this about?”
“Cohort,” Emiliano murmured.
Although he was the investigator, she knew they couldn’t dismiss the cyberattack in Dallas and the attack on Ace a few hours later as coincidence.
“They’re a hacktivist group,” Marie explained. “They attacked Colton, Incorporated, this morning. They breached the database and stole a great deal of private information on our employees.” And posted a reward for her capture or death. Although she was here, it was still too bizarre for her to say it aloud.
“Huh.” Ace’s gaze moved slowly from Marie to Emiliano and back. “Why would they come out here looking for you?” he asked her.
“They wouldn’t,” Emiliano snapped. “The decision to bring Marie here for her protection was only made hours ago.”
She bit her lip to hide the nervous trembling and followed his gaze as he stared at the needle mark on Ace’s neck. Had this man been hurt because the Cohort was after her? The thought made her stomach pitch.
Emiliano stood up and drew his gun. “I need to check the drug inventory at Mom’s office.”
Marie almost told him to be careful, but this was his property, his job. She was certain he knew how to handle himself.
“You two wait here,” he said. “I’ll set the alarm system behind me.” He looked at the dogs. “Scrabble, stay. Gordo, come.” Scrabble sat up a little straighter between Ace’s boots. Gordo lumbered to his feet and followed Emiliano. “We’ll be back before Dr. Ramirez arrives.”
Marie turned to Ace. “More water?”
“I’d rather have coffee,” he said, in a hopeful tone.
She wasn’t sure that was smart. “I’ll brew some for you if the doctor says it’s okay.”
“Fine.” Ace sighed and sat back. “You can tell me what a CDO does while we wait.”
She would certainly do her best to keep him distracted.
* * *
As Emiliano jogged up the drive, he added up the various factors without any comfort in the preliminary solutions. His FBI career was no more a secret than his parents’ vacation. Why would the Cohort come here? And if they could strike down Ace on Ortega property, was there any place where he could possibly hope to keep Marie safe?
At the fork where the gravel driveway split off toward the vet offices, he saw Ace was right. Someone had taken the turn too quickly. Near the office itself, he found skid marks where someone had pulled to a stop and left again in a hurry. He took a few pictures, though he’d have to take more in the better light of morning. At the office door, he took pictures of the broken lock. He would review the security system video after he checked the inventory. To drop a man as big and tough as Ace, the attacker likely went for xylazine, one of the tranquilizers his mother used in her equine practice. Like all reputable vets, Natalia Ortega kept careful records of the controlled substances. She used computer logs as well as a handwritten chart on a clipboard near the cabinet to track when each patient received what kind of dosage and why.
Sure enough, the locked cabinet had been busted off its hinges and two vials of xylazine were missing. Emiliano swore. It was a safe bet she was short a box of syringes, as well. A quick search confirmed that. He noted the signs of a brief struggle. Ace was tall, strong and wily. How had he seen the thief’s masked face and still been overpowered?
On hands and knees, he found a syringe under the desk with a few milliliters of fluid in the barrel. His mother didn’t keep controlled substances predrawn, which meant there had to have been two people here, one fighting Ace and another to prepare the drug. Emiliano pulled on exam gloves and dropped the syringe into a plastic bag, hoping to preserve any fingerprints.
At the security system panel, he checked the time of the alarm that had brought his ranch manager into range of the thieves. He and Marie had just gotten on the road out of Dallas when Ace was attacked here. Did that mean the incidents were connected or coincidence? He pulled out his phone to send a text message to his boss and changed his mind. Better to get more facts together. He could share this development on the team video conference scheduled for tomorrow.
Emiliano tucked his phone away. Knowing his mother’s security codes, he moved the remainder of her controlled substances into a cabinet that locked properly. He was going to have to open a Food and Drug Administration report on her behalf, as well. With luck, being an FBI agent would make that process run a bit smoother.
He should probably call her, but he didn’t want to interrupt their holiday cruise. It was the first big vacation they’d taken in years. The least he could do was handle things in their absence. Satisfied the meds were secure, he managed to get the door to stay closed with the dead bolt so he could reset the alarm. Tomorrow, he could make a decision about repairing or replacing the door.
He returned to the house just as Dr. Ramirez’s sedan turned into the driveway. He and Gordo waited for the older man to climb out of the car with his bag. Together the two men and the scruffy dog walked inside, where Marie and Ace were chatting like old friends in the great room.
Emiliano opened his mouth to make introductions and stopped short. Scrabble hadn’t met him at the door. She was sitting on Marie’s lap in one of the leather armchairs, her canine grin expressing delight and pride in finding a new friend.
Huh. His dog was an excellent judge of character. It was uncharacteristic for her to become so friendly with anyone so fast, especially in light of Marie’s inexperience with animals. Having her take that relaxed, affectionate stance toward a woman he hadn’t completely removed from the suspect column made him reconsider Marie’s position within the investigation.
“Who’s the patient?” Ramirez asked. “You both look well enough to me.”
“Ace is the patient,” Marie said, gently stroking Scrabble’s long back when the dog refused to relinquish her place.
Emiliano explained how and where they’d found Ace and the missing supplies from the vet office. Ace chimed in with what he remembered of the incident. “I’d appreciate you keeping this quiet,” Emiliano said when the basics were complete.
“Assumed as much.” Ramirez’s thick salt-and-pepper eyebrows knit into a frown. He took blood and urine samples to verify the suspected xylazine and, after some additional evaluation, told them Ace had a mild concussion and would recover with a few days’ rest.
“You’ll be here, Emiliano?” the doctor asked, packing up his bag.
“Yes.” This time of year the ranch ran on a skeleton crew so everyone had more time with family, although they would all pitch in and make sure Ace had enough help.
“Good.” He snapped his bag closed and tucked his glasses into his shirt pocket. “I’m counting on you to be sure he doesn’t overdo it or the recovery will take twice as long.” He aimed a meaningful look at Ace. “I mean it.”
“I heard you,” Ace said.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Meyers,” Dr. Ramirez said. “Enjoy your time in Shadow Creek.”
Emiliano walked the doctor back to his car. “Ace had to be out for close to four hours,” he said.
“I did the math,” the doctor agreed. He unlocked the car and set his bag on the passenger seat. “That works in his favor in this case.”
“How so?”
“Because being unconscious, his body was able to purge the drug without as much of a fight,” Ramirez explained. “Once I have these labs back, I’ll know if he needs more attention. In the meantime, water and rest will do him the most good. If he were in real trouble, it would be obvious in his breathing and heart rate.”
It was small comfort, but he’d take it. “Do you think his assailants dragged him to the door?”
Ramirez chuckled. “Knowing Ace,