“He couldn’t have been less helpful,” Tess said as she and Bender walked back to their cars. “Let’s split this list up. We have to get all these guys interviewed.”

“Agreed.”

Splitting the list gave them each six names. Tess committed the names to memory and pulled up the addresses.

30

Ice checked his watch. They’d been at the gate for ten minutes and he was getting antsy. There was a tense back-and-forth at the shelter’s gate, but Gage stayed cool and kept his marshal ID front and center. Finally the gate swung open and Ice felt himself relax. He was in a go-with-the-flow mode, and a keep-a-sharp-eye-out-for-any-opening level of alert.

“After I park and get out, stand by the car and look official.”

Ice stared at Gage. “I’m not a moron. Just sell the fake order.”

“Oh, I’ll sell it. Once I get the girl, we need to be outta here fast.”

Ice clenched his teeth. He didn’t need Gage acting as if he were some new guy out on his first job.

“Let’s do a sound check,” he said.

They each had earpieces so Ice could hear everything that happened at the door. He put a hand to his ear.

“Check as we kick butt,” Gage whispered.

Ice held a thumb up. “Loud and clear.”

Gage pulled to the front of the shelter, positioning the car in a spot on the circular drive so they could drive straight away and not waste any time when they needed to leave. He grabbed Royal’s sleeve. “You know what to do.”

Ice bit back something snarky. “I sure do.” All he’d have to do was wait and watch. It was all on Gage, really. If it went smoothly for him, then as soon as they had the girl, they’d hop in the car and hit the gas. If things went wrong . . . well, they had the firepower to just take her. If anything unplanned happened, Ice would move in fast and shoot anyone who got in his way.

Gage shoved the car into park but left it running as he opened the driver’s door. Ice climbed out of the car, irritated at the cold rain that was falling, hoping not to be in the elements for long. He took a position at the back door, ready to open it for Chevy, trying to mimic a posture he’d seen cops on TV take. He stood tall, hands clasped in front of him. The Asian woman Royal had seen the other day exited the front door and met Gage on the porch.

Gage greeted her. “Morning, ma’am, do you run this place?”

“No, I’m Agent Takano, FBI.” She held up ID. “What do you mean you’re here for Roberta? I’m waiting for a call back from Agent Bass.”