Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

gleaming black Chevy Avalanche. He missed the hell out of that truck, but he had to get rid of it. Too many eyes were watching for it. He had traded down instead to a dark green 1993 Silverado Crew Cab. It, and a thousand in cash, was what the chop shop guys in Laredo traded him for his baby. But he had to look on the bright side. The Silverado fit in much better down here, until now.
    He started walking down the street and Sydney followed. “Hungry?”
    She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed. “Whatever’s making that smell, I want it.”
    They turned onto the mangled dirt street that bisected the center of the town. Smoke wafted out from a jagged hole in the side of the second-closest building on the left.
    “They’re cooking tamales, another well-known tourist attraction.”
    Sydney sounded out each syllable. “Ta-ma-le?”
    Danny nodded. “Tamales are rolls of cornbread filled with spicy pork and then steamed inside a corn husk.”
    By the reaction on Sydney’s face, Danny could tell that his description needed work. He smiled. “Actually, they’re very good. Two tamales and a cerveza always does the trick. Come on. My treat.”
    “I’m sorry for getting you involved in my problems, Danny.”
    Danny stopped and faced her. “You don’t have to apologize, Sydney. If your theory holds water, then this isn’t just your problem. If America really is on the verge of collapse, it’s my problem, too.”
    “Yes, but your family’s cabin. The guards are probably tearing it to pieces as we speak.”
    Danny knew she was right. They would be looking for anything they could to find out who was helping Sydney. They would find out who owned the place. But could they find out who the previous owner was? If they did, then it wouldn’t take long before they found out about his dad and how his business dealings had been tied in with the monastery. They would find out about his dad’s suicide, too.
    Danny remembered contemplating his choices when he first got to the cabin. It was, in fact, the best place for him to hide. It was out of the country but close enough so that he could investigate the turn of events that had put him on the run. It was a place he knew very well but was no longer tied to his family. Danny had always felt drawn to the cabin because of what his dad had done there. He thought that by being there, he could get some answers as to Dad’s desperation. Was it stress that broke him? Pressure from his business? Danny pictured his parents. They were a happy couple. Didn’t Dad even consider what Mom would …
    Oh God.
    The thought nearly drove him to his knees.
    “Danny.” Sydney gripped his shoulder. “Danny, what is it?”
    “My mom. Those bastards will find out who I am. They’ll find out who my family is. And when they do, they’ll find out where Mom lives.”
    A second later, they were both sprinting for the truck.

Chapter 28
    The monastery’s facade was the only part of it that hadn’t been upgraded over the years since Phoenix Oil practically stole it from the Catholic church. From the installation of indoor plumbing and electricity to outfitting each guest suite with its own bathroom and air-conditioning unit, the monks who built the monastery would have never guessed that their humble building could have been transformed into an opulent resort pulsing with all the modern conveniences.
    Nathan Broederlam was utilizing the most recent upgrade to the building: the satellite Internet connection. It allowed him to access The Group’s secure network and download the encrypted e-mail that contained the urgent message for which he had been waiting.
    The Group had maintained a small administrative support staff of two dozen since its inception. These were lifetime positions, and over the years, staffers only had to be replaced due to death. These staffers had been picked for their expertise in fields such as computer hacking, money laundering, and covert communications. Despite an exhaustive search, the guards found nothing about the American at the cabin. So, Nathan turned to a particular staffer who was an expert in research. It was the same staffer who had given him an impressive dossier on Sydney Dumas before she was invited to join the ICJ. Thanks to The Group, her biological parents were dead. Thanks to Father Time and cancer, her foster parents were also gone. Sydney had no other family members and only a short list of boyfriends whom she grew tired of long before anything