If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [69]
“It’s not like those guys to leave a witness.”
“She fingered him, but also told her husband’s security chief who did it, and Molina’s people got to him first. Tortured and killed him. His knife was found in the bushes outside the window with both Molina’s and Swain’s blood on it.”
“That must have been hell to live through. Could have changed anyone.”
“Don’t lose sleep over what happened to Bobbie Swain,” Duke said. “According to both Molina’s cartel and others, she was just as ruthless as her husband. Kane heard the same thing, plus a nasty rumor.”
“You called Kane?”
Their brother Kane Rogan knew near everything about the international drug trade.
“You said you needed the information fast. Molina’s murder started a drug war. And Bobbie Swain walked away.”
“Drug lords don’t usually let people leave the business,” Sean commented.
“Kane’s theory was that she and Julio Gomez worked together to kill her husband, then Gomez turned on her, not wanting a witness. It’s all about access—logistically, Gomez needed an inside accomplice to access her husband’s safe.”
“But Bobbie managed to survive and fingered Gomez.”
“Molina’s people never thought she was involved, and she walked away. It was a bloody fight between Molina’s people and Gomez’s. In the end, a third player rose to the top of the food chain. Someone named Theo Corbin, an American who is affiliated with some nasty people in Colombia.”
Sean nearly missed the narrow, rutted driveway that marked the Callahan property. He made a sharp left turn and his truck barely cleared the old posts. A single light on the right illuminated a weatherworn metal sign:
H & E RANCH
MR. & MRS. HENRY CALLAHAN
SPRUCE LAKE, NEW YORK
Sean wondered how Jon Callahan felt living out here with his uncle. Unmarried, commuting three hours to Montreal several times a month. Unless he had something else going on—something illegal and lucrative. Agent Victoria Sheffield had been investigating white-collar crimes that crossed the border. Sean could see all the pieces of the puzzle, but he didn’t know how they fit together—yet.
“Did you hear me?” Duke asked.
“Sorry, almost missed my turn.”
“Kane speculated that Bobbie Swain had planned for Corbin to take over.”
Sean’s truck bounced over the potholes and he had to slow even more. “You mean she started the war between Molina and Gomez in order for a dark horse to come in and take over?”
“Bingo.”
“Do you have any evidence? That’s pretty damn cold-blooded.”
“It is. There’s no proof and little talk. But Corbin knows certain information that only Molina had—Molina and his wife.”
“When did this happen?”
“Six years ago.”
“Around the same time Paul Swain was sent to prison. Could that be a coincidence?”
“You tell me.”
The driveway turned sharply to the left, then a well-lit house came into view. He turned off his headlights, drove past the house, and parked on the far side of the garage. The sudden silence was broken only by the tick of his cooling engine.
“I’m talking to Paul Swain tomorrow.”
“Watch out for him.”
“Kane have intel on him, too?”
“No, he doesn’t track the domestic drug trade. Never heard of Spruce Lake or Paul Swain, and Bobbie Swain dropped off his radar when she left Miami. He’s going to ask around, but doubts he’ll find out anything in the next day or two.”
“Meaning he’s not going to try.” Sean knew his brother well, better than Duke thought he did. Kane’s priorities were always at the top of the list. He had quiet disdain for small-time drug action. The low-level players were easy to take out, but another asshole always popped up.
“I’ll see what I can find out. Be careful, Sean. This woman sounds like a dangerous piece of work.”
“I know exactly what she is,” Sean said. “She’s a monster.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up. Abigail