Page 38 of Flint’s Strike

It’s the only one I need.

By the time Eliot arrives, Nate’s stacked the piles of paperwork neatly along the far half of the conference table and arranged the takeout containers so Eliot has to sit right next to me.

Traitor.

Eliot stops in the doorway, cardboard drink carrier in one hand, and a thick file folder in the other. I’m in the middle of a LexisNexis search for our missing inspector, but can’t remember which record I was about to click on. Not with how good Eliot looks in dark blue Wranglers and a charcoal button-down shirt—one that’s not stained with soot and my blood. His hair’s tousled again, he’s freshly shaven, and he clearly slept longer than I did last night.

I try not to resent him for that.

“Parker.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly as he crosses the room and hands me a large iced coffee.

“You have no idea how much I needed this.”

Nate makes a quiet sound that suspiciously resembles a laugh.

I shoot him a look.

He pretends to be fascinated by a packet of jalapeño vinaigrette.

Eliot slides Nate’s latte across the table. Small lines crinkle around his eyes, almost like the movement cost him. “Soy, man? Really? Oat is so much better.”

“Oat tastes like grass and despair,” Nate says, his hands wrapping around the cup like it’s worth an entire month’s salary. “Now, hemp…that I can get behind.”

“Agreed. But the only place in town I’ve found hemp is Alabaster’s kiosk, and they closed hours ago.” Eliot sets the file folder on the table. “Preliminary findings from Cedar Park. Expanded reports from Round Rock, including a thumb drive with all the high-res photos I took. Some of the lab work is still pending, but enough came back to confirm these fires weren’t random—or unrelated.”

Nate reaches for the paperwork with one hand, a fork in the other. “We’ve got…too much and not enough at the same time.”

Eliot eases himself into the empty chair next to me and sweeps his gaze around the room. “The ‘too much’ I can believe. This…”

“Don’t flatter him. He’s already ordered a new set of highlighters. Ten colors this time.”

“You forgot about the Post-It notes. Pastels, neons, and earth tones. I’m diversifying,” Nate says through a mouthful of tofu with spicy dressing. “And the file folders.”

“AJ’s gonna take away your expense account.” I turn to Eliot, expecting a hint of a smile. Maybe even a chuckle. But instead, he looks…wistful.

Nudging his shoulder with mine, I lower my voice. “You okay?”

Whatever had a hold of him vanishes with a blink. “Just hungry. Let’s eat, and then I’ll walk you through my findings.”

Chapter Fourteen

Eliot

Nate excuses himself to grab us some waters from the break room. The enchiladas are spicy enough I’m going to start sweating in a minute, despite this building’s overactive air conditioning.

Parker watches me with a hint of amusement. “You can admit defeat any time. Though, I’ve seen your chili recipe. I thought you could handle the heat.”

“I can.” The words come out raspy, and I take a long pull on the iced coffee. It helps. A little. “How’s the leg?”

She stares into her takeout container, shoulders curved inward, and I curse the question.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean⁠—”

“It’s fine,” she says, a hint of a rough edge to her tone. “Desk duty for the next couple of days. AJ—Chief Stone—threatened to send me home if I tried to leave the building for anythin’ other than lunch.”

“He seems like a good guy. I only worked with him twice when he was a captain, but he was always steady.”