Escalante on trial yet.”
“Not until somebody finds him. And I don’t expect that to happen anytime soon.” Escalante, the drug lord who made the activities of some of the sleaziest crooks in Colorado Springs possible, had managed to escape during the raids on his Venezuelan compound. “But at least Peter Vance got the goods on him.”
“Yeah, he did. With the two of you involved, this has been a great pretrial. He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?”
“My best friend, from way back. Adam wasn’t the only one who’d risked his life taking on the La Mano Oscura drug ring. Peter built this case for years before you and I got hold of it.”
Jake tapped a stack of computer disks with a slim finger. “Now if I can just tie all this back to Barclay and find the corresponding info on his computer, at least we can put him away for a few decades. And maybe that will give us the time to find Escalante and put him away, too.”
“Yeah, well that’s possible. But I’m not here to congratulate you on helping us to convict Barclay, even though I’ll be cheering you every step of the way. I’m here to remind you to be even more careful than usual while you do it.”
“That will be hard to do.” Jake tried to sound more cool and calm than he felt. “I’m always careful to a fault.” For a change the work-issue sidearm in his shoulder holster felt like a comfort instead of an annoyance.
“Says the man who has paid so many moving violation tickets he’s paid for his own Colorado Springs patrol car.” Rose’s grin was wolfish.
“It can’t be that high. Maybe a scooter by now. Or part of the winter feed for one of the horses. But not a whole patrol car yet. It’s the car, anyway. A red Viper just screams ‘ticket me,’” Jake grumbled. “And the Escalade isn’t any more cop friendly. When I switch over to that when winter starts, it’s just as bad.”
“You could drive something more sedate.” Rose’s expression told Jake she knew that wasn’t going to happen. “Parking tickets aside, I know you’re a pretty safe guy for being FBI. But I don’t trust any of these guys that are still out on the street. Escalante may have vanished, but a lot of money vanished with him. And it would be in his best interests if Barclay walked. Or even better, if he died quickly and quietly and the evidence never materialized.”
Jake waved a hand in dismissal. “Not possible. You and your boss already have plenty of evidence to convict Barclay and put him away for longer than his natural life expectancy. And I know everybody’s watching him like a hawk after what happened to that doctor.” They might be months further along in this process if Escalante hadn’t gotten to his plant within Doctors Without Borders so quickly. After that jail-house murder, nobody was leaving Barclay alone for a moment.
“It’s still not enough to tie him to Escalante, which is just the way everyone would like it. I mean it, Jake. These guys play rough, and they play for keeps.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Jake knew he was beginning to sound aggravated. “I’ve been involved in this for months. I’ve seen what they can do.” Adam was still recovering from being shot months ago during a drug robbery at the Venezuelan clinic he’d been working in for Doctors Without Borders.
“I have, too.” Rose sounded grim. “I just don’t want to see any more of it this close to home. Don’t forget you’ve got one of my favorite cousins working for you, mister. I want her kept in one piece.”
Jake had to think about that one a minute. This tiny terror was related to Holly? Of course. When she wagged her finger in his face as she was doing now, she looked just like her aunt, Holly’s mother. Marilyn D’Arcy Vance had terrorized a couple generations of Colorado Springs high schoolers before moving on to another job.
“Holly? No need to worry on that score. I wouldn’t let anybody touch Holly. If I lost her, the office would fall apart.”
Rose grimaced, wrinkling her pug nose. “Glad to know you’re so fond of her on such a personal basis, Jake.”
Jake shrugged. “Dates are easy to get. But a good assistant…I couldn’t replace her if I tried.”
“See that you don’t have to. I’m holding you personally responsible for her safety, as well as your own. The task force is already spread pretty thin cleaning up the loose ends of Diablo.”
Jake knew there were still branches of the crime syndicate active in and around Colorado Springs. The task force didn’t need to worry about him as well. “We’ll be okay. Go get some rest. Go home and have dinner with your feet up.”
Rose made a most unladylike noise in dismissal of that comment. “Right, like that’s going to happen anytime the rest of this year. Maybe after the trial.”
The two said their goodbyes and Jake went back to his desk. There was still plenty to do in order to nail Alistair Barclay. It was a good thing he didn’t have one particular woman in his life right now, because if he had, she would be plenty peeved at him. Rose was right. Cracking this case was going to take every waking hour for the next few weeks.
On Wednesday Holly got to work at seven-thirty in the morning, sure that she would have a clean desk for a change. There was plenty of space in the parking garage this early for her Jeep, and the roads were clear of the light snow that had fallen the previous day.
She’d stayed until seven the night before, leaving only when Jake promised that he was right behind her on the way out. One look at her work station told her that was a promise he hadn’t kept. There were three files with notes jotted in his awful handwriting all over the margins, and at least half a dozen sticky notes on the papers and her computer screen.
Sighing, she hung her coat on the rack, put down her coffee and started deciphering the notes. The most interesting said “Book us a working lunch at the Stagecoach.”
Jake hardly ever took her out to lunch unless he needed something special from her. Given the nature of the case he was working on, she could only imagine what kind of favors he was going to ask this time. She hoped it wasn’t canceling all his dates to the various charity balls and benefit parties this holiday season. Or ordering flowers as an apology for all his stood-up partners for those functions. She could handle a lot working for Jake, but some things were beyond her comfort level.
Still, she wouldn’t turn down going to the Stagecoach Café for lunch and sampling some of her aunt Lidia’s marvelous cooking. It was just cold enough this morning to hope that Lidia had made minestrone soup and chili to counteract the chill in the air.
By the time Jake came in at eight, Holly had dealt with all the sticky notes except one, and checked her e-mail for bureau updates and other business. Coffee was steaming in a thermal carafe and Jake’s blinds were open precisely enough to let the morning sun in without any glare on his computer screen, just the way he liked it.
Of course he would never notice any of that. Whistling, her handsome boss hung his wool topcoat on the coat rack and went straight for the coffee, where his favorite Colorado State Rams mug sat next to the carafe, upside down and spotless.
“Good morning, Holly.” Her heart leaped at the sight of him, as it did most mornings. By now Holly knew she was practiced enough at keeping her outside appearance calm that Jake never knew how he affected her. His charcoal suit fit like no off-the-rack garment ever could, and his dark-blond hair was cut just perfectly. She was glad to see that, because it was hard to guess when he might get time for a haircut
