Nico smiled at the girl behind the register and walked out of Rosita’s, picking up his cell. Pretty little thing, this Paige. Dressed and made up for scaring kids during Halloween but pretty nevertheless. And smart. He’d spent the whole evening working her, which hadn’t been a burden because she was great company, but he didn’t make any headway. She had that sixth sense that nowadays was missing from so many people, the prickle at the neck warning about predators and danger. Nico could spot victims miles away. They moved and talked and behaved in a certain manner. Stank of fear. Like socialized animals that had lost their instincts and were at the mercy of others’ whims.
Victims were easy prey; people like Paige weren’t. They would put up a fight; it was in her eyes and the way her spine stood straight, radiating self-awareness and security. He’d done his homework before coming to Rosita’s and had investigated her. He knew what that choke collar of hers hid. A girl wouldn’t get a scar like that and live to tell the tale if she weren’t a fighter. And whether she did it unconsciously or not, she’d sensed the danger and ultimately turned him down.
But the visit to the restaurant hadn’t been fruitless. He’d learned a shitload of stuff.
Up until now, he hadn’t been able to wrap his mind around what the hell Elle Cooper, a witness under federal protection, had been doing in the open at the fund-raiser. And it had been Elle Cooper; he’d seen the video footage of the security cameras to confirm it. As far as he’d been able to find out from his contacts in law enforcement, the name of the witness in the Maldonado case was kept secret, her location undisclosed. Not running around Boston attending social events with an alleged high-profile arms dealer. Unless the alleged high-profile arms dealer wasn’t an arms dealer at all and she was there by mistake.
He sat in his car and pulled up the copy of the video footage he’d gotten from the security at the hotel, scrolling until he found what he was searching for. There, from the lobby camera, he could see the one with the short Mohawk, the same guy who was in pictures at Rosita’s, going to the event in the other ballroom. A quick Internet search gave him the info he needed. It had been a private party thrown by Patricia Vaughan to welcome her great-grandchild into society. Elizabeth Vaughan Bowen.
Amazing how Elle had gotten Alex to agree to take her to that event. Huge hold she had on him. Judging by what Nico had dug up on social media, this chick was involved in a thousand things although he hadn’t seen any picture of Alex on her profiles. The Bowens, though, were splattered all over them.
Now he just had to figure out where she was.
Where Elle Cooper wasn’t, was at her place or at Rosita’s, which was under surveillance. Too many military guys around for it to be a coincidence. It was not going to be possible to get to her as long as this bunch were on high alert. Not to mention Alex Ayala was with her. Nico had personally checked Ayala’s background when Exxum had started dealing with him; after all, his job was to foresee the unexpected, and everything had added up. Except for the fact that high-profile career criminals did not protect federal witnesses.
Nico drove to Elle’s neighborhood and parked several streets over. People were too nosy in that area.
Sneaking into the house was a piece of cake. There were door squealers but they had been dismantled.
He moved methodically through the house. It didn’t look like they had run away or had taken anything with them. The fridge was full; suitcases were still in the closet. There were several bedrooms in the house, but only one seemed to have been used. So Alex, or whoever he was, was screwing this chick.
Elle’s laptop didn’t provide any big clues until he checked the e-mails. She’d deleted them, but apparently she didn’t know enough about computers to erase them permanently, because he retrieved a rather big bunch of them, which confirmed Alex was a covert operative of some sort and totally in love with her. Any respectable agent with half a brain would have severed this relationship long ago. Deleted the e-mail account. Instead, Alex, or the “Borg,” as Elle called him, had allowed this to continue. Which also explained how come Elle was roaming around instead of hiding in a hole.
On his way to the kitchen, he picked up the mail from the floor. Bills, catalogs, nothing worth his time, until he came upon a big, heavy envelope from a photography studio. He opened it and studied the pictures. They were from a christening. Cute kid. Then, in between the shots, he spotted a very interesting one. It was of Elle and Alex holding the baby, and the photographer had inserted a band of some sort on the bottom which read: Me with my godparents.
Godparents. How interesting. So Alex had been roped into being a godfather, which meant he’d had to sign his name. Catholics were funny that way. They loved bureaucracy.
When he made it to the kitchen, he noticed a calendar on the fridge door full of notes and appointments. Busy chick.
There was this upcoming event circled in red with lots of exclamation marks and hearts.
He might not know yet who Alex was or his whereabouts, but he had a pretty good hunch where he was going to be.
He grabbed his cell and pulled up his boss’s details.
“You found her?” a voice greeted him.
“No, but I got something better.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jack turned into the service area and parked near James’s black pickup.
James stepped out of it, and so did Cole and Max. Shit, Jack knew where this was headed.