"I can't argue with that. My legs are still weak."
The smile grew and I knew we were good again. Whenever we fought, Parker was always looking for a reason not to be mad and all I'd had to do was give him one.
"It's almost four," I said, nodding toward the entrance to The Strike Zone. "Shall we hit the lanes?"
"Anytime you're ready. But be warned: if he tries anything, I will hurt him. I hope you're okay with that."
"I don't expect you to kiss him."
I reached to the seat beside me and picked up a manila envelope. I hadn't bothered to contact Ethan's forger—why would I?—but I couldn't walk in there with nothing in hand. So I'd stuffed an old, dog-eared paperback romance inside to give the envelope some heft.
Popping open my door, I said, "See you inside," then climbed out and crossed the lot to the bowling alley entrance. As I approached, the glass doors opened and a couple of cowboys ambled out, giving me the once over as they passed.
"Well, what do you know," one said to the other. "There's something on the menu looks even better than the chili. Bet she tastes better, too."
They both laughed, wink wink, nudge nudge, and I hoped Parker hadn't heard the comment because he'd surely have to teach them a lesson in respect and we couldn't afford the delay.
When I got inside, I was surprised to see that the lanes were full. Who would've thought that four a.m. bowling was a thing. Especially in Texas.
The thunder of the balls hitting polished pine and the clatter of the pins was almost deafening. I was immediately transported back to Orlando and the romance of that long ago summer.
Which was exactly what Ethan wanted. He was a master manipulator, no doubt about it.
I looked over at the service counter and remembered the giddy, unbridled happiness I felt whenever I walked through the doors of the Orange Bowl and saw him waiting on customers. When they weren't looking, he'd often turn to me and roll those brown eyes and we'd share a silent laugh.
I couldn't believe how funny he was. And cute, of course. So freaking cute.
Standing behind this service counter was a woman in her seventies who looked spry and feisty and happy to still be working at her age. I hoped I was looking at me in a few dozen years. Living your life as a sourpuss does nobody any good.
There was a bulletin board to my right with flyers for upcoming tournaments and want ads and bowling balls for sale. I stopped and pretended to read it until I saw Parker in the periphery of my eye, then felt him pass behind me and head straight to the service counter. I knew he was carrying a bowling bag and doing his best to blend in.
I turned then and scanned the room for Ethan, but saw no sign of him.
Had he decided not to show up?
Maybe he'd reconsidered his decision to trust me and found his own way out of his mess. It would certainly be the smart thing to do, considering what was about to happen.
I scanned the room again, slowly this time, letting my gaze drift past Parker, who was now laughing with the counter woman as if they were old friends. But unless Ethan was hiding in the bathroom or under a bench, he was not there.
So where was he?
I found out a few milliseconds later when I felt a presence behind me. Heat emanated off a body that was much too close to be a stranger—unless that stranger was a complete perv.
I turned sharply and he was standing there, wearing a fresh shirt and a devilish smile. For someone who was on the run he had cleaned up pretty good.
He said, "So how much do you hate me right now?"
"So much that I'm aiding and abetting a fugitive and risking the destruction of a brand new relationship."
"The boy toy? That won't last anyway."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because you're here with me instead of at home with him."
I shrugged. "I guess that's true."
"Plus, you aren't open and honest with him like you always were with me. I'll bet you didn't even tell him why I call you Pooks."
I frowned. "Do you really think that's information he needs?"
"If it were me, I'd want to know everything. The good, the bad and the ugly—although ugly isn't a word I'd associate with you. Far from it."
"Such flattery," I said. "Remind me again why I agreed to help you?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
"I'm not sure, either, Ethan. Maybe it's because you're very good at what you do. Like asking to meet me here, when you know how much that summer meant to me."
He looked around. "It does bring back memories, doesn't it? Like that time in the janitor's closet when you—"
"Stop right now or I'll leave and take this passport with me."
"I wouldn't want you to do that. In fact, I was hoping for more than a passport."
I showed him the envelope. "All the documents are here."
"No, what I meant was you. I was hoping you'd come with me."
I looked at him for what seemed a very long time, wondering if he was a couple pins short of a full rack.
He wasn't serious, was he?
"You can't possibly mean that."
"Can't I?" He moved around in front of me now, putting his back to the service desk, and took me by the shoulders. "Nobody's ever done it for me like you do, Kelsey. And I miss that. You're the last honest relationship I ever had."
"Honesty isn't your strong suit," I said.
"I mean it. Every word. What do you say? Be daring. Put a little adventure in your life."
"Like the one we just went through? No, thanks."
"What about Paris? Or Italy? Or maybe the Bahamas? We can travel the world together." He reached up and ran a finger along my jaw. "Remember all the dreams we had when we were kids? Let's make them happen. Right now."
Was he drunk, emotionally challenged, or just full of it? He couldn't possibly think I'd abandon my life and go with him. Here I thought he'd been playing me to help him escape the country, but he already had what he wanted, so why the continued charade?
"Come on, Kelsey, let's do this. We can start right where we left off."
I thought about that and suddenly felt no-nonsense Kelsey take over. "We left off with a text message," I said coldly, then reached forward and grabbed his injured side.
He yelped and jumped back and looked at me like a wounded sea otter. "What did you do that for?"
"Because she's tired of your bullshit," a voice said, then hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved him up against the bulletin board.
He grunted as Parker kicked his legs apart and started to frisk him. "Don't you move."
Ethan's face cycled through half a dozen expressions. Surprise. Shame. Anger. Betrayal. All directed at me.
His voice was laced with barely controlled fury. "The boy toy? You actually brought the boy toy?"
"I don't know what kind of spell you think you've got on her," Parker said, "but you'd better go back to the head shaman and get a refresher course. Maybe he'll be waiting for you in lockup."
Ethan couldn't stop staring at me. But even if he'd been telling the truth about what he felt and wanted, no-nonsense Kelsey didn't much care. In fact, I was happy I'd managed to beat him at his own game without once compromising my integrity.
But then Parker made a mistake.
Yes—Parker.
As he removed a pair of cuffs from his back pocket, he took his attention from what he was doing and offered me a small, triumphant smile. And as he did, Ethan suddenly swung an elbow back, catching him on the side of the head.
It wasn't much of a blow, but it was enough to throw Parker off balance and give Ethan room to move. He spun around, planted his hands on Parker's left shoulder and shoved him directly into me.
We collided and stumbled backwards. But instead of trying to go around us to the exit, Ethan took off in the opposite direction, heading farther inside.
I shouted his name then took off after him as he veered right, leapt over a row of seats, and started running across the lanes.
&nb
sp; Bowlers shouted at him to get the hell out of the way and he sprinted diagonally, jumping the balls in his path as he headed for the service door on the far left side of the alley. It led to the pinsetters, and I knew there had to be an exit back there. I couldn't let him reach it, but the way he was running, I didn't have a prayer of stopping him.
Maybe Parker did.
I felt him breeze past me at a sprint, then saw him leap the seats and follow, quickly closing half the gap between them as Ethan reached the service door. And just as he threw it open, one of the bowlers decided Parker must be the bad guy in this scenario and snapped his ball onto the lane in front of him.
The bowlers cheered as Parker stumbled and went down, but I was on him in seconds and quickly helped him to his feet. We took off together and barreled into the pinsetter room, only to discover the exit door on the far end was already hanging open, Ethan a blur of motion as he ran outside.
The guy was a freaking gazelle. But then who in his position wouldn't be?
The clatter of the pins was overpowering and the room smelled of grease and old machinery. The pinsetters themselves looked as if they'd been installed several decades ago, and I found myself thinking about the nights Ethan and I would sneak into a room just like this one to grab a private kiss. Sometimes more.
Come on, Kelsey, let's do this.
We can start right where we left off.
I shook the thought from my mind and followed Parker to the far side of the room. He paused at the open doorway, holding a hand up to stop me from rushing through.
"Easy," he said. "He could be waiting out there to ambush us."
"Ethan?"
"He's pretty good with his elbows."
"Then you have my permission to shoot him. God knows somebody needs to."
Parker grinned. "Remind me never to get on your wrong side."
"You once spent half a night on my wrong side and that turned out okay."
"Yeah, if you ignore the part where I got shot."
He reached to the small of his back where he was hiding his Glock. Pulling it free, he signaled for me to stay back as he peered outside, then stepped cautiously through the doorway.
But the moment he did, a hand holding a gun appeared, pressing the barrel against Parker's left temple.
"I think we can take it from here," a familiar voice said, then Cat Eater stepped into view.
TWENTY-TWO
There were five of them. Just like before. Cat Eater and his partner. The thugs, still dressed like hunters. They herded us to an enclosed area near a couple of industrial-sized trash bins where one of the thugs was holding Ethan at gunpoint.
"I've called this little meeting for two reasons," Cat Eater said as he turned to Parker. "First, as much as I can admire your ingenuity on a professional level, I don't appreciate being lied to. Didn't anyone ever tell you that impersonating a federal officer is a felony offense?"
"I tell him that all the time," I said.
He snapped his gaze toward me. "You can talk when I ask you to."
Yes sir.
Never argue with men carrying guns.
"I was a fed myself," he said to Parker. "Fifteen years with the ATF. But you don't see me pretending to be anything but what I am."
"And what's that?" Parker asked.
"A bounty hunter, just like you." He snorted. "Or at least what you and your little honey pot play at. You've got a long way to go before you'll be any good at it. Assuming you live long enough."
"I don't understand. If this is about collecting a bounty, why were you shooting at Kelsey and Rider in the forest?"
"We weren't trying to hit 'em, just slow 'em down until we could catch 'em."
Suddenly overcome by anger, I stepped forward and the thug guarding me grabbed my arm. "Like you slowed down that Park Ranger?"
Cat Eater shook his head. "That was unfortunate, but it wasn't on my orders. Renner was new to the crew and had a mind of his own. And thanks to you, he got what he deserved."
I couldn't argue with that, but I wasn't sure I believed the rest of it. These guys didn't look as if they were too concerned about collateral damage. Bounty hunters, my ass. They were mercenaries.
"So how does Swan fit into all of this?" I asked.
"Who?"
"You heard me. J. L. Swan."
Cat Eater knitted his brows. He had no idea what I was talking about. "The real estate guy?"
"You're working for him aren't you?"
He laughed and gestured to Ethan. "Is that what this shit bird told you?"
I snapped my gaze toward Ethan and he eyed me sheepishly, making it clear that the Swan story had been another lie, stacked on top of all the others. Elena, the pillow talk, every word of it.
"What is wrong with you?" I said.
He shrugged. "I had to improvise." He nodded toward the bowling alley. "But I wasn't lying in there, Pooks. I promise you that."
"Yeah, whatever."
Cat Eater snorted again. "Pooks? Why's he calling you Pooks? Do you actually know this guy?"
"It's complicated," I said, then turned again to Ethan. "And what about the plane crash? Was Hap really poisoned or was that bullshit, too?"
"I'm guessing it was either a stroke or a heart attack."
"Yet you had me believing Wilky murdered him. How could do that?"
"Hey, Wilky's no boy scout. He planted that bug on me, remember?"
"That was at my request," Cat Eater said. "We were planning an intercept once you landed in L.A. and we needed to be able to track you. Fortunately, Wilky was happy to cooperate."
"I'm sure you were very persuasive," Parker said. "But this isn't about any bounty, is it? What does this clown have that you want?"
"You sure you don't know? You seem awfully anxious to grab him."
"Because he's a wanted man and belongs in lockup. And I don't particularly like him."
"I wouldn't, either, if he was calling my woman Pooks."
"That's really none of your business," Parker said. "But let me ask you again. What does he have that you want?"
"If I didn't have this weapon in my hand, I'd think you were the one holding it."
"Just answer me."
Cat Eater paused. Smiled. "Ten million dollars in jewelry and diamonds, which he stole from a safe in my client's bedroom and squirreled away somewhere. We intend to find out where."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Then again, maybe I could. "Let me guess. Your client is a woman."
"A very generous woman whose pride and reputation have been sullied by this useless reptile. She heard about his arrest and hired us to intervene once he arrived in L.A. She gets the jewelry back, we get the diamonds."
I said nothing. Just stared at Ethan. And when I looked at Parker I knew he was as disgusted as I was. Probably more—although I wasn't sure that was possible.
"Which brings me to the second reason I called this meeting," Cat Eater said. "I want you two amateurs to back off. This man is our prisoner now and we'll turn him over to the authorities when we're good and ready."
"And when will that be?" Parker asked.
"Once he tells us where he hid those jewels."
"And if we refuse?"
"This isn't a request, pal. Just a courtesy warning from one ex-fed to another. You try coming after him again and we'll have to take measures. And believe me, you won't like that one bit."
The coldness I'd seen in his eyes before was back and I felt a shiver of revulsion. For all Ethan's faults, I didn't envy him being in this man's custody.
"Now, if you'll excuse us," he said, "we need to have a conversation with our prisoner."
He signaled to his men and they all broke away from us, taking Ethan with them.
Ethan struggled, looking straight at me. "Don't let them do this, Pooks. They're gonna kill me. You know they're gonna kill me."
I saw terror in his eyes. Not a feigned or calculated emotion this time, but the real thing, raw and unvarnished. It was the most genuin
e I'd ever seen him, and despite all the lies and everything he'd put me through, no-nonsense Kelsey abruptly receded and I couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
We needed to stop these guys.
"Pooks! Please… Parker!"
But what could we do? We didn't exactly have the advantage here. If we tried to make a move, they'd happily cut us down without a second thought. And as you may have figured out by now, I kind of like being alive.
Ethan kept shouting and the thug holding him put a hand over his mouth as they dragged him toward the rear parking lot. I was surprised to see that they were taking him to a limousine that sat idling quietly in one of the aisles.
Had it been there the whole time? Cat Eater's rich client, wanting to see Ethan face to face?
I could understand why.
"He's right," Parker said quietly. "Once they have what they want, they will kill him."
"I know. So what can we do about it?"
"I'm not sure. If he called you Pooks one more time, I would've killed him myself."
"Shouldn't we tell the feds?"
"And what? Spend the next six hours being interrogated before they finally get their heads out of their butts? He'll be dead by then."
They had reached the limo and were pushing Ethan into the back seat as Cat Eater and his partner moved to their SUV.
"Then shouldn't we follow them?"
Parker shook his head. "They'll be ready for that. Too risky."
"We can't just let them do this."
"I know. But he's safe until he tells them what they want and they can confirm he isn't lying. And he knows he's dead meat if he caves too easily. Which gives us a little time."
"To do what?"
"To find out where they're taking him. And I think I know who can help."
"Who?"
"Who else?" Parker said. "Wilky."
PART FOUR
Here Today,
Gone Tomorrow
TWENTY-THREE
Arlin "Wilky" Wilkinson lived in a large, plantation-style mansion in a neighborhood full of them. I remembered thinking this guy has green when he'd hosted the barbecue here, and for the first time since I'd made my abrupt detour onto this new career path, I had begun to believe it might eventually pay off.
Present Tense (A Parker & Coe, Love and Bullets Thriller Book 2) Page 8