Page 46 of Desperate Creed

“Okay.”

“I can track Tyler Gates’ phone.”

“We already know where he was before he got shot. Frankie said he was at Deacon Kaye’s apartment.”

“No, no. Not where he’s been. I’m able to track the phone since it got taken.”

It took her a few seconds to realize what he was saying.

“Okay,” she said, waiting for more.

“Remember I told you the killers may have stolen the phone because it would be a treasure trove of information? They’d have access to Gates’ emails, his texts, contacts, all of his accounts especially social media, subscription services, any apps he had downloaded.”

“Okay, but would they keep the phone turned on? It’s harder to track it if they’ve shut it off.”

“True. But they didn’t shut it down, and why would they? If they shut it down they’d need to figure out what his passcode was to turn it back on. Why go to that extra trouble when they could just keep it on? Charge the battery every now and then.”

“Unless you can tell me exactly where these guys live in Chicago, I’m not sure how tracking them helps us,” she told Alonzo as she slathered cream cheese on her bagel.

“Except they’re not in Chicago.”

“Again, if we don’t have an address—”

“Maggie, listen to me for a minute. I can’t give you an exact address, but I can narrow it down to one of two hotels that are across the street from each other. Listen carefully, across from each other in Brentwood, Tennessee.”

“Brentwood?”

“It’s a suburb of Nashville. Just off Interstate 65.”

She placed her knife on the edge of the plate and sat back. Took a deep breath, because she felt like she’d just had the air knocked out of her.

“They’re still following her,” she said. “How is that possible? They have his phone, not hers.”

“My best guess? They were able to use his email to gain access to hers.”

“That’s possible?”

Alonzo laughed, a genuine full-throated laugh that had Maggie tapping her earbud to reduce the volume. The café was getting crowded with a wave of passengers. Her eyes scanned the new faces coming into the café while her mind raced.

This was much bigger than she expected. More serious than she realized. And with Assistant Director Kunze involved? No way could she tell him what she was doing. But what about Frankie Russo? She needed to alert the woman. Tell her she was right. She was being followed.

Maggie glanced at her watch. Russo had to already be on the road.

Then her stomach took a nosedive.

Maybe they’d already killed her.

“Sorry Maggie,” Alonzo finally said, and she couldn’t even remember what he was apologizing for.

“Too little sleep,” he continued, “and too much caffeine. To answer your question, yes, it’s possible. If they tapped into her email account they may have seen a hotel confirmation. Even if she paid in cash, the hotel probably asked for her email for that purpose or to send a receipt. Most people aren’t going to have a problem with it. We give out our email addresses as easily as we do our phone numbers. Ms. Russo probably wouldn’t think twice about it.”

He paused. When he came back on his voice was lower, “I have to tell you, if that’s what happened, this is a level of sophistication that goes beyond Tyler Gates and Deacon Kaye hacking into a corporation’s internal email system. These killers are not a couple of thugs. They’re definitely professionals.”

“Do you think they already took care of her?” Maggie asked.

Now Alonzo went quiet. The silence lasted so long she knew he hadn’t thought about that.

“Truthfully? I don’t know. But then that’s your area of expertise.”