“Why would your guy tell you about this, unless he knows we have a connection to the school?”

“He doesn’t know anything. I think he was trying to prove he keeps his eyes open, has contacts in Mexico, and would be an asset to our organization.”

Possible.

“Why was he at the school?”

“Family business. He was paying his brother-in-law a visit. Dude by the name of Eduardo Garcia. You know him?”

“I know who he is.” Wolf inspected a cracked tile above the sink. “Why am I just now learning about your man’s connection to the school?”

“I didn’t know about it either until this morning. His link to the school was a lucky break for us.”

Wolf frowned.

If that was true, why was his anxiety meter rising?

“How did your guy get Martinez’s photo?”

“He didn’t. He asked his brother-in-law to take it.”

That didn’t fit with his impression of Garcia. Near as he could tell, the man was a straight arrow.

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Family loyalty, maybe. My guy lives with his sister and her husband.”

“What explanation did he give Garcia for wanting the photo?”

“I didn’t ask, he didn’t say. I got the feeling he and his sister’s husband don’t always see eye to eye and have limited contact.”

Making Garcia’s cooperation even more suspect.

The band of tension around his midsection tightened.

“Don’t let anything slip about our association with the school.”

“Goes without saying. What are we going to do about Martinez?”

“Nothing yet.”

“But if he knows we have a connection to the school, he may also know who we are.”

“No.” Wolf’s brain shifted into analytical mode. “If he did, his agency would have shut us down and we’d be under arrest. They’re waiting to see if they can identify the major players.”

“So what do we do? We have a shipment coming soon—and no other location set up to receive it.”

Wolf cracked the door to the hall.

Still clear.

“Let me think about this and call you back.”

“Should we get rid of Martinez?”

“To what end? That would tip them off we’re onto their investigation. We’re one step ahead of them at this point. Let’s keep it that way.” He peered through the crack in the door again. Traffic in the hall had picked up. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch soon.”

He repocketed the phone. Filled his lungs.

For years he’d been able to stay under the radar with careful planning and a well-orchestrated cover. It had been an incredible run of good luck.

But fortune was fickle—and luck always ran out. That’s why you had to stay alert. Tune in to signs fate was beginning to turn against you.