Guns & Dusty Roads: The Iron Brotherhood Series by Samantha Westlake

criminal, a deviant, definitely not boyfriend material.  Normally, Kara would never expect to find herself confronting him - except perhaps across a metal table in a suspect examination room in a police station.
    But still, she was finally starting to accept, the man seemed to have a little spark of caring about her.
    And it felt nice to know that it was there.
    CHAPTER 12
    “So, what’s the word?  You get anywhere in figuring out what info we’re gonna feed the pigs about those Hellraisers?”
    Kara swallowed her bite of food, giving herself time to reflect on the answer before she spoke aloud.  “Maybe,” she said, reaching for her drink.
    The drink was clear, and consisted of nothing but water and a few ice cubes.  Kara had specifically made sure to turn down any offers of alcohol - not even beer.  The other bikers had looked a little surprised at that decision, but they didn’t press her - and for that, the undercover FBI agent was thankful.
    Tonight, she definitely didn’t want a repeat of the previous night.
    Before heading all the way back to the Iron Brotherhood’s house, Kara had pulled off of the highway at a convenient parking lot.  She had waved to Cross to go on ahead.  “I’ll be fine from here!” she shouted at him, struggling to be heard over the still-idling bikes.
    Cross had looked concerned, but she waved him off, and he headed out to meet her back at the house.  Kara watched him go, the little cloud of dust from his bike disappearing off into the distance.
    He was wonderful, but she had to give a full and unbiased report back to Rogers at the FBI, and she didn’t want Cross listening in.
    Once she was certain that the man was gone, Kara pulled out her phone and placed the call.  An unsmiling, blank voice picked up at the other end, and Kara read off her verification code and requested the extension for Rogers’ desk.
    Rogers answered with similar guardedness in his voice.  But as Kara told her story (although she carefully left out some of the activities that happened last evening, after she had convinced the Iron Brotherhood to help her gather information), the man warmed up, growing less upset.  By the time she was finishing, the man was almost enthusiastic - a rarity for the rough senior agent.
    “By damn, at least you’re doing better than Shaw and his band of yes-men,” Rogers commented, when Kara finished sharing what she’d uncovered so far.  “Normally, he’s a great agent, but for this case he seems to have a gift of sniffing out every dead end - and god, the press is eating my ass alive on this.  You’re the one bright note in this shit-show of a day so far, you should know.”
    This was faint praise from anyone else, but Kara knew that it was meaningful when Rogers said it, that his intentions behind it were positive.  “Don’t count on my solving the whole case just yet,” Kara cautioned, even as her face threatened to break into a smile.  “I don’t have any proof yet.”
    “But you think you can get it?” Rogers pressed.
    She only hesitated slightly before replying.  “I’m not sure how I’m going to do it yet, but yes.  I’ll get proof.”
    “Good.  You pull this off, Sybil, and there will definitely be a feather in your cap, or at least a commendation in your file,” Rogers added.  “This is a big deal for you.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    For a moment longer, Rogers paused, not speaking yet.  Kara knew that there was another thought bouncing around in the man’s mind, his wheels turning as he tried to get it organized, and she waited patiently, listening. 
    “What about your cover?” he finally asked.  “Your uncle helped put you in with these bikers, right?  Are they suspecting you?”
    “I don’t think so.  I think that my cover’s secure, sir.”
    “No potential problems?  You are pushing pretty hard on them, without a lot of time to build any real background.  What about your CI that introduced you?”
    ‘CI’ stood for