Chapter 79

Beside him was a stocky man, his Native American heritage clear in his features, the hawk nose and high cheekbones. He was shaven-headed, and a black mustache grew down to frame his mouth and blend with a neat goatee. And he glared at the three of us.

“Babe’s been at this fucking computer for the last eighteen hours. If he doesn’t have a break soon, his eyeballs are gonna fall out of his head.” His hand rested on Babineaux’s shoulder.

“Jules, it’s okay. I’m done, babe.” Babineaux leaned into him. He removed his glasses, revealing deep grooves on either side of his nose, and dug his thumb and forefinger into those spots, massaging them. He dropped his hand to caress the fingers that cupped his shoulder. “He’s rented this warehouse, see?” He pointed out the building among those that were pictured on his monitor. “The reason why it was so difficult to find was because he….”