Page 9 of The Heat is On

Right. The kind that transported human cargo.

Maybe Rio should have politely declined this assignment. But very few agents could blend into prison population like he could. It wasn’t a resumé he loved, but it could prove useful.

If his team could get Darryl to agree to help them find—and testify against—Buttles. And, if Rio could keep Darryl alive long enough to do it.

Perkins picked up the worn copy of a book he’d spent half the night reading. “A Jack Reacher novel.”

“Misunderstood guy,” Rio said.

The edge of her mouth lifted. “I have a short-term solution. There’s a blow-up north of here, and the BLM called and asked if I had any guys who could work on a handcrew. Minimum security, trustworthy types.” She met his eyes. “I thought of you.”

“A blow-up? As in a forest fire?”

“Mmmhmm. I’ve already picked out three young guys who are finishing up a thirty-six-hour hold for brawling, a man named Archer Mills, who is a former cop, by the way—”

“I’ve seen him. Seems like a good guy.”

“He is. Local. Got entangled in an involuntary manslaughter charge. There’s some talk around here that he didn’t deserve what he got, but he’s kept his chin clean. He’s done in a month. And then there’s Clancy Smythe. He’s in for thirty days for possession of cannabis.”

“They should just make that legal,” Rio said.

“I don’t make the rules. He’s a week into his stay, and I’m not opposed to a work release for him.” She folded her arms. “There’s another man brought in under a vehicle theft charge. Fake ID, but he says his name is Thorne. We’re still trying to track his real name down, but he’s quiet and stays to himself. And then there’s you.”

“And Darryl, I’m assuming. Because I’m not going anywhere without him.”

“And Darryl. You think you can keep him out of trouble?”

“As in alive? Yes.”

“As in, keep him from running.”

He hadn’t given that much thought, but, “Darryl isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. But he does what he’s told…including keeping his mouth shut, apparently. I’ll be on him like glue. Except…a fire? I don’t know anything about fighting fires.”

“You’ll be working with a smokejumper team. And there’s no security, Rio, so I’m counting on you to keep these guys in line. You’re my guy out there. Just follow instructions, do the job, put out the fire, and let me work on nailing Boneyard for the attack. Hopefully I can get him moved before you come back.”

“Ifwe come back.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I just don’t want to burn to death on some hillside.” He let a half smile tweak his face.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Agent Parker.” She gestured for the guards to return. Met his eyes. Smiled. “I know it’s hard to forget sometimes, handcuffed and dressed in prison garb, but you’re one of the good guys.”

The guards opened the door, and she left him behind, standing in the cold cell.

Tucker was driving her crazy.

Skye sat on the ridge just north of the fire, binoculars to her eyes, watching a black wall of smoke plume into the sky from a fresh fire that had called the team out this morning, some ten miles north of Copper Mountain into Denali National Park.

From the minute she’d shown up with her personal gear—PG—pack, Tucker had decided to start babysitting. He’d checked her pack, her equipment in her leg pouches. “You have your hard hat, leather gloves, signal mirror—”

Of course she did.

But she’d kept a smile and nodded, even when he patted her on the shoulder and told her how to jump out of a plane. Like she might be in rookie camp all over again.

Never mind that he’d assigned her to his stick—like he couldn’t trust her to jump with one of the other rookies.

And yes, for a moment, as they soared over the fire in Barry Kingston’s yellow twin Otter, as Skye had leaned out and glimpsed the fire some ten acres in breadth, the heat boiling up like a cauldron, her stomach had nearly emptied.

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