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Jace closed his eyes. Swore. “Too late. He already did.”
Now it was Rafe’s turn to swear. “Jace, do you need to come in?”
“No. He didn’t recognize me. At least I doubt he did. Hell, I barely recognized him. I haven’t seen my old man in fifteen years. Not going to start socializing with him now.”
“I know.” Rafe’s voice sounded soothing. “Sorry I couldn’t get you a heads-up earlier.”
“You mean in case he takes up with this chapter, or another one, of the DP? Damn.” Jace rubbed a hand over his beard. Laughed. “He had to get parolednow, of all times? Couldn’t they keep him locked up for a few more years?”
“Parole officer says he really did a one-eighty in prison. Taught other inmates auto and motorcycle repair.”
“Yeah, he was always good at that. Taught me.” The irony wasn’t lost on Jace. The same skillset had gained him respect and entry into the DP.
“He had to give an address to his parole officer. I’m keeping tabs on him, just in case he decides to return to his old haunts.”
“Right. Where is he living now?”
A moment’s hesitation. “Why do you want to know?”
“Where is he, Rafe?”
“Jace, you can’t risk seeing him again. You’ll blow your cover.”
“Let me worry about that.” Then, because he and Rafe were good friends and he didn’t want him worrying, he added, “I have no intention of visiting. I didn’t visit in prison, not going to start now. Now, where the hell is my old man?”
“He’s in town. That’s all I can tell you. That and he’s changed. Let it go, Jace.”
“Trust me, he’s still the same asshole he always was.”
“Need to tell you... I have a CI on the case as well, with instructions to keep an eye on your father in case he wants to rejoin the Devil’s Patrol.”
Interesting. “Who’s the confidential informant?”
“You know I can’t tell you.”
He knew, but at least Rafe told him there was a CI. To protect an informant’s identity, the FBI assigned the person classified numbers. As the CI’s handler, only Rafe would know that number...and the person’s true identity.
“Whoever it is, tell them to watch the old man. He’s slick. Gotta go.”
Glancing at the clock and realizing he needed to return to work, Jace stared at his cell phone and thumbed through the contacts until finding it.
Mom.
Seeing his old man had made the painful past rush back in a flood. His father was right in that his mother, Al’s ex-wife, had moved away. But she hadn’t taken Jace with her. Nope, he’d been in the Army by then, in boot camp.
He hesitated. She might ask questions. Where Jace was, what he was doing. Maybe even worry about him. He only needed to reassure her he was on a big assignment and could take care of himself.
Jace hit the button. Deep inside, he had a tiny hope she might express concern. Maybe she might care.
This time.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. It’s me.”
“Stephen? Is everything all right at school?”
Jace’s throat tightened. “No, Mom, it’s your other son. You know, the firstborn son. Jason.”
