Rhett’s expression darkened. “What kind of technology do you have that the cartel would be interested in?”

I shrugged and considered my pipeline. “I have a few pet projects that I mess with when I have time.”

“Like?”

“Facial-recognition software that works with wearable cameras and can be synced to any database. Information about the subjects recognized by the software can be relayed through an earbud. It’s not ready for use, but it’s not far off. I was playing with stuff I thought could make cops safer on the streets. You know, for people like you and my brother.”

Rhett closed his eyes for a beat before opening them. “Who knows you’ve been working on this?”

“A few people. I haven’t made a big deal about it, but R&D knows because several of them contributed ideas when I got stuck, and they helped me get unstuck.”

“It could be valuable to the good guys and the bad, so that’s a possibility. What else?”

“Some other products that don’t seem to have much useful commercial application, except maybe the advanced scent-blocking technology. It’s better than what’s available now. Even drug dogs can’t sniff . . .”

Rhett’s eyes lit up. “That could be it too. I know the cartels have advanced tech, but something that could help them move more product over the border with fewer seizures would be of interest.”

“You think so? It doesn’t explain why they’d blow up your parents’ house.”

Rhett’s shoulders stiffened and his mouth pinched tight. He shook his head. “That doesn’t have any connection to you. My dad got involved with them somehow, and I don’t have the answers about why and how. But it started a long time ago, before my brother was killed. Just because there’s cartel involved on two different ends doesn’t mean it’s the same people or even related.”

It seemed unlikely that there was no relation at all, but I wouldn’t push it because I’d been trying to find a correlation all afternoon and I’d come up empty. God, I hated this. Hated bringing up what I knew was incredibly painful for Rhett, especially because he didn’t have any more answers than I did.

“Then what do we do? How do we handle this?” I asked.

“First, we figure out how the security footage was wiped. Could someone else have been on the property at the same time as the guy who threatened you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess.”

“You have to realize that they have resources you can’t even imagine. If they’re able to get in here, they’re able to do just about any damn thing.”

“So you don’t think Carver would’ve done it?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying there’s more than one possibility, and we need to look at all of them.”

“Occam’s razor says when you hear hoofbeats—”

“Think horses, not zebras. Yeah, I know. But guess what, Red? The cartel is a zebra, not a horse. They don’t play by the rules of simple logic.”

I let that sink in. “Okay, so throw out logic. How do we confirm it? I’m never going to feel safe with Carver around until I know he wasn’t involved.”

Rhett was quiet for several long moments before his lips curved up in a smile. “We go old-school.”

43

Rhett

All the information Ari relayed churned through my brain. I tried to put the pieces together as she got dressed so we could find answers.

Her ex-boyfriend was a top cartel member, and even though I told her there couldn’t be any connection, something was eating at me. Maybe there was. It was possible.

They’d been working their way into New Orleans for years, and the fact that they’d latched onto her was too convenient. If there was one thing I’d learned from all my years on the force, it was that coincidences did happen. You could go looking for meaning and connections, and all you’d find was lack of causation. Just because A and B happened around the same time didn’t mean they had jack shit to do with each other.

I wasn’t going to drop the possibility until I had more information, though.

But the last thing I wanted was Ari thinking there was a connection between her and what had happened to my dad. Those events were set into motion years before she’d ever met this guy.

Years before I knew the cartel was in New Orleans. Years before I had any power to stop it.

A little of my guilt evaporated with those realizations. My dad had hidden it from us all, had covered his tracks well. He didn’t want me to know there was anything going on, and he’d done a damn good job of it. If he’d been getting paid, I had no idea what he did with the money. My parents hadn’t lived a flashy life. The occasional new car and vacation was it.

I’d tried to talk Ari into staying in the safe room, but she refused. As much as I wanted to lock her inside until I had an answer about Carver, I couldn’t. I would never try to put her in a box and expect her to stay there. Ari was her own boss and would always make her own choices.

Which was why she followed me out to my Jeep, and I unearthed the crime-scene kit I rarely ever took out. I’d used it a few times for my PI cases. Fingerprint powder was messy and old-school, but it worked.

Carver had finished washing the car and had his gun apart for cleaning on the coffee table in the garage lounge area. Obviously, the guy was bored out of his mind, which worked out perfectly for me.

I pulled my pistol and turned it on him. No point in being subtle.

“What the fuck?” His expression darkened and he reached for his empty holster.

“You know about the guy who was here earlier? The one who threatened to kill Ari?”

His eyes widened, shooting from me to Ari as she stood behind me, my backup pistol held loosely in her hand. “No. What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me? Scream for help?”

“I did yell, but the boat driving away drowned it out,” she replied.

“But—”

I interrupted because we didn’t have time for the question-and-answer game. “Security footage is missing for that span of time, Carver, and from what I understand from the boss here, this is a closed system, which means you could’ve been the one to erase it.”