Page 50 of Her Reluctant Hero
“I saw the waitress from last night.”
As if that answered everything. “In the restroom?”
“Yeah, and I asked her about Santiago. Only he’s not going by that name.”
Okay. Just maybe Isabella had stumbled onto something they didn’t know. He glanced back toward the bathroom.
“You ready to go then?”
She turned her gaze back toward the club and bit the inside of her lower lip. “Yeah, I guess there’s nothing else we can do here,” she said with a sigh.
“You have that waitress’s name?”
She turned back to him with a frown. “Of course.”
He nodded toward the door, dropping his hand to her waist, glad to be in control of the situation again. “Let’s go, then.”
They slipped out the door—dozens of people were queued up to get in—and headed for his truck. All the time he kept one eye on her and another on the crowd. Isabella made a beeline for the passenger door, but he caught her hand, pulling her against him while he scanned the area to see if anyone was behind them.
She scowled. “I wonder if you’ll ever do that because you want to.”
She broke away, but he’d had enough time to be satisfied they weren’t followed.
That was the only thing he was satisfied about.
“What name did you get?” he asked, once they were safely on the road back to the hotel, tail free.
“Guillermo Morales. Georgia said he used a credit card with that name.”
He could hear the excitement, the sense of accomplishment in her voice. “She’s sure it’s the same guy? Doesn’t seem to me he’d be dumb enough to use a credit card, you know?”
“I thought so too, but she was very clear about his description. Late forties, heavy accent, light eyes.”
Alex shook his head. “Seems that could apply to a lot of guys in this city. What was the name again?” He fished his phone out of his front pocket as he maneuvered through traffic, flipped it open and dialed with his thumb. He glanced over at her as he lifted the phone to his ear. “She was sure?”
She nodded and reached down to slide off her shoes.
“Yeah, it’s Shepard,” he said when Agent O’Malley answered. “We need to know if Guillermo Morales is one of Saldana’s aliases.”
“Where did you get that name?” O’Malley asked.
“We went back to the nightclub to see if Isabella could see him again, maybe draw him out.”
“You got this name how?”
Alex told him, heard typing through the phone.
“No.” Surprise laced O’Malley’s voice. “We don’t have that as an alias. This waitress, she seemed dependable?”
“Isabella said she was.” He glanced over at Isabella, who was watching, ready to jump out of her skin. “Her name was Georgia…” He trailed off, motioning for Isabella to supply the rest of the name.
“Brady.”
He repeated the name into the phone.
“We’ll pick her up, run this guy’s cards, see where he’s been,” O’Malley said, but no excitement infused his voice. He wasn’t expecting much to come of this, Alex could tell. That, he wouldn’t pass on to Isabella.
“You’ll let us know what you find out.”
