“Tell Susan it’s all lies. I have to go.” I hang up and open the podcast app.
A new episode was released late last night. How is thatpossible? Peter was in the hospital. He wasn’t seriously injured, so maybe he was released quickly.
I spend the next hour listening to the podcast and searching social media. By the time it’s done, I feel sick. This can’t be real. He can’t say this. It’s all lies. And the things he said about Reed Hawthorne Security. They can’t be true. Can they?
Peter made a lot of connections between Hunter’s company and the cartel. But it’s all circumstantial. It has to be. There is no way the man who has been protecting me all of this time is wrapped up in some criminal enterprise. If he was, he would have turned me over.
My mind races. Peter also claimed that the men of RHS used him to kill Marco unknowingly because they needed him out of the picture. I guess that’s his attempt to get the cartel not to go after him.
I never asked Hunter how Marco found his house. Peter alleges Hunter sent Marco there, knowing both he and Peter were searching for me.
Could Hunter have lured Marco to his house and into this trap?
I rub my temples. No, I’m jumping to conclusions. Hunter wouldn’t do that. His anger toward Agent Myers for doing that was not fake.
Yet, here I am questioning everything. I should call Maria. She’d know, wouldn’t she?
It’s Peter I need to speak to in order to find out if he has any other evidence on this so-called connection. He did imply I was connected, too. He’s seen me with Hunter multiple times and apparently drew conclusions.
The podcast has a website with a contact form. That’s it. There is no other way to contact Peter listed. I fill it out and hope he’ll reach out.
While I wait, I run a search on Hunter, his coworkers, and their security company. There isn’t much information available beyond the last twenty-four hours and the events after Hawthorne’s death.
My phone rings with a number I don’t recognize. Please let it be Peter.
“Hello?”
“Is this Savannah Williams?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me when you first became involved with the cartel?”
I end the call. How did someone get my number?
The phone rings again. This time, I ignore it.
Someone knocks on my door. I peek out to see who it is. On my front steps are two men. One is holding a camera.
“There she is!” He points at me in the window.
I slink back out of view.
After double-checking that my doors and windows are locked, I escape upstairs to my bedroom. This can’t be real.
I check my phone, and I have twenty missed calls and a lot of texts from unknown numbers. At the top is a message from Hunter.
Hunter:I’m heading over.
Knowing he’s coming comforts me. And that tells me what I need to know. There is no way Hunter would knowingly work with the cartel or put me in danger.
In that moment, I curse myself for doubting him. Hunter is a good man. It’s all this craziness that has my thoughts twisted. Maria would have warned me if he wasn’t.
The fact that I even debated it is ridiculous. Hunter and Durango wouldn’t have been watching Bob’s warehouse that night if they knew what was going on.
My phone buzzes again.
Hunter:I’m here.
