“Would you know anything about a stolen military truck filled with guns?” Sienna persisted.
“No, ma’am,” he said a little too quickly.
A.J. put his hand on Sienna’s arm. She was frustrated and knew as well as he did that this guy wasn’t telling them everything he knew. But badgering him wasn’t going to help the case.
“David’s an upstanding guy. He would want to do the right thing.” The man had spoken out of turn, and for a moment A.J. saw something flash across his eyes.
“Thank you for your help,” he said and weathered Sienna’s glare as he dismissed the Marine. He and Sienna left the room and exited the building. But when they reached A.J.’s car, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
“He’s holding back. Everyone we talked to today was tap-dancing. I saw it in their faces.” Her face was flushed with fury. “I hate being sandbagged.”
“I know,” he growled.
“Why didn’t you let me interrogate Gibson some more? You ended that interview too soon. I told you I call the shots.”
“Something’s going on between Gibson and David, but at this point we don’t know what it is or if it has anything to do with those stolen weapons.”
“I can’t find out if you won’t let me do my job.”
“Let me question Gibson alone.”
“You are not running this investigation, Camacho.” Ice sheathed that husky voice.
“I’m well aware of that, but I’m the Navy liaison. I know that Marine would rather face a firing squad than rat out his partner. Trust me on this?” Catching her hand, A.J. closed his fist around it. So much heat and energy in that one small hand radiated into him.
“Trust? You think I don’t trust you?”
“I think you have it in the back of your mind that I’m David’s brother and I want to keep him safe.”
“You do. Don’t deny it.”
“I’m not, but I promised you that I would be objective.”
“Yes, you did, and I see your point. I know all about protecting your partner and I understand Gibson’s reluctance to get Buckner in trouble,” she said, taking a determined step away from him.
A.J. shifted, blocking her, not sure if he had the trust he suddenly wanted from her. Halting her quick shift away from him, he gripped her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
For a moment she gazed up into his eyes. “Yes.”
The simple answer hit him hard in the heart. It was something special to gain this woman’s trust.
But although he went back inside to talk to Gibson, he had already gone off shift.
A.J. got his address from the receptionist, but there was no answer at Gibson’s house.
When A.J. got back in the car, Sienna said, “I could put out an APB on Gibson.”
“No,” A.J. insisted, “getting hauled in by the police will only make him clam up more. I’ll track him down.”
* * *
The day had passed, and they were still no closer to finding David than they’d been that morning. The good news was that the crime scene investigation of the military truck revealed no blood on either the window shards or the seat. Yet, even with that encouraging news, A.J. couldn’t seem to relax.
He paced in front of Sienna’s desk while she handled a few details for another case. Several detectives eyed him warily.
A.J. rolled his shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. Sienna finished her conversation and hung up the phone. She rubbed at the back of her neck.
“A.J., let’s get out of here and blow off some steam.”