you buy for the entire task force? If so, don’t forget my favorite color is gray.”
“Not black?”
“Too obvious.”
“Something you never are.”
“Exactly.”
“Are we finished?”
Caleb considered the white cotton of his stocking-clad toes for a few seconds, then nodded.
“Yep, sure. We’re finished. What’s up?”
“I’m calling for your status report.”
“Is this how you handle your minions? Formal report requests? This businesslike tone that says, ‘Dude, I’m in charge!’?”
“Is this how you talk to your superiors? With total disregard for authority? Your smart-ass mouth running on fast-forward?”
Caleb wiggled his toes, then nodded. “Yep. Guess that’s why they aren’t crying too hard over me retiring, huh?”
“I have trouble believing you actually think you can retire,” Hunter said, now sounding more like Caleb’s old roommate and beer buddy than an uptight FBI agent. “You’re an adrenaline junky. You might be sick of the streets, but you’re not going to be able to give up the job. Not totally.”
Caleb’s toes weren’t looking so appealing anymore. Tension, as familiar as his own face, shot through his shoulders as he swung his feet to the floor.
“I could get used to not having people shoot at me. I’m thinking I’d like a life spent not dealing with strung-out hookers and South American drug lords with their zombie army of addicts.”
“You’d just let them all go free?”
“I’m not the only guy out there, Hunter. There’re plenty of DEA agents who can bring them down.”
“As good as you?”
“Of course not.”
Neither of them were kidding, Caleb knew. Hunter, because he didn’t know how. And himself, because, well, he
“What’d you call for?” he asked, not willing to keep circling the same useless point he’d already discussed with his boss four times since he’d hit Black Oak for his fake vacation.
“Just what I said. I’m calling for your report.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not a micromanager. If I had something to report, I’d have called you myself. And you know that. So what’s the deal?”
The other man’s hesitation was a physical thing. If he’d been in the room, Caleb knew he’d see the calculation in his old friend’s eyes as he decided the best way to handle the situation. Good ole Hunter, always strategizing.
“Your father has some odd activity going on. A lot of major part orders, hiring a couple guys with dealing records, parties in the shop after hours.”
Stonefaced, Caleb analyzed that info as objectively as possible. Then he shrugged. “It’s the holidays-from what I’ve heard, he has a lot of big holiday orders. He probably needs mechanics to meet them, and isn’t that picky about their backgrounds.”
“He’s dating some hottie in town. She was in your sister’s graduating class.”
Wincing, Caleb hunched his shoulders. Just when he thought his father couldn’t embarrass him anymore…
“So my old man is snacking on a Twinkie. So what?”
“You know sex is one of the prime motivators. Have you checked this woman out?”
“I’m not checking out my father’s old lady.”
In the first place, the idea was gross. In the second, it would up the chances that he’d actually have to speak with his father. In the week he’d been in town, he’d managed to duck the guy’s calls and avoid actually being in the same breathing space. He was calling it deep undercover. So deep, he wasn’t even coming into contact with the suspect.
“She’s the stepdaughter of a known South American dealer. She’s reputed to be estranged from her family, but the connection can’t be ignored.”
“Lilah Gomez?”
God, this was like some twisted soap opera. Striding over to the window, Caleb shoved his hand through his hair. This day had started out so nice. Incredible sex, a woman who filled his head with crazy thoughts of tomorrow and, dammit, relaxing in his stocking feet.
“You know her?”
He wasn’t about to admit that after that first day when he hadn’t recognized her, she’d gone on to hit on him three more times since he’d come to town. He grimaced. Especially since that he didn’t know if her thing with his father was new or not.
“She and my sister were tight growing up. They hung out, had sleepovers, that kind of thing. Then Lilah went over to the wild side, and she and Maya went their separate ways.”
Caleb waited, but Hunter didn’t say anything about Lilah’s current sleepover choices. And that, friends, was why he was still Caleb’s best buddy.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Hunter said instead.
Staring out the window at the frosty cold coating the bare tree branches, Caleb grunted.
“I’d hoped you’d find someone else. Another suspect or connection.”
“Even if my old man’s acting like a hound dog, there’s still nothing to tie him to this,” Caleb argued.
“There’s nothing to point the finger in any other direction,” Hunter rebutted. “Is there?”
Caleb sighed. “The case is moving slow. I’ve been connecting my way up the food chain. I’m cozying up to one of the midlevel dealers. He knows names, clearly has the inside track. But he’s not sharing. Yet.”
“Any hint about who’s on top?”
Caleb grimaced. “These guys are cocky, sure they are untouchable. So it’s someone with pull. Someone who can influence the law.”
He waited, but again, Hunter didn’t take the obvious opening. Gotta love the guy.
“I saw one of the couriers last night from a distance. He’s familiar. As soon as I figure out where I’ve seen him before, I’ll have the break we need.”
“You’ve seen him on another case?”
Caleb thought back to the brown shaggy hair, all he’d been able to identify from two blocks away. “No, he’s local. I’ll do the rounds again, figure it out.”
“Good job,” Hunter said. “In the meantime, I have a remote, wildly impossible thread that if tugged could disintegrate instantly.”
“Sounds promising.”
He could handle delicate. Hell, if it meant keeping his old man out of jail, he could handle delicate while juggling porcelain and wearing roller skates.
“Intel shows that a new citizen to Black Oak has some connections. A relationship with a pharmacist busted for a prescription scam. She was implicated but skated.”
“So why are you grudging after my old man? Why aren’t you pounding on her door instead?”
“In the first place, it’s not a grudge. Your old man has a record longer than I am tall.”
“A record of suspicions. No convictions.”
“Minor detail.”
“Major legality.”
“Whatever,” Hunter dismissed. “And in the second place, while there is enough here to warrant a first glance, it’s pretty much a waste of a second look. Other than this one relationship, the woman has a spotless rep. No record, no connections, no history to support drug suspicions.”
“Once is all it takes.” Especially if that once was the hook he needed to prove his old man’s innocence. Just because he had issues with his upbringing, a lack of respect for his father’s choices and a whole lot of pent-up anger toward the past, that didn’t mean he wanted the old man in jail.
“Look, give me the name and I’ll look into it,” he told Hunter.
