“George Lusk might be a dead end.”
Jonas snorted. “My gut says he’s our man.” There was a pause, then Jonas added, “By the way, I did a little checking into that other employee. Matt Goodger is twenty-three years old and lives about half an hour from the market. I think we can official y rule him out.”
Wade wasn’t surprised by the news. “What’d you learn?” “Wel , for one—and this is a biggie—the dude’s not into women. In fact, he’s been with his partner, a guy by the name of Rob El iot, for the last five years. They’re both art students. And from what I could dig up, they pretty much live and breathe the stuff.”
Wade frowned. “When did you have time to find al this out?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night. Figured I might as wel do something productive.”
“Thanks, man,” Wade said. He was damn lucky to have a friend like Jonas.
“No problem.”
“See you in a few.” Wade flipped the phone shut and put the truck into gear. He hadn’t said it aloud, but Wade had been feeling the same way about Lusk. Since the moment they’d realized the significance of the dates on the e-mails, Wade had felt like they were closing in on Gracie’s stalker. Unfortunately, stalkers were sneaky little bastards, and they tended to be difficult to keep behind bars. They were careful.
Finding enough evidence wasn’t always easy. Wade was determined that one way or another, Gracie would be safe. Soon.
Jonas had spoken the truth the day before. If George Lusk turned out to be their man, but there wasn’t enough evidence to bring charges against him, then they’d just bury the fucker. One of the first things they’d learned from their black ops days: there are plenty of ways to make a man disappear without a trace.
“Damn, I love my job.”
Wade rol ed his eyes. “You get way too much joy out of hacking into state computers.”
“We al have to find our jol ies somewhere.”
Standing behind Jonas’s chair at the computer, Wade said, “This is why I don’t want you around Deanna. You’re a hairsbreadth away from turning into a sicko.”
“I take pleasure in my work. What’s wrong with that?”
Wade smacked him on the back of the head. “Quit messing around and get me the address and license plate number.”
Jonas jotted something down on a sticky note and held it in the air. “You’re no fun at al .”
Wade snatched it out of his hand and read the address. “This is close to that market.”
“Just a few streets away.” Jonas hit a few keys, and the computer screen went black. Standing, he reached for the digital camera on a shelf over the desk. “So, are we going spying?”
Wade looked at his friend. They’d been together for years, and they’d always had each other’s back. Knowing it was personal for Wade this time around had him admitting, “I’m emotional about this one, Phoenix.”
“So, I should make sure you don’t shoot the asshole before the police have a crack at him?”
Wade chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”
Jonas let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s always about the details with you.” He slipped the knife out of the sheath on his belt loop and flipped it into the air, catching it easily. “If it were up to me, we’d do our own interrogation.”
Wade checked the gun he had strapped into his chest harness. “Gracie had it right when she said you were bloodthirsty.”
“Hey, she included you on that one.”
Wade took in Jonas’s appearance. He wore a black T-shirt, old worn jeans, and army boots. Wade had pul ed on a long-sleeved black shirt, jeans, and black work boots. “Christ, check us out, would ya?”
Jonas gave him the once-over and frowned. “What?”
“We look like we’re going out on mission rather than doing a little surveil ance work.”
Jonas tucked the knife back into its sheath and checked the camera’s memory. “Just because we like to be prepared, doesn’t make us bloodthirsty.”
“No, but it does make us a little different from most folks.”