Chapter 11
SEATTLE (Saturday, Dec. 1, 2012, 10 p.m.)— Parker slammed down the phone and turned to the other man in the room. “Goddam little prick,” Parker said furiously. “And you think we could have reasoned with him?”
“Won’t ever know now,” Kellerman said. He was leaning back in his chair, a toothpick in his teeth. “That wasn’t exactly what I call reasoning with him.”
Parker blew out air through his lips. “He found the buttons to push,” Parker admitted. “What do you think he’ll do?”
Kellerman shrugged. “I don’t know. But I would bet my retirement that he won’t back off. There’s no back up in that boy.”
Parker looked at the man he almost considered a son. Actually, he liked C.J. better than his own son.
“Why is he so touchy about being called son?” Parker asked, curious about the on
