She shook her head, her eyes wide. “Not really. But I heard they were well trained, and I need a detective.”
The first guy smiled again, seeming to relax back against his car while motioning his buddy to cool it. The guy was good. “I’ve heard excellent things about them, too. Who did you talk to about them?”
Anya frowned as if knowing something wasn’t quite right but unsure what. “Who are you?” Her chin lifted.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The guy laughed and dug out a badge holder to flip open. “U.S. Marshal D.J. Smithers. We’re trying to find the detectives in connection with a current case.”
Anya’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t known they worked with the FBI. I’m so glad. Do you have any idea where they’ve gone? Why they’ve left?”
Fuck. Heath groaned. The badge was a good one, but even through the camera he could see it was fake. Anya’s sister was FBI Special Agent Loretta Jackson, and she’d been kidnapped by a serial killer nearly five days ago.
Smithers didn’t miss a beat. “No, we don’t. In fact, we’re concerned about them. It looks like they’ve gotten caught up in a dangerous case with Colombian drug cartels, and we’re concerned for their safety.”
Colombian drug Cartels? Seriously? Who the hell was this guy? Heath groaned and fought the urge to palm-smack his own head.
Anya rushed for him, waving the card. “I need to find them as soon as possible. I’ll give you my information, and if you find them, please let me know.”
Smithers handed over his badge. “Do you remember the name of their agency or any of the detectives?”
Anya glanced at his badge and then handed it back. “Um, no. Sorry about that. I met one of them, but I don’t remember his name.”
Heath winced. Guess he hadn’t been that memorable. Of course, he’d only exchanged pleasantries with her before sitting down with Agent Jackson and exchanging information. Anya was supposed to be in protective custody by now, but with her sister taken, maybe that plan had been scrapped?
Smithers reached into his back pocket for a pen and handed it over with the card. “Write down your name and cell phone number.” His tone was perfectly authoritative and polite.
Who was this guy?
Anya nodded and quickly wrote before handing back the card.
Smithers tucked it into his pocket. “We’re investigating at the moment but would like to sit down with you later. Where are you staying?”
“At the Two Horse Motel just for the night,” Anya said.
Heath gave in to the desire and smacked his hand against his forehead. Of course the woman had no idea she was dealing with trained killers, and one did have a badge, but even so. Though she must be desperate to find her sister.
“Okay,” Smithers said. “Can we offer any assistance with your case? We’re happy to help.”
She faltered. “Maybe. How about we talk about it when we sit down? I’ll get my files in order.”
“Sounds good. We’ll be in touch later today.” With a reassuring nod, he moved back toward the car and the two men quickly drove away.
Heath sighed. Why hadn’t she mentioned the FBI or her sister missing? Perhaps Anya had sensed something wrong with the guys, since they definitely weren’t with any government. Today, anyway. They’d do a background run on Anya and then decide what to do with her—or come up with a plan to nab her. He couldn’t take the chance they’d want to question her more about the guy she couldn’t remember, considering it was him.
He glanced around the abandoned office he’d been using for a few days to see who came to check out his and his brothers’ former business. Surveillance photos and videos lined the table, and he quickly scooped them up. There wasn’t anything else for him to do in Cisco, and it was time to get the hell out of town.
After he picked up Anya.
*
Anya paced the counter of the car rental facility and tapped her paperwork against her leg. Why the hell was it taking so long? The blond kid behind the counter hummed while he typed happily on a keyboard.
There wasn’t time for humming. Those fake Marshals would’ve noticed her rental car decal, and she had to get rid of the car. She looked through the thick glass doors to the quiet car lot outside. Dark clouds barreled across the sky, and sleet slashed down. So much for the meager sunshine of earlier.
“All righty.” The kid shoved glasses up his nose and smiled. “You’re all set, and I waived the fuel fee.”
“Thank you.” She shoved the papers into her purse. Her phone buzzed, and she took it out to read the screen. Another message from her sister’s partner, Special Agent Frederick Reese. The guy hadn’t stopped calling since she’d headed out on her own the night before. She ignored him again and glanced up at the blond. “When will the airport shuttle arrive?”
The kid’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Every hour. So it should be here in about fifteen minutes.”