She smiled and slid down on a towel next to Hunter Forrest. He turned to her and ran a finger along her cheek. “This is the life,” he said softly. “I almost feel guilty. Days in the sun, diving this afternoon, nights with the sunset and the music. I could do this forever.”
“No, you couldn’t,” she said, amused. “You became an FBI agent because you were a child stuck in a horrible cult, and an FBI agent saved you and your parents. You need to be out there. You saw how your mom and dad got suckered into it. They saw people needed help, and those with a lot of money liked to keep it and weren’t always generous. Some people—some rich people—are great. But what your mom saw made her want a better way, and she thought she had found it. You saw evil could masquerade in many forms.” Her smile faded slightly. “You grew up and became an FBI agent because you’re determined to slay the evil that man does to his fellow man.”
“Sure. Right. Well, you know, second choice. Wrong era to be a knight in shining armor. And you’ve met my folks. They just wanted the best, and they were young and naive and looking for a better way. Anyway, we are what we are. But Clint Bullard is playing tonight. We’ll have some dinner, listen to him sing and play...maybe one of us will join him on a country music hit. We won’t stay too late, because we have a great room with those windows that open to the sunrise.”
“Sounds good, especially since we only have a few days left before vacation and leave time are up,” Amy said. She sat up pensively. It had been weeks since the showdown that had left Hunter injured, and his bones had healed. And while they worked for two separate agencies—he was FBI and she was Florida Department of Law Enforcement—she was now on loan to the FBI because of the Four Horsemen case. And although they’d taken down some of the players in the deadly enterprise afoot, they knew another shoe would drop.
Someone out there wanted the Apocalypse. Or they were in it for power or money or both and made use of the easily beguiled they could use in their quest. People who believed they would be the chosen when the world came to an end. And if murder was asked of someone, it was simply a means to an end.
“What are you thinking?” Hunter asked, studying her face.
She loved Hunter. Everything about him. Tall, dark, blue-eyed and fit not just because of his chosen vocation, but because he loved doing things. He loved the water, boats, and watching college and pro football games, along with basketball, baseball, and hockey. If he didn’t know about something, that was okay, he was eager to find out.
And he cared about people.
“I can’t help it. I mean, I have relaxed, I swear. But I was thinking of my old partner John Schultz and the first cases. I will miss him, but he will enjoy his retirement. I think back to the first case with the white horse, and finding the woman crucified in the Everglades. I think about putting away a bad guy, and then receiving the little red horse when we were vacationing before. And I think about the crazy lady we put away after that, and how she’s still convinced she’s a warrior and the lives she took don’t matter because she’ll be lifted up at the end. And I think—”
“Hold on,” Hunter said quietly. He had reached for his phone; she hadn’t heard it ring. He’d kept it on vibrate.
She watched his expression change as he listened. “All right. What time did you say? Thanks. Yep, we can do it.”
When he hung up, she knew.
“The black horse?” she asked.
He nodded, still studying her face.
“We have a plane to catch,” he said.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “First out of Key West. And then where?”
“Denver. Via Miami. There has been a rash of disappearances, apparently.”
“But why would that indicate anything to do with the Horsemen cases?”
“A little black plastic horse. This time, it was received by a colleague of mine, a guy I worked with years ago. Andy Mason, Assistant Field Director out there. He has no idea where it came from. It wasn’t mailed to him—it was on his doorstep when he went home last night. The entire agency has been briefed on what did happen with the previous Horsemen cases and to be aware we’ve been warned it isn’t over. Andy talked to the brass, and we’re to join him and see if the horse and the missing people do align. Andy is a good guy and a good agent. He didn’t miss the little horse, and he’s the one with the theory the missing people may have something to do with the horse.”
“No luck on getting our crazy incarcerated ‘red horse’ to talk, right?” Amy asked.
“She has an attorney who has advised her to keep her mouth shut. Poor attorney. Our ‘red horse’ is so proud of herself for being in her position, she doesn’t seem to appreciate the fact she shouldn’t be saying she orchestrated life and death. I think she really is a true believer.”
“She wanted to go into politics. That’s what I can’t wrap my head around,” Amy said lightly.
“And God help us all. She had it together until the end. Imagine if she had started in office in state government and moved on to national prominence.”
“Terrifying. Anyway—”
“Hey, vacation was ending. And they have a nice place for us in a hotel on the outskirts of Denver. I mean, it won’t be hot, and our days won’t be filled with diving and our nights with music and heat—”
“Hey!” Amy teased. “Mr. G-man, it will be hot wherever you are.”
“Thanks—I’ll take it,” Hunter said. “So, our plane out of here is in just three hours—”
He paused, stopping to look at his phone before answering it again. He sat silent for a moment before saying, “Um, sure, thanks.”
He hung up, grinning.
“Never mind. Our plane is in two hours, direct to Denver.”
“And we’re going to get to the airport and through security and—”
“Private plane,” he told her. “The brass is sending us off right. We won’t even have to worry about lunch.”
“Cool. Okay, so...”
They still had to hurry. They had to forego the tour of Fort Zachary Taylor they had planned for later. They had to make good time—it was a six-hour flight at best. With the time change, they’d get a few hours back, but now that they were going...
Amy wanted to move.
Within two hours, they were in the air. It was one nice plane—Amy had to thank the powers that be who had provided for them.
Amy looked out the window. She really did love Key West.
Hunter was at her side. “I know. I’m sorry. Watching sun and sea and a bit of nirvana disappear into a tiny spec.”