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“He’s an FBI agent—an old buddy of mine. If he told you I’d vouch for him, he wants you to know that.”
John was an agent before he became a private investigator. I’ve always suspected Peterson wasn’t his real last name, but he’s never confirmed that until now. I don’t know much about his past, other than the fact he worked deep undercover. It’s likely why he’s so damn good at his job. He left the bureau after some major shit went down, but couldn’t shake feeling restless. Being a private investigator allows him to get his fix, I guess.
“So, this guy is an agent? You think he’s undercover?”
“I’ll have to make some calls to be sure.”
I let out a heavy breath. “I don’t like that he sought me out at that dinner. What if my dad saw us? What was he doing there in the first place?”
“Kingston, the one thing I do know is that Rafe wouldn’t have approached you unless he felt it was safe. He’s highly trained to assess risk, and he’s damn good at his job.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Do you think the FBI is watching my father or Callahan? Or both?”
“If they are, it’s going to make my job a lot easier.”
“Why’s that?”
I swear I can hear John smiling. “Because the FBI likes to push boundaries when it comes to outside contractors, so to speak. They’ll happily share their information and resources. If Rafe wants me to be their liaison—which I suspect he might, considering the way he approached you—I’d have a lot more manpower at my disposal.”
“Why would the FBI do that? It seems risky.”
“Because if shit goes south and an agent isn’t directly involved, the government can deny any involvement. But if things do go the way they planned, you have the agency behind you to make arrests and protect your anonymity. If you ever see news breaking of a mob bust, that’s a perfect example. They’ll often use someone on the inside because crime outfits don’t take well to newcomers. But you never hear about those people, do you?”
“Why do I feel like I just stepped onto the set of a mafia movie?” I mutter.
“Those are a lot more accurate than one might think.” He laughs. “Rafe obviously knows I’m digging, and if he knows that, it’s because he was looking very carefully. I know how to cover my ass, and only someone with a certain skill set could trace me.”
I stretch my neck from side to side. “And this Rafe guy has that skill set?”
“He does.”
“So, why not just approach you if you already know each other? Why come to me first?”
“What exactly did he say to you?”
“That we had a friend in common—you—and that he wanted me to put a face to a name. He told me to call him to arrange a meet after you vouched for him.”
“Knowing Rafe, it’s as simple as that. You were in the same place simultaneously, and he took the opportunity to meet you in person. He would’ve known I’d
fill in the blanks as soon as you talked to me.”
“So, I should call him?”
“Hold off on that for now. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll get back to you with our next steps.”
“You really think this guy could help us take down my father and Callahan?”
“I think it’s worth a shot.”
Well, shit. How can I say no to that?
***
“Damn,” Reed says. “This is a good thing, right?”
I just finished telling Reed and Bentley about John’s FBI friend. They were hanging at Reed’s house, so I came over as soon as I hung up the phone.
“John thinks it could be. He’s going to dig into it a little before figuring out what our next course of action should be. Whatever that is, it needs to happen soon. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
