Epilogue
Cara Beckett strolled through Arrivals at Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport without a single person recognizing her, and that was exactly the way she liked it. She tossed a glance over her shoulder to be sure her companions were right behind her.
“You’re in the fast-paced capital city now. Try to keep up,” she called over her shoulder.
“There’s seriously only one terminal?” Chris asked, quickening his pace to fall in beside her.
“Yep.”
She smiled as they approached the single escalator down to the baggage claim area. Cara paused to allow Chris to go first, waiting for Tom to catch up. With his ever-present computer bag hanging off one shoulder and a small carry-on in the other hand, the man was craning his neck as if the small airport was one of the wonders of the modern world.
“Come on, Captain Moneybags, you can put an offer in on the place another time,” she teased.
“It’s weird. I guess I’ve only ever flown into larger airports,” he observed, stepping on the escalator behind her.
“When you’ve flown commercial,” she qualified. “We won’t count general aviation.”
Tom frowned as he pondered her take. “You know, if you’re serious about this, maybe we should look into investing in a company plane after all,” he mused.
“Yes!” Chris thrust his fist into the air, garnering the attention of the passengers around them. He didn’t shrink from the spotlight. “I’ve been saying so for years.”
“Yeah, well, we haven’t been able to actually afford one,” Tom shot back.
“And now we can,” Chris said, his smile smug.
At the foot of the escalator he hooked a hand through Cara’s arm. Tom flanked her left side, and they walked three abreast through the sliding doors into bright autumn sunshine. The late-November breeze swirled around them.
Beside her Chris gave an exaggerated shudder. “I thought it was supposed to be hot in the South?” he complained.
“We’re due east of Los Angeles,” she reminded him.
“Do I need to call a car?” Tom said, sliding a phone from his pocket.
“No, I have a friend picking us up,” she said as she scanned the line of cars depositing and scooping up passengers. She spotted the plain black SUV with the state tags parked in one of the diagonal pull-through spots with a five-minute limit. “There she is.”
As they approached, the driver’s door opened and Emma Parker stepped out. “You made it,” she said, meeting them at the back of the vehicle.
“We made it,” Cara called back. “Tom, Chris, this is Special Agent Emma Parker. Be polite. She has a gun.”
But it was Emma who was enthralled by the sight of the tech whizzes. “Wow. I’m so thrilled to meet you.” She shook each man’s hand, then turned to Tom. “I’ve been hacking multiplayer games since I was eleven. Like you.” A pretty peach blush colored her cheeks. “I mean, I know you used to—”
Tom cut her off there. “Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I still do.”
“He never had the patience to beat them legitimately,” Chris chimed in.
“Me either,” Emma said with a grin.
“Some of us actually have skills,” Chris said pointedly.
“Okay, okay.” Cara waved them both toward the doors. “You can flirt with her while we drive.”
Once they were all settled into the vehicle, Emma joined the steady flow of traffic circling the small airport. Cara pointed to the parking deck. “The garage where I got carjacked,” she said, using her best impression of a tour guide.
“Not funny,” Tom muttered.
“I’m not kidding,” she retorted.
“Cara’s Trauma Tours,” Chris said with a peevish edge. “Not a great selling point for your plan.”
Cara turned and found both men scowling at the concrete structure as if it were responsible for the incident. “I don’t have to sell you on my plan,” she reminded them gently.
“We’re still partners,” Tom argued.
Smiling, Cara nodded, pleased too with the way they’d reconnected in the two weeks since Zarah Parvich and Paul Stanton were arrested and LYYF had a record-breaking launch on the stock exchange. When Cara told them she was heading back to Arkansas to spend Thanksgiving with her parents, the two men seemed genuinely sad to end the ongoing celebration.
“I can tell you the whole cybercrimes crew is really excited to have you drop by,” Emma informed them as they merged onto the highway. She shot Cara a sidelong glance. “Wyatt in particular.”
“Well, we appreciate all you did to help Cara,” Chris answered. “A quick stopover to thank you in person is the least we could do.”
Cara watched the highway signs zip past. This was the same route Gerald Griffin had forced her to take mere weeks before, but looked completely different with her two oldest friends along for the ride. Just a few miles down, Emma signaled her intent to exit. Arkansas State Police Headquarters was located in an old shopping mall on the city’s south side.
Within minutes, Emma had wheeled the SUV into a spot designated for official vehicles and killed the engine. “We’ve got about an hour before I’ll need to get you back to check in for your flights out.”
“Let’s do this then,” Chris said, reaching for the door handle and discovering it was useless. He was trapped in the back of the police SUV. “Or not.”
“Cop locks,” Emma informed them. “Hang on, we’ll let you out.”
“Yeah. Makes sense,” Chris muttered as Emma opened the rear door for him.
Cara smiled at Tom as he stepped out of the vehicle.
“Should I take my bags?” he asked.
Emma wrinkled her nose, then shrugged. “Up to you. This is not a great area, but if they’re not safe in this vehicle, they aren’t safe in any.”
“Good point.”
Emma made a point of chirping the locks as they walked away, and they all laughed.
A chuckle tangled in Cara’s throat when one of the glass doors leading into headquarters opened and Wyatt Dawson stepped into the sunlight. His hair glinted gold and his shoulders looked broader than ever as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for them, his lips curved into a smile he was clearly keeping on a tight rein.
Cara hung back, allowing Emma to make the introductions between the men. When Wyatt reached for the door and held it open for them, she hesitated on the sidewalk. Wyatt clocked her position with a glance, then let the door swing shut behind the others.
“Hey,” he said, his gaze locked on her.
“Hi,” she returned.
Then, unable to hold back a moment longer, Cara flung herself at him. He caught her up easily, strong arms winding tight around her as she buried her face in his neck.
“One minute you were there, and before I could even...you were gone,” she mumbled into his skin.
“I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay with you, but I didn’t know what you wanted and I couldn’t... I love my job, Cara. I didn’t know—”
“No. Right, I know,” she said, her voice choked.
He held her fast, one hand sliding up her back to hold her to him even tighter. “Breathe,” he whispered into her ear.
She gave a soggy chuckle and inhaled deeply. Maybe she got drunk on the scent of his soap, or perhaps he was exuding some kind of pheromone that made rational women lose their minds. She didn’t know exactly why she pressed her lips to the exposed skin above his collar, she only knew it was absolutely necessary.
Wyatt froze for a second, and she wondered if she’d gone too far.
Then, the next thing she knew, he gripped the back of her head in his big, warm palm and his mouth was on hers. His lips were warm and firm, the bottom slightly chapped from his habit of gnawing on it, but all in all, the kiss was perfect. Long, lingering and packed with promise.
She pressed her slick lips together when he drew back for air. The last thing she wanted was to do something stupid like apologize. Not when she was not the least bit sorry he’d kissed her.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you a long time,” he confessed, his voice slightly hoarse. “But this probably isn’t the best time and place.”
“Feels right to me,” she said, her voice breathy.
“Complicates things,” he said gruffly.
“Not for me,” she answered, pulling back to look him in the eye. “This is by far the easiest decision I’ve made in weeks.”
“Is it?”
She nodded. “I’m heading up to my folks for Thanksgiving,” she informed him.
To her chagrin, he loosened his hold on her. “Sounds great. I’ll be working on shift for the holiday, but probably head down to see my family over the weekend.”
“Oh. I see.”
She was unable to mask her disappointment, and he was as perceptive as ever. “Why? What’s happening?”
“Oh, nothing.” Cara flashed a shaky smile, her nerves ratcheting up as they circled one another. Taking a calming breath, she dove in. “I was wondering if you might have some free time this weekend.”
His eyebrows rose. “Well, sure. I mean, I didn’t have anything set in stone. What did you have in mind?”
“I thought you might like to come with me to check out a piece of property,” she suggested, hugging herself as she braced against the stiff wind and possible rejection.
“Property?”
“There’s a couple places out near Pinnacle Mountain State Park.” His eyes lit with interest when she mentioned the recreational area just north and west of Little Rock. “You know, I was thinking someplace far enough out to have some land to build a studio, but close enough to enjoy the perks of high-speed internet.”
“The perks of high-speed internet?” he repeated, his smile stretching wide. “What kind of perks?”
“Oh, you know, cop shows on CineFlix. And maybe, if the connection is as reliable as I think it is, a certain cop might possibly show up at my door to watch cop shows on CineFlix?” she suggested with a hopeful smile.
“I’d love to come look at property with you,” he said, looking her square in the eye.
“I’m not going back to California,” she told him. “I mean, at least not permanently. I’m sure I’ll have to go out there someti—”
He cut her off with another kiss, this one swift and sure.
They jumped apart when someone hit the crash bar on the door with a little extra force. “Hey, Dawson,” a gruff voice called out.
Cara laughed, pressing her forehead to Wyatt’s shoulder as she tipped her head to the side. Trooper Masterson stood grinning in the open doorway, a small knot of people gathered around Chris and Tom behind him.
“You planning to hold the poor woman hostage or something? I wouldn’t try it. I hear she’s slippery.”
Looping an arm across her shoulders, Wyatt kept her close as he turned toward the door. “Oh, I know. Cara Beckett can take care of herself and everyone else around her,” he informed the older man. “Believe me, I plan to stay on her good side.”