Page 31 of K-9 Confidential

“You were the one tasked with getting your hands on the explosives.” Hell. Did Henry Acker have no shame? Using his own daughter to commit felonies had kept him out of a federal prison, but at what cost? “If I had any proof of your involvement in the attack on the Alamo pipeline, not just that your blood was found at the scene, I would be forced to arrest you. You would be sentenced to federal prison for the rest of your life. Without parole.”

A hint of fear etched into Charlie’s features.

“Which is still a possibility, Ms. Acker. But considering your cooperation with this investigation, I’m sure I can put in a good word with Homeland Security when this is all over. Until then we’ll assumeSangre por Sangreis in the market for explosives, which means their resources are still dwindling. That could work for us.” Ivy Bardot brought their attention back to her. Time was running out. Whatever the cartel planned depended on Henry Acker, and without the support of Acker’s Army,Sangre por Sangremight jump the gun. “I want eyes on the entire town of Vaughn. Acker might be stuck here, but that doesn’t mean his subordinates aren’t carrying out his orders as we speak. I’ll send two operatives to keep us up-to-date. What about the blueprints you recovered from Acker’s office?”

Granger’s mind was already working through the snippets of handwriting he’d read on the thin paper in Henry Acker’s office. He took out his phone and hit the photos app, bringing up the overhead view of Henry Acker’s desk. “I got a clear photo of the notes, but they’re unreadable. I don’t know what the hell kind of language it’s written is, but I’ve never seen it before.”

He centered his phone between the three of them.

“It’s a code.” Ivy backed away, apparently not willing to waste her time trying to decipher it right then and there. “I’ve seen it before, years ago, but this one has been altered. My partner and I were assigned to a case of a young woman found murdered out in the middle of the desert, and this code was carved into her back. We weren’t able to decipher its meaning before another woman was killed. We had a suspect that turned out to have a connection with an up-and-coming drug cartel calledSangre por Sangre. It was our first interaction with them.”

“You think whoever made these notes might be involved in your original case?” Granger couldn’t convince himself this was nothing more than a coincidence. “Did you make an arrest?”

“We were closing in, but the suspect escaped,” Ivy said. “My partner at the time determined it was unlikely he’d resurface as long as the FBI was on the hunt.”

“So he went undercover in the cartel to find the killer. He’s your source insideSangre por Sangre, the one who gave us the heads up on the cartel’s interest in Charlie.” Socorro’s founder’s past was beginning to make sense, despite her determination to shut everyone out and focus on the one goal they could control. “And given he’s still there, I take it your partner hasn’t found what he’s looking for.”

“Not yet.” Ivy slipped her hands into her slacks, seemingly at ease, but Granger knew better.

There was an added tension at the corner of the woman’s mouth, and he realized Charlie had been right. Learning to read people’s masking behavior under pressure took time and a skill he hadn’t been aware he’d picked up around his superior.

“What about the code? Were you able to decipher its meaning?” A brightness Granger hadn’t expected entered Charlie’s voice. As though this was the lead they’d been waiting for.

“Yes. In the end, our analysts were able to determine the three-letter key that unlocked the entire phrase,” Ivy said. “Unfortunately, it was too late to save another woman from turning up dead.”

“Scarlett is good at this kind of stuff. She might be able to narrow down the key and get us the answers we need.” Granger had already sent the blueprints to So­corro’s security consultant, but the last time he’d checked in, she hadn’t been able to give him an update. “What were the three letters used in your case to unlock the phrase?”

“B, A and P.” Ivy cut her attention back to Henry Acker, who’d slowly gotten to his feet. He was trying to get out of his cuffs. “The letters themselves didn’t produce anything significant, but there was a reason the killer chose them. We were just never able to determine his motive.”

“There’s another option,” Charlie said. “We recovered the blueprints from my father’s office, but the notes aren’t written in his handwriting. If we’re right thatSangre por Sangreis using my father and Acker’s Army in their plan, it means he should be able to read those notes. We can just ask him.”

“The problem is your father isn’t talking.” Granger couldn’t stand the thought of her going back in there to face the fact Acker had lied to Charlie her entire life. And given her exhaustion and injuries, she couldn’t physically interrogate Henry Acker again. “He’s shut down every attempt we’ve made to get the cartel’s plan.”

Movement caught Granger’s attention through the one-way glass, where Henry Acker was currently bending over the table toward his hands. The man reached into his mouth and withdrew a thin rectangular piece of metal. “He’s got a blade!”

Granger maneuvered around Charlie, pulling her out of his way as he charged into the interrogation room. Henry Acker smiled as he brought the blade to his neck and pressed it through the skin of his neck. “Stop them.”

Granger bolted across the table, but it was too late.

Henry Acker fell against the table as his wound pumped blood onto the floor.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The blood was still pooled on the floor.

Charlie couldn’t make herself look away. “I don’t understand. He was…sitting right there. This doesn’t make sense.”

“It happened so fast.” Granger’s voice had lost its sense of control. “I tried to stop him. I’m so sorry, Charlie. I don’t know how it happened.”

She knew. She’d watched the whole thing as though the recording of her life had somehow caught in the VCR she’d grown up with and froze on the single frame of her father ending his life. And she’d just stood there. Unable to move or stop him. In that single moment, her father had ignored the mountain of muscle coming right at him, and he’d looked straight at her.

Stop them.

All this time, all these years, she’d known Henry Acker as a man of conviction. One who’d never given in to threats from law enforcement, who’d never stood down from a fight or showed an ounce of weakness. What had changed?

Dr. Piel zipped the body bag closed over her father’s face as two other Socorro operatives wheeled the remains out on the stretcher. Because that was what he was now. The monster of a man she’d feared would swallow her up and systematically destroy her was nothing but a shell now. Sympathy smoothed the physician’s expression as Dr. Piel followed the team out of the interrogation room. “Charlie, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” A heaviness she couldn’t describe closed in around her. A disconnect between her body and her brain. The events of the past three days were starting to compound. How much more was she expected to take? And why couldn’t she look away from the blood on the floor? “I just…don’t understand.”

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