“You’re her family.”

“Yeah, but it’s just how she’s wired if she cares about you. Trust me, man, when shit’s hitting the fan, there’s no one you’d rather have at your six than Zoe.”

Parker thought about that conversation long after he’d washed up from the plumbing work and sat at the kitchen table with his laptop studying maps of the Rocky Falls area where Zoe had pointed out Cat’s Paw. Like him, she was a survivor and a caretaker. She’d do anything for her siblings.

Just as he would for his sister. He sent money back for Amory’s care every month, but he knew the best thing he did for her was stay away.

After hearing Wyatt talk about Zoe, he couldn’t imagine anything keeping her from being near her siblings. But then again, she didn’t have a job where she chased after bad guys willing to sell their own mother for a buck.

He tried to concentrate on the map in front of him, but he was good at multitasking and a good portion of his thoughts stayed on Zoe.

Watching her fly had been a huge turn-on. She’d handled the plane like it had been an extension of herself, and he’d had trouble concentrating on his business when what he’d really wanted to do was join the mile-high club. Never mind that doing so with his pilot would’ve gotten them killed.

When he’d gone back up with Devon, he’d gotten a better feel for the area. This was more a reflection on the fact that Parker hadn’t wanted to strip Devon naked and lick him from head to toe as he had Zoe.

He’d saved a lot of time by asking Devon to go directly to Cat’s Paw, where he got a longer look at the vehicles in that mysterious clearing. With his high-powered binoculars, Parker had focused in on several additional fascinating facts. One, he could see two huge blinds, way too big for traditional hunting. More like the size that could be hiding vehicles that someone didn’t want seen.

This was proven when he watched a tank being driven into one.

A tank.

In the woods.

And then a Humvee, filled with guys armed to the teeth.

A huge red flag to say the least.

And two, there’d also been a Humvee four-wheeling through the trees toward some low-lying buildings he’d missed the first time because they’d been as carefully camouflaged as the blinds.

And then there were the weapons. The kind that weren’t necessarily for hunting animals—at least not the four-legged kind.

When he’d asked Devon to make a second pass, the pilot had refused, citing two reasons. One, he’d been booked for a direct there-and-back and he didn’t want to tap into his reserve fuel. And two, apparently there were rumors circulating of militia taking over the property and he didn’t want to draw any trouble by bringing attention to himself or the plane.

Militia.

Made sense. And if that was the case, Parker hoped like hell that if anyone down there was paying attention to aircraft in the area, they’d missed Zoe earlier.

Staring at the map now, Parker shook his head. What the hell was going on? He had some ideas and didn’t like any of them. One was a niggling suspicion that he’d had for some time now, that a deal had been struck with Carver for his freedom. Pulling out his phone, Parker called Mick.

His informant answered with a gruff “What the hell do you want?”

“Answers,” Parker said.

There was a pause. “I already gave you a shit-ton more than I should have.”

“Which wasn’t all that much.”

“I gave you all I had.”

“Now see,” Parker said. “I doubt that.”

“Ah, man, come on,” Mick whined. “You know I can’t talk to you no more if I want to keep breathing.”

“Tell me enough to catch the Butcher and you have nothing to fear,” Parker countered.

“Jesus, you’re killing me. Did you go to the Rocky Falls area? Cat’s Paw?”

“Yes,” Parker said. “And why Cat’s Paw? Only locals know about that place.”

“Carver grew up there. He’s still got connections.”

“There’s nothing there,” Parker said. “Except a possible militia hideout.”

“Yeah, his brother’s militia,” Mick said. “And that asshole’s as mean as Carver.”

Parker felt his temper stir. “And you left all this out before because . . .?”

“Because you didn’t ask.”

“Or because you were trying to fuck up the investigation,” Parker said. “A federal crime, by the way.”

“No, I wasn’t trying to fuck you up, I swear!”

“Or maybe you were trying to get me killed.”

“No! Man, you’re touchy. It’s nothing like that,” Mick rushed to assure him.

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is like.”

“You asked and I told you, he’s there in Idaho. It got too hot with you guys, specifically you, so he went home to hide out until things cooled off. He knows that entire area inside and out. And it’s a great place to lay low because it’s tough to get to and nearly impossible to sneak up on him. Plus, having grown up on that mountain, he’s got friends and relatives who’ll protect him to the end.”

“By friends and relatives, you mean the people he’s now using as a screen for protection?” Parker asked.

“Well, it’s not like they’re innocents,” Mick said. “His family tree belongs on the walls of post offices and cop shops across the country, if you know what I’m saying.”

“What else am I missing?” Parker asked.

“Nothing! Now do me a favor and lose my number.”

Parker disconnected. Then he called his only other contact in the area besides Wyatt. Kel was a local sheriff and a good one. If anyone knew anything about this, it would be Kel.

“Been a long time,” the sheriff said when he answered. “You’ve been busy, I hear.”

Law enforcement, all divisions and agencies, were like the quad at any high school. Filled with gossip. “Little bit,” Parker said. “And you?”

“I’m thinking you didn’t call to chitchat.”

Directness. Parker appreciated it. “I need to know what’s going on up at Rocky Falls.”

“Why?”

Fair enough question. “A few years ago we arrested what we thought was a small onetime-operation kind of guy for endangered species poaching. He worked the Pacific Northwest, selling skins and other illegal items to a bigger organization. Small fries, but we wanted the bigger cartel so we cut him loose under certain terms.”

“Certain terms,” Kel repeated. “You recruited him as an informant.”

“To help us catch his former boss, Tripp Carver, also known as the Butcher.”

“The guy who killed one of your agents,” Kel said.

“Yeah, and now we’ve got rumors of four point five million dollars in skins and ivory being readied for sale.”

“And you think this Carver is in Rocky Falls with the goods?”

“Specifically at Cat’s Paw.”

There was a beat of silence. “Thought you were on medical leave,” Kel finally said.

Parker pleaded the fifth, and Kel laughed softly. “Okay, so that’s not going to slow you down, I get it. You got anything more than rumors?”