Page 27 of Hot Pursuit
“Bad,” Agent Parker answered immediately.
“Okay. A man who just got laid off from work goes into a grocery store and gets caught stealing a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread, good or bad?”
He shrugged and again answered easily. “Bad.”
“Fine. A man who just got laid off from work, who is drowning in debt from his late wife’s medical bills, goes into a grocery store and gets caught stealing a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread, good or bad?”
Agent Parker swallowed, pausing for a moment. “There are other ways…”
“Good or bad?” Jo pressed.
He shifted his feet, but a challenge sparked in his gaze. “Fine. Bad.”
“Okay. Now a man who just got laid off from work, who is drowning in debt from his late wife’s medical bills, who has three children at home who haven’t eaten a real meal in three days, goes into a grocery store and gets caught stealing a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread, good or bad?”
“A crime is a crime,” he responded firmly.
“That’s not what I asked,” Jo countered. “I asked if he’s a good person or a bad person.”
“The law works in black and white.”
“Well, maybe it shouldn’t.” Jo shrugged. “Not when the world is awash in shades of gray.”
Agent Parker threw up his hands as he grunted and shook his head. “What does this have to do with anything we were talking about? We were talking about you. About your father. Not some poor victim of circumstance.”
“Well, here’s another hypothetical for you,” Jo answered. Deep inside, her better sense screamed at her to shut up, but she couldn’t. Because she didn’t want to be seen as the bad guy, as the villain. She didn’t want him to see her that way. “A fourteen-year-old girl who doesn’t have a care in the world aside from boys and school and her Easy-Bake oven finds out her mother has an aggressive form of cancer and only has a few months to live. Her father chooses the night of her mother’s funeral to come clean about his true profession, asking for forgiveness, asking for love, for loyalty. So she gives it. And she keeps giving it, pushing all her own dreams aside, because they are all each other has in the world. Good person or bad person?”
Agent Parker’s face softened.
His shoulders dropped from their tense position around his neck. He lifted his hand, as though to stretch it across the space separating them, and then paused. “Jo.”
She stepped back and arched a brow, holding on to the challenge in her voice, to the fight, to the fire. This man wanted to lock her in a jail cell for the rest of her life, wanted to put her father away, Thad, everyone she loved. No baking. No friends. No life. And maybe she deserved it. But she had to hold on to the idea that she didn’t—or she would crumble. “Good person or bad person, Agent Parker?”
His jaw clenched.
Those stern brows pressed together, hard.
“Bad,” he answered finally, forcing the word through his lips, making it sound almost like a confession.
Jo released a sad puff of air as she raised her brows for a moment and held his gaze. “Then I guess we’re done here.”
She turned.
And walked away.
Let him try to follow.
The museum was a maze of small rooms and open doors and crowded hallways, giving her the obvious advantage as she slipped from one spot to the next. Jo had planned to meet Thad in front of the Monet, one of his favorites, but they’d made eye contact the second she’d walked into the room, and he’d fled immediately. Knowing Thad, he hadn’t gone far. Jo just needed to give him a chance to catch up to her in a place Agent Parker couldn’t see. The meet today wasn’t a long one, just a quick exchange, over with the briefest sleight of hand.
I only need to lose you for a minute, Jo thought, glancing behind to find Nathaniel Parker in the crowd, eyes sharply focused on her. Luckily, he was tall enough to stand out, making him easy to spot, and broad chested enough to bump into people, slowing him down.
She grinned and waved.
Never let them see you sweat.
Jo turned, kept her head down and pressed on. Cutting through a door. Swerving through another. Drawing confusing circles. Then down a flight of stairs. Through another hall. Into a room. Out of another. Quick. Quick. Quick. Until she reached the spot she wanted to go to, the one she assumed Thad would also gravitate toward—the Temple of Dendur. Practically given its own wing, the temple stood in the center of a massive vaulted room, surrounded by a shallow moat of water. A two-story wall made entirely of windows looked out at the park. The sheer size of the space made voices echo and carry, and the sheer number of people inside made it ideal. The room was by far the most popular one in the entire museum, an easy place to get lost in the crowd. Not to mention it was close to the exit, which made for an easy way out.
Jo moved toward the temple, climbing the handful of steps up to the platform. Keeping her head forward, she was careful not to be obviously searching for anyone in the crowd, but also made herself visible enough to be easily spotted. She reached into her purse and found the thumb drive at the bottom of her things, next to a tube of lipstick. She clutched both in her fist. Idly observing the ancient temple, Jo freshened her red lips and then put the makeup back into her bag, discreetly holding the drive against her palm with her thumb so no one would see. To the casual observer, nothing would have looked unusual. But if Thad was there, it was the signal.
