Free Operation Power Play by Justine Davis Page B

heard a click, then Rafe’s voice. “No explanation needed.”
    “Thanks. Because my gut’s saying my friend Rick’s in trouble.”
    “Good enough. Give me what you’ve got.”
    He did, and when he’d hung up, he marveled a little at the faith he’d gained in Foxworth in such a short time. And they in him, for that matter.
    Maybe, one day when it all became too much, he might talk to Quinn about making that offer.

Chapter 10
    “W hat are you, living here?” Brett asked, noticing the plate and glass set to one side on an end table. He’d been surprised when Rafe had called him back that same evening, then told himself he’d seen Foxworth in action before—he shouldn’t be surprised that he had news already. He’d loaded up Cutter for the visit and headed out.
    Now Rafe gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “Pretty much. Hayley’s not around to nag me to go home.”
    Brett wondered where home actually was for the man. He had a feeling it was perhaps even less impressive than his own small place. Which in turn was less impressive and not quite as comfortable as the living quarters here at Foxworth. He remembered that Quinn had been living here, before Cutter literally dragged Hayley into his life.
    As if he’d heard his name in Brett’s thoughts, the dog lifted his head. He was almost getting used to it, that uncanny timing the animal had.
    It was a cold, windy, rainy evening, and they’d tacitly agreed the living area in front of the fireplace would do nicely. The laptop open on the table before them chimed an incoming message. Rafe leaned forward and hit a key, held it, then tapped another, and an image popped up on the flat-screen monitor on the wall in the same instant the small webcam above it looking back at them went live. Brett saw a young man, thin, with sandy hair that looked a bit rumpled. He had a small patch of beard below the center of his lower lip. And looked quite awake and alert, given it was two hours later where he was.
    “Have you two met?” Rafer asked.
    “No,” Brett said, “but I assume you’re the famous Tyler Hewitt?”
    The young man grinned. “That’s me. And you’re Detective Dunbar, right?”
    Brett nodded. “You do some impressive work.”
    “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    “That’s how it was meant.”
    “Some cops don’t appreciate some of the things I do.”
    “I appreciate the job getting done and no damage being done in the process.” One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “But I’m probably better off not knowing exactly how you do it.”
    Tyler laughed. “Hey, I like him,” he said, shifting his gaze to Rafe.
    “We all do,” Rafe said quietly. And Brett felt an odd sort of warmth at that. These were good people, the best, and their good opinion meant more to him than he would have ever thought.
    “What did you find out?” Rafe asked.
    “There’s no record of any flight reservation in the name of Rick Alvarado and no charges to any airline on either of his credit cards, at least not in the last three months.”
    “Any uptick in gasoline purchases?” Rafe asked. “Or anything else?”
    “No. No unusual purchases at all, based on the pattern I can see.”
    Yes, he was definitely better off not knowing how Tyler got information that it would often take him a week and a warrant to manage, Brett thought. If he hadn’t trusted Foxworth completely to be on the side of the angels, he’d have had a problem with it. But they’d never put a foot wrong, in his view, and he did trust them. How completely he hadn’t realized until this moment.
    “You want me to check airline manifests?” Tyler asked, as if it were no more complicated than a web search. And perhaps for this guy it wasn’t. But still...
    “No,” he said. That was federal territory he didn’t want to tread on unless he absolutely had to. “Not yet, anyway.”
    “Okay. There’s also no significant activity recently on his checking account. In fact,” Tyler added, “there