“I’ll do it. Cate’s boss is my next call.” He pulled out a notebook. “Ready.” He jotted down the information as the man recited it. “Thanks.”

Three seconds later, he punched in the sergeant’s number.

He too answered on the first ring.

After a brief introduction, Zeke got straight to the point. “Has anyone from County heard from Cate?”

“She called to give us the Starbucks location after they arrived. That was her last contact.”

“As of five minutes ago, her phone is going straight to voicemail.”

A beat of silence passed.

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I. I also have information on the cab and driver—not that you’ll need it, since Cate called with her location. But here it is anyway.” He passed it on.

“Thanks.”

“Can someone keep me in the loop? Cate and I have been briefing each other on developments in our cases during our undercover assignments, and I’d like to stay current with her situation.”

“Sure. We’ll call if we have any news.”

“Thanks.”

Zeke pressed the end button and peered at Eduardo’s house through the flakes of snow. Lights continued to shine from behind the shuttered windows, and at last report all three occupants were home—as they would likely be all evening.

Based on the conversation Eduardo had overheard, Hernandez appeared to have fallen from grace with the ring after his attempt on a federal agent’s life. It was doubtful he’d go anywhere until the DEA knocked on the door in the early hours of the morning and took him in for questioning.

Zeke flipped up the collar of his coat as his breath formed a cloud of vapor in front of his face. Tried to tamp down his frustration.

Instead of sitting here idly while the hours to the takedown ticked by, he could be pitching in on the search for Cate. Helping track down people who may have seen her at Starbucks. Who could describe the man Kayla had met. Or who had overheard a telling snippet of conversation. And if Cate and Kayla had left, perhaps someone had spotted the vehicle and could provide a make and model . . . or part of the license plate.

He twisted the key in the ignition and cranked the heat up to take the chill off the car. In this weather, he’d have to do that every ten or fifteen minutes to avoid frostbite and hypothermia.

Despite the surge of warmth from the vents, though, he remained chilled to the core.

And only one thing was going to change that.

News that Cate was safe and unhurt.

Until then, all he could do was sit tight—and pray hard.

25

TURN LEFT IN FIFTY YARDS, CATE.”