The Cowboy Lawman. Brenda Minton

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      Chapter Two

      By Saturday Mia was going stir-crazy. She needed to get out of the house. She needed information and no one had it. And she had definitely tried to get it. She’d called the DEA field office in Tulsa asking questions. Her supervisor had eventually called her back and told her to put her energy into getting better—he’d be the one finding out how Nolan Jacobs had gotten away with murdering one of their agents. Maybe Jacobs hadn’t pulled the trigger, but he’d been there. The order to kill had come from him.

      She sat at the kitchen table, her laptop in front of her, her cell phone on vibrate. Who had sold them out? She started with a list of people who had been in on their assignment, one that had kept her on the outskirts of Oklahoma City for months when she would have preferred to be anywhere else.

      They had lived in a roach-infested apartment, she and Butch. One bedroom, but he’d slept on the couch while they pretended to be husband and wife, small-time dealers wanting in on the big-time. When she left that apartment she’d left behind the clothes, the shoes, the makeup that Maria Vargas, her other identity, had worn.

      Maria would have made Mia’s mom, Angie Cooper, blush. Maria had made Mia blush a few times. She shook her head, remembering the role she’d played. While in character, she’d looked for family who had lived in Oklahoma City. She’d searched bars and parties for a man who might have been her father. A man with no name but perhaps a tattoo with her mother’s name, or even hers.

      She’d looked for Breezy and hoped, of all the people she searched for, she wouldn’t see her little sister in the crowd, thin from using, near death. She’d never spotted her sibling.

      Without really thinking, she went online and put in the last known name of her little sister. Breezy Hernandez. They’d all had different fathers; Mia Jimenez, Juan Lopez and Breezy Hernandez. Juan was in jail for armed robbery and distribution of a controlled substance.

      Breezy was the mystery. They’d given her to her paternal grandmother. Angie had learned that much all those years ago. But where they’d gone to—that was the big question. Breezy had disappeared.

      The clock in the living room chimed the noon hour. Mia looked at the web page she’d brought up. More dead ends. She closed down her computer and walked to the fridge, to stare again at contents that did nothing for her. She hadn’t been hungry in forever.

      Because of the burning question: Who had ratted them out? Who had given away information on other law enforcement officers? Who had taken the money and how had they framed Butch?

      She closed the fridge and walked through the house. At the front door, she slipped her feet into flip-flops and shoved money into her pocket. If she didn’t have anything good for lunch, Vera at the Mad Cow Café would.

      A patrol car eased past her house as she walked out the door. They had all the tact and finesse of boys cruising around on Friday night. Everyone knew what they were up to. And anyone watching Mia would know that the deputies cruised past her house every hour or so. But they cared. They were trying to protect her. In Tulsa they were doing the same for Butch’s wife, Tina.

      If Nolan came after her, though, he’d know their routine. He’d know their cars. СКАЧАТЬ