shook his head. If his job wasn’t about getting justice, he wasn’t so sure it was a job he wanted.
Sandoval’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “Too bad, you’re a good officer.”
The compliment warmed him. Whatever conflict they had had, Sandoval was a competent chief. “I need to talk to you about another matter.”
Sandoval nodded. “Go ahead.”
“There’s a woman in the interview room with Bridget right now. I witnessed two men try to kill her earlier today. I think her life is still in danger. She can identify them.”
Sandoval straightened the papers on his desk. “So you think they will come for her again?”
“They were pretty relentless up on the mountain. Can we set her up with some protection?”
“Why were these men after her?” Not showing a high level of interest, Sandoval glanced at his computer monitor. “What does this relate to?”
“They wanted to know the whereabouts of her brother.”
“Is the brother a criminal?”
Bryan was uncomfortable with the classification—the Crew he knew had been a good person, just on a bad path. “He has a history of drug use,” Bryan admitted.
“So this might be about a bad debt or stolen drugs.” Sandoval seemed distracted as he rose from his chair and opened a file cabinet drawer.
“We don’t know. My gut says it’s more serious than that. These guys were pretty persistent. Sarah’s not involved in drug culture—if they were going to kill her to send a message to her brother then it seems like more is at stake here than a simple debt.”
“I can’t spare an officer to provide 24/7 protection, but I can send an extra patrol through her neighborhood at night. The dispatcher can be made aware if a call does come from her home.” He slammed the file drawer shut.
That wouldn’t be enough to keep Sarah safe, but pressuring Sandoval would not be effective. “I appreciate that, sir.” He turned to go. If the department couldn’t protect Sarah, maybe he’d have to.
He wandered back through the station. The female officer who had been with Sarah walked toward him holding a computer printout. “Thought you might want to look at this. These are the two men she identified.”
Bryan studied the photographs. “Yeah. Those are the guys.” Something clicked in his brain, and he examined the picture of the short, skinny man a little closer. Earlier, they’d been a bit preoccupied with running for their lives. He hadn’t had time to think about who these men might be.
“Smoke is coming out of your ears,” said Bridget.
Bryan tapped the piece of paper. “Something about this guy is ringing a bell.” He looked up from the paper. “Where is Sarah, anyway?”
“She’s reading through her statement so she can sign it.” Bridget poked him in the chest. “I’ll need to do a sit-down with you, too.”
He stared at the printout. “Can we do it later?”
“Sure, but I don’t want to wait too long.” She returned to her desk.
Bryan gripped the corners of the computer-generated photograph. The skinny thug was connected to a previous case he’d worked. That had to be why the guy looked familiar. He’d seen him in another photograph. His brain clicked through the possibilities. Only one case had been the focus of his attention since he’d come back to Discovery.
He peered around one of the carrels where a young officer with a buzz cut and thick eyebrows sat with a stack of papers in front of him.
Bryan waved the printout. “Grant, do you know what they did with my old case files?”
“They’re right where you left them. You only took a leave of absence—no one was going to pack away your stuff.”
Bryan worked his way to the back of the station. A six-foot-high divider separated the detectives’ work area from the patrol officers’ desks. His desk had been swept clean of anything personal, but it looked like someone had bothered to keep the dust from collecting. After retrieving his work phone from a drawer and placing it on the charger, he opened a file drawer and pulled out three thick manila files. How much surveillance and how many thousands of photographs had he taken?
He flipped open the first folder, shuffling through the photographs, and then the second as his heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. Was he so obsessed with Mason that he had imagined a connection? One after another, he looked at the photos and laid them aside.
Finally, he found the photograph he’d been looking for. Tyler Mason dressed in his usual expensive suit outside of a hotel in Mexico flanked by two men who were obviously acting as his bodyguards.
One of them was the same guy who had run his truck off the road.
Bryan swallowed. His fingers curled into a fist. If these guys were connected to Tyler Mason, this thing was way bigger than a couple of low-level drug dealers looking to get paid. Could this be the break he needed to blow the Mason case wide open?
“Keyes, I need to get your statement.” Bridget’s head peered around the divider, pulling him out of deep thought.
“Yes, of course. Is Sarah still in the interview room?”
“She was done. She said something about going to find her brother,” Bridget said.
He let go of the photo as it drifted down to the desk. “She’s out there by herself?” A sense of urgency girded his words.
Bridget shrugged. “She called a friend to come get her. What’s the big deal?”
“I’m concerned those guys she tangled with aren’t going to give up that easily.”
“Don’t you think they are still tromping through the woods or sitting in the back of a sheriff’s car by now?”
“I’m pretty sure they have friends in town.” His heart pounded from the sense of urgency he felt. “What was her home address?”
Bridget tilted her head. “I don’t know if I can disclose that.”
He grabbed her forearm. “You heard from the report how determined these guys were. I have a feeling they’re not working alone.”
Bridget let out a breath. “Okay. It was on Madison Street....” She thought for a moment and then looked down at the stack of papers she held in the crook of her elbow, flipping through several pages. “Three twenty-one Madison Street, that subdivision on the edge of town.”
After grabbing his phone off the charger, he stalked toward the front of the station, his mind racing as he walked. His truck was floating down the Jefferson River. His car was parked at his house. He stopped in front of the young officer he’d talked to earlier. “Grant, loan me the keys to your car.”
Grant raised his eyebrows. “Because...?”
“Because
