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The Watkins County Sheriff’s Department was in sight when Luther heard D’Antonio’s cell phone go off like a pinball machine in the backseat. A jackknifed tractor and trailer blocking the highway had slowed them down (no injuries, but damn scary to look at), and they were arriving at least forty minutes later than they’d expected.
“s**t,” the agent said. “Four voicemail messages. Next time I’ll remember to bring a sat phone. How do you people function out here?”
“Texts work better than phone calls,” Grant said, looking down at his own phone as it chirped to life. “In theory.”
The Sheriff’s Department was supposed to be a staging area for everyone involved, so Luther was surprised there weren’t more vehicles in the parking lot. He had a bad feeling… He looked in the rearview mirror at
