might have touched her at a less tense moment, but at the look in his eyes, she had to force herself to sit very still rather than defend herself. She let Abby do the talking and was touched when, to some degree at least, the woman covered for her.