Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(55)

Yancy Russell, who had been strong enough for many months to carefully plot their escape in the face of threats, abuse, and sexual assault, stared blankly into the darkness, unable to utter a word of encouragement as she listened to her daughter’s sobs.





CHAPTER 11

The next day, Emm was at the interview fifteen minutes early. She’d dressed primly for the occasion in her plain white cotton blouse and plain black pant suit, as if denying the wild sensuality Ross had aroused yesterday. She knew it was a lie, Ross knew it was a lie, but maybe Abby wouldn’t.

In any case, she completed the masquerade with small gold earrings.

Ross met her in the waiting area exactly one minute before the appointed time. His eyes caressed her up one side and down the other, and his lips quirked, as if he caught the unspoken message. She merely shook his hand briskly and gave him a look back that said, Just business. His expression went blank. Without comment, he led her into his office. Abby already sat in one chair. She nodded a greeting with a stiff smile that set Emm on alert. She hadn’t known Hermione Abigail Doyle for very long, but she knew her well enough to realize Abby didn’t do subterfuge any better than she did herself.

Something had happened.

Ross waved Emm into the other chair and didn’t waste time. “Here’s the phone and Internet communication file for Yancy.” His earlier teasing had been replaced with a stony expression she hadn’t seen since he’d stopped her on the road outside Amarillo. That seemed eons ago now.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“In a moment.” He only nodded slightly at the communications file. While she read, he stated the facts of the interview into a small recorder and had her sign a release. Then she flipped through the few pages quickly, but other than more phone calls between Yancy and Curt than she’d ever suspected, she saw nothing unusual that alarmed her. She recognized an area code for Miami a few times, and something tickled the back of her brain, but she realized it wasn’t immediately relevant even as she tried to memorize the number for later.

She shrugged. “I’m sure you both know Curt shows up often. Yet they broke up over a year ago, and most of the calls are incoming from him.” She looked at each of them in turn, knowing Ross wouldn’t be happy to hear she’d confronted Curt herself with her suspicions. She wanted to see if they’d questioned him before she relayed her own information.

When she waited, he snapped off the recorder and answered her question as clearly as if she’d voiced it. “Yes, we brought him in for questioning, and he didn’t try to hide the fact that he still cares about Yancy. He told us himself about his calls to her and they seemed relatively innocent in nature. Invitations for lunch, sharing his purchase of his new car, that kind of thing. He said he tried to maintain a friendship with her because she mattered to him.”

“Did you know Yancy told him she was going to threaten to turn Brett Umarov in to the DEA for drug trafficking if he didn’t leave Jennifer alone, and she suspected he was involved.”

Ross and Abby both stiffened. “Who told you that?” Ross demanded.

“Curt did. And he also claimed he warned Detective Ruiz, who took his statement on the matter shortly after Yancy disappeared. Yet, from all accounts, Ruiz let Brett go without a further investigation, even though a search of the band’s recording studio turned up drugs in small quantities. ”

Ross looked at Abby, who had immediately opened her laptop and brought up a file. She paged through some information, stopped, and scanned a page. She nodded. “There is a report, but it’s very abbreviated, states only that the former boyfriend came in to give a statement claiming his former girlfriend had named Brett Umarov as being involved in drug trafficking for Los Lobos. Ruiz stated he sent a junior detective to question Brett, but the man came back saying it was a dead end. End of report.”

Ross stared at Emm so long and so harshly that she shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if she was sitting in the hot seat. “Satisfied yet that we’re doing our job?” he demanded.

She tilted her chin up at his look, also hearing his unspoken accusation clearly. “Yes, I questioned Curt. He claimed he had to take a second mortgage on his condo to pay for renovations. He also claimed he bought the Carrera with royalties from his new book. That should be easy enough to check. It cost 150k.”

At Ross’s nod, Abby turned her laptop on the front of his desk so Emm could see it.

She explained, “We just got this yesterday at my request. The publisher agreed to share Curt’s royalty statements with, shall we say, a bit of persuasion—and a subpoena—from our friends at the DEA.”

Emm scanned the summary report. It showed a healthy 50k in royalties in the last year, but not near enough to pay for such an expensive vehicle, as Curt had claimed. His mortgage record also showed only a first lien, with no second. She leaned back, unsurprised. “So he lied. Twice. What now?”

Ross said, “The problem is, if we bring him in for more questioning he’s likely to panic and run, or to alert whomever he reports to in the pipeline that we’re probably on to him. While financial records like this indicate a smoking gun, it’s not enough to prosecute. We need evidence of the actual laundering because the money trail will lead us to the head of the cartel with enough evidence to storm the compound and, ultimately, win convictions in both Mexico and here.”