“So what happened? Wait, let me guess. The bastard was slick enough to make himself a sweet deal.”
“Jackpot,” Kel said. “He remains free as long as he helps the FBI indict a large slice of the evasive militia group he funded, most of whom are wanted for a multitude of other crimes as well. The problem has been that Carver makes new deals, promises that are always juicier than the current evidence.”
“So he keeps getting an extension on his lucrative deal,” Parker said. “Fucking unbelievable.”
“It gets worse,” Kel said. “Every time he gets into trouble—like he did with your agency—the FBI has no choice but to step in and bail his sorry ass out of the sling or they lose their ground.”
“Perfect setup for an asshole like Carver,” Parker said, impressed in spite of himself. “He’s got us over a barrel and knows it. And he’s extended his base of operations from illegal antiquities to funding the militia, so now what?”
“The FBI and the ATF are in way too deep to back out,” Kel said. “Everyone thinks they’re in control, but it’s a political and red-tape nightmare, leaving Carver as the only winner. There are piles of charges that the FBI keeps promising all the other agencies that they’ll get to pursue, but they’re being strung along just as Carver is stringing them along.”
“So what’s his endgame?” Parker asked.
“Anyone’s guess,” Kel said.
Yeah, well, Parker intended to find out.
Zoe got up early, ready for her day. Or so she told herself. She’d had a flight scheduled, but according to a text from Joe, it had been moved to another day. He said the Caravan should be fixed this morning and needed a test flight. He’d put it up for sale and had an interested buyer up north that he wanted her to go show the plane to after the test.
She would miss the Caravan, but she’d do just about anything to keep her mind off Parker and all that they were no longer going to be doing together. Her eyes on her phone, she headed out of her room and . . . right into Parker.
He’d come out of the bathroom, hair wet, body damp, one of her towels wrapped indecently low on his hips.
Damn. Looking that sexy should be completely illegal. She nearly said I want to recant my statement, the one where I said to stay at least nine inches away from me. I spoke too hastily. Instead she said, “Sorry! I need to learn to walk and read my phone at the same time.”
“You can get a ticket for that these days,” he said.
She laughed, relieved that they were going to be grownups about this. It was a huge effort not to step close and run her finger over the cut on his forehead and demand to see his leg, but she managed by shoving her hands into her pockets. “So, where are you off to this early? More . . . sightseeing?”
“Yes, actually.” He met her gaze. “I’m going up to Rocky Falls.”
Her own hair was wet, too, still in a ponytail. She could almost feel his hand curl around the back of her neck, wrapping the strands of her hair up in his fingers as he slowly deepened their kiss. She had to shake the memory off. “Your cameras not working?”
“Saw something that I didn’t like,” he said.
“But aren’t the good guys watching, too?”
“Yes, but as long as Carver feeds them the intel they want, they’re happy.”
“And you’re worried that happy equals complacent or sloppy?” she asked.
“Exactly. Carver’s cagey as hell. He’s a master at vanishing like smoke.”
She marveled at his courage, at the strength of character it took to put what was right ahead of what was easy, even if it meant risking his job. Zoe’s job meant everything to her—flying meant everything, and she wondered if she could put the right to do that on the line and be willing to walk away from it if she had to.
But that was just it; she’d never have to. It wasn’t her job to make those kinds of decisions. It was Parker’s, and she was beginning to understand what he had at stake.
Everything.