A new Cutter’s Code hero meets his match!

After a series of his ex-girlfriends die mysteriously, tracker and tech expert Liam Burnett vows to steer clear of romantic entanglements. But when he’s assigned to work with Ria Connelly, unwanted feelings ambush Liam. And though he warns Ria that he’s not looking for anything serious, the outwardly cheery bachelor can’t help but fall for the beautiful teacher...

With Cutter, the uncannily brilliant dog, the two collaborate to help a troubled student. Their discoveries of scandalous secrets provoke extreme danger. Only when a killer threatens Ria does Liam finally rethink his reluctance to care—he must protect her at all costs. Could she be the one who breaks the girlfriend “jinx”?

“So, Liam, you really were the problem child.”

“That I was.”

“Your parents must be relieved.”

“They are. And I’m sorry I gave them so much trouble. They’re good, good people. It wasn’t their fault. Sometimes if you’re good at something, it can get you in trouble. You follow the path because it’s easy for you, and sometimes you’re in over your head before you realize it.”

He understood then that he’d been sitting here sharing his life story with her easily, without even thinking about it. How had Ria managed that? She’d given him one tiny bit of her own history, and suddenly he was pouring his own out by the bucket? When what he’d meant to do was get that distance between them?

“I’m surprised that Dylan didn’t pour his soul out to you on request,” he said with a grimace.

“I can have that effect,” she said with a laugh. “It’s my honest face.”

Yeah, your face is honest. Among other things. Like beautiful. Fascinating.

Trouble.

* * *

Be sure to check out the rest of the books in this miniseries.

Cutter’s Code: A clever and mysterious canine helps a group of secret operatives crack the case.

* * *

Dear Reader,

When you’ve been through some battles of your own, you tend to be more aware of how dealing with adversity works. In my case, it made me very aware of the truth of the old saying “Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

This was brought home to me once more in the writing of Operation Alpha. Because Liam Burnett, that laid-back, ever-cheerful Texas guy, had always seemed just that to me. It wasn’t until I got into his story that I found, somewhat to my surprise, that there was a great deal I didn’t know about him. That nobody knew about him. And it took the persistence of a good, loving woman and a certain very, very determined dog to get him to face the past he hid behind that carefree facade.

Happy reading!

Justine

Operation Alpha

Justine Davis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUSTINE DAVIS lives on Puget Sound in Washington State, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when she’s not planning, plotting or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course.

Connect with Justine at her website, justinedavis.com, at Twitter.com/justine_d_davis, or on Facebook at Facebook.com/justinedaredavis.

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The biggest love sometimes comes in the smallest packages...

Dexter was a Chihuahua, black with a little white on his neck. He came to us from a puppy mill, although we didn’t know that until later. Despite that start in life, he was such a loving dog in so many ways. He was always giving hugs and kisses. He particularly loved being on his dad’s lap. There is a big picture of him sleeping on his dad’s lap in our living room. When we would watch TV in the dining room, he would want up and then put his head on the table and fall asleep until Dad moved. Many times we stayed there watching TV until late so we wouldn’t disturb him. If he was left in the car even for a few minutes, and whoever was in the car with him told him that Mom or Dad was coming, he would whine so loud you could hear him before you got there.

We were blessed with Dexter’s light in our lives for twelve years. When the end came, we wrapped him in the baby blanket I made him to lay him to rest. There is a marker and a heart made of stones in the backyard, with wildflowers planted around it so every summer Dexter has wildflowers, and a solar cross so he always has light.

We miss him still, and he will never be forgotten.

Peggy, Tim and DeeDee

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Extract

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“Hi, Mr. Foxworth.”

Quinn Foxworth looked at the blonde, sweet-faced teenager standing in the doorway of the Foxworth northwest headquarters. She wasn’t alone, but he focused on her because she looked familiar. He couldn’t quite place her; yet she obviously knew him.

Before he could speak, his dog, Cutter, trotted around the far corner of the building. Foxworth tracker Liam Burnett was at his heels, giving a playful swipe at the dog’s plumed tail. Liam had volunteered for fetch duty this afternoon, and while summer might have ended, it was still warm enough that he’d worked up a sweat. Cutter, however, showed no sign he’d even had a workout.

The instant the dog caught sight—or scent—of the newcomers, his head came up and he broke into a run. He came to a halt at the girl’s feet, sat politely and gave her a tongue-lolling, old-friend sort of greeting. The girl tilted her head to look at him, smiling widely. His tail began to wag happily, again as if this were a long-lost friend.

And suddenly Quinn knew.

“Emily?” he asked, startled.

She turned her gaze back to him. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

“It took a moment. It’s been—”

“Six years. I know.” She reached up and touched the locket that was on a gold chain around her neck. “I still wear it every day.”

Quinn smiled. “Good,” he said quietly to the girl—young woman now—who had been the inspiration for starting the Foxworth Foundation. They had kept in touch by phone and email, but he hadn’t seen her in person since the day Emily Parker and her adoptive parents had come to once more thank him for recovering the precious piece of jewelry that had been all she had from her dead mother. The change in her from age ten to sixteen was astonishing.

Liam had caught up with the dog now, and Emily turned and politely gestured the other person with her forward. “This is Ms. Connelly. She teaches at my school.”

Quinn had only a moment to take in the petite brunette, but he was used to making quick assessments. Dressed in tan jeans and a loose white shirt that had a shine to it, she didn’t look that much older than Emily. But he’d learned not to judge age just by looks; Liam looked years younger than he was. He was also smart and tough, and he had become someone Quinn would trust with his life.

“Ria, please,” the woman said, holding out a hand. Quinn shook it. She had a steady grip, but her hand felt delicate in his.

“Liam Burnett, our tracker and resident tech guy,” he said with a nod in the direction of the man who was quickly yanking his T-shirt back over his head. After, Quinn noted, a moment of stock-still staring at the woman who had arrived with Emily. He had recovered quickly, but Quinn was certain he’d seen it.

“Hi,” Liam said with a nod to them both, “I’d shake hands, but I’ve been throwing his grubby baseball.”

The woman laughed. And Liam seemed to stop breathing. “Not a tennis ball?” she asked.

“He likes those,” Quinn explained, “but he loves the baseball. It’s heavier, goes farther. And it was a gift from my wife’s brother.”

“Doesn’t it hurt his teeth?” Emily asked.

“He knows the difference, knows not to try and catch this one in midair.”

Emily smiled at the dog. “So he’s smart and beautiful.”

“He’s Cutter,” Quinn said simply. “Although judging by his greeting, I’m not sure he needs to be introduced to you. He’s acting like he’s known you all along.”

“I thought he was just friendly,” Emily said, sounding pleased as she stroked the dog’s head. Cutter leaned into her as if she were long-lost family.

“He’s not like that with complete strangers, at least not right away. It’s almost like he knows.”

“Knows?” Emily asked.

“How important you are to us.”

The girl blushed.

“You’re the locket girl,” Liam said suddenly.

Emily looked surprised. “You know about me?”

“We all do,” Liam said with a warm smile. “You’re still Quinn’s favorite case. He says you’re why they made Foxworth official.”

“But you’ve done so many things, big things, much more important than finding my locket,” she said.

“No,” Quinn said gently. “Nothing’s been more important than that. Bigger maybe, louder, but not more important.”

Emily glanced at her teacher. Ria Connelly smiled, and nodded. “As advertised,” she said.

Quinn lifted a brow. “I’ve been telling her about Foxworth,” Emily said. “I think she thought I was exaggerating.”

And why, Quinn wondered, would she be telling one of her teachers about us?

In the moment he thought it, Cutter shifted. He moved over to Ria and glanced up at her, wagging his tail. Clearly both of their visitors were more than accepted—they were welcome. Already. The woman smiled and immediately bent to him, quickly finding that spot behind his right ear that he loved having scratched. The dog blissfully tilted his head into her fingers, but after a moment, as if at some unseen signal the animal suddenly eyed both women intently. And then he turned and, in front of both of them, sat facing Quinn.

And gave him The Look.

Well, well.

“Come in,” Quinn said. “Hayley will want to meet you.”

The girl smiled even wider. “I want to meet her, too. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the wedding.”

“We understood. A chance to go to Australia doesn’t come along every day.”

“No. Oh, and my folks said to say hello.”

“How are they?”

“They’re good.” Emily looked at him steadily for a moment before adding, “And I love them very much. I’m very lucky to have them, that they chose me.”

Quinn felt the last bit of concern he’d always carried about that fade away. The Hardings were wonderful people, but he’d always worried if the devastated child who had lost first her father, and then the mother she had been so close to, would be able to really adjust. It was a credit to them that she’d gone from withdrawn child to an obviously bright, outgoing teenager.

He smiled at both women—for the ten-year-old he remembered had certainly become that—as he gestured them inside. Cutter and his ball-thrower followed, and Quinn noted with interest that Liam’s gaze was once more on the woman accompanying the teenager.

“Hayley’s got lemonade out on the patio. Let’s join her.” Quinn put a gentle hand on Emily’s shoulder as he added, “And then you can tell us what you need us for.”

The girl looked up at him, clearly startled that he’d guessed this wasn’t just a social call. “I’ll explain later,” he said as Cutter escorted the women inside.

Quinn held back a moment. “Might want to work on that nonexistent poker face of yours,” he whispered to Liam.

Liam grimaced. Quinn grinned.

“Don’t blame you,” he said. And he didn’t. Ria Connelly had the same kind of attractiveness Hayley did, the quiet kind that wasn’t glamorous or flashy but lasted forever.

But he also knew—because Hayley often pointed it out—that Liam was rather determinedly uninvolved, watching with amusement as first Quinn, then fellow Foxworth colleague Teague Johnson, followed by their friend Detective Brett Dunbar and finally Hayley’s long-lost brother Walker had joined the ranks of the attached, thanks in large part to the uncannily clever and apparently matchmaking Cutter. And that didn’t even include the couples he’d brought together on their cases.

Quinn had even overheard him warning the dog once. Don’t you be turning those eyes on me, hound. I’ve tried that, and it always ends badly.

Quinn knew the bare bones of Liam’s story, what could be gleaned from dry, emotionless reports of facts and what he’d had to know before taking him on at Foxworth but not much more. Someday he was going to get all of it out of the guy, Quinn thought as he shut the door behind them. Or more likely Hayley would; she had them all confiding in her. Well, except Rafe, but he didn’t confide in anyone.

In the meantime, it was clear Emily had a problem she thought they could solve. Or perhaps it was Ria. Or both, he thought, remembering how the dog had sat in front of both of them. Cutter hadn’t been wrong yet. Which he was going to have to explain yet again, he thought as he led them out to the patio to join his wife.

Life with a dog who kept forgetting he was just a dog was very interesting.

Chapter 2

Cleaned up and cooled down now, Liam Burnett stood in the bathroom and stared at his own rueful expression in the mirror. He ran a hand over his hair. He’d been letting it grow out a bit from his usual buzz cut. He hated haircuts and usually just did it himself, short enough he didn’t have to worry about it for a while. But now he laughingly admitted it was fun, because he went to Teague’s fiancée Laney’s dog grooming shop and she did it with her variable-length clippers, shorter on the sides, a little longer on top. He liked her, and it was fun telling people he got his hair cut at a dog groomer’s.

Teague had gotten really lucky, he thought. Laney was the real deal. And good for him. The frequent sparring partner who helped Liam stay sharp was a good guy. The ex-marine with the easy grin deserved to be happy. Former marine, Liam corrected. Both Teague and Rafe had sternly told him there was no such thing as an ex-marine.

And what do you deserve, exactly?

He answered his own question. Not that.

He thought of the group out on the patio. The girl with the locket, who had started Quinn Foxworth on the path that had led him to the Foxworth Foundation. It was the story they had each heard when they’d joined up, to illustrate that it wasn’t the size of the case that determined what they took on, or the importance of the person. To Foxworth, helping a ten-year-old girl devastated by the loss of a single memento was just as important as taking down a crooked politician.

And then there was the woman. He didn’t remember ever having a teacher who looked like her. That sleek swing of dark hair that gleamed in the sun, those eyes the color of today’s sky, that petite, nicely curved figure...nope, nothing like that in his memory banks. Of course, if he’d paid more attention in school he might have noticed if one had been there. Not to mention he never would have started down that road to—

He caught himself before going down that snake hole. Barely, because he’d gotten out of the habit. His life now was good, so good he rarely thought of those days anymore, the days before Quinn had yanked him off a bad path. Had given him a final choice.

“And saved your sorry ass,” he muttered to the reflection in the mirror.

And that, he thought, was enough self-absorption for the week. He wasn’t sure what had set him off now. Maybe it was the girl, Emily. Maybe he was just hoping she wasn’t in trouble. But she’d seemed happy enough. Maybe the problem wasn’t hers.

The teacher? Had Emily brought her because she was the one with the problem Foxworth could fix?

He found he liked that idea even less. Which in turn unsettled him even more. She was a complete stranger; why would it bother him to think she had a problem that would need Foxworth? He was always glad to help people in trouble, he loved what they did, but this was a different sort of feeling, and he didn’t like it.

He caught himself looking in the mirror again. His mirror gazing was usually limited to making sure nothing was grossly wrong, like dirt on his nose or pizza sauce on his cheek. Yet he stood there wondering how he had appeared to her, all grubby and sweaty from playing with Cutter.

All right, that’s it. Now you’ve gone over the edge. Get the heck out of here.

As he donned clean clothes from his locker on the back wall of the bathroom, he pondered. Maybe he should just go about his business. Maybe Quinn wouldn’t need or want him on this one, he reasoned. Emily was special to his boss, being the first case and all. He’d probably want to handle whatever this was himself.

Besides, Liam had other things to do. Some stuff to send to Ty. He and the tech guy at Foxworth headquarters in St. Louis had been working on improving the in-house tracking system, installed on all the Foxworth vehicles. And he hadn’t been to the shooting range in a while; he needed to do that, too. He’d never had to actually use the handgun Quinn insisted he be proficient with, but it had been close a couple of times and he wanted to be sure he was up to speed. Even though he was much more at home with rifles, he’d turned out to be a decent shot with the Colt. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to practice. And he’d promised Rafe he’d do an electronics check on the backup generator while Rafe was off in Alaska on that sabotage case. So he could do that, and then he could...he could...

His list of reasons to avoid joining the group on the patio sputtered to a halt. He was trying to decide where to start when a low woof outside the bathroom door startled him. He hastily yanked on his boots—custom-made back home, his one splurge when he’d accepted the job here—and opened the door. Cutter stood there, waiting.

“What’s up, hound?”

The dog turned and trotted a few steps toward the patio, stopped and looked back over his shoulder. The customary “follow me” canine body language. Cutter’s vocabulary was much larger than most dogs, and given that Liam’s folks raised them he had some basis for that observation. But this one was pretty standard to most dogs. What wasn’t standard was how impossibly inventive the animal was when it came to getting his point across.

And how impossibly stubborn he was when it came to getting people to do what he wanted.

“Boss didn’t ask for me,” Liam pointed out, even though he knew resisting was useless if the dog’s mind was set. And the look Cutter gave him then was the canine equivalent of “Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?”

Maybe Quinn had sent the dog for him, to hurry him up, Liam thought.

He had a sudden vision of taking this guy home to meet his parents’ rather rambunctious pack of mostly tracking hounds and hunting dogs. Cutter would have them organized and herding longhorns, whether they were bred for it or not.

The image gave him the laugh he needed and, feeling silly over his uncharacteristic burst of self-contemplation, he followed Cutter who, as he’d expected, headed straight for the patio where the others were gathered.

* * *

Ria Connelly was glad she had a glass of Hayley Foxworth’s delicious lemonade—no powdered mix here—to focus on when the Foxworths’ dog came back. Because he had with him the other Foxworth...agent? Operative? Whatever they called themselves. The one she’d met outside. Liam. Who had obviously been playing with said dog quite cheerfully. Part of his job? Maybe, but judging by the way he’d been laughing as they came around the building, it was a part he enjoyed.

Of course, Cutter was a very beautiful dog, with a lot of personality. She’d seen that even in the short time she’d been here. She liked the way his head and shoulders were black but the color shifted to a reddish brown over the rest of his body, liked the thick, soft fur and most of all the amber-flecked dark eyes, so wise and knowing.

And she wasn’t usually fanciful about dogs, but this one seemed different to her. If he was a person she would have said he had an old soul. So maybe that applied to dogs, too.

As for his ball-throwing partner...

She told herself it wasn’t that delightful grin or hair in that style she liked—short but a bit longer on top, where it looked like you could muss it any which way and it would still look intentional...

And thoughts of messing with his hair led down roads she had no business going. He didn’t look that much older than some of her students. But, then, that was often said about her, too.

Besides, it wasn’t that at all. It was simply that she liked that he’d been so happy over a simple thing like playing with a dog. Her world seemed to be overflowing with teenage angst these days, and seeing somebody so pleased with such a simple thing was like an antidote. And it had nothing to do with the leanly muscled body or the chest—and abs—that had been on display before he’d pulled his shirt back on. Hastily enough that she found the seeming self-consciousness rather charming until she remembered this was, after all, his place of work.

When Quinn gestured to him to take a seat, he headed for one of the empty ones near his boss. The dog got in his way, though, and they seemed to try to dodge each other for a moment before he finally ended up sitting down in the chair closest to her. He gave the dog a look she couldn’t define, except to say it was as wary as if the animal had suddenly morphed into a wolf.

“Cutter seems to think we’ll need you for this,” Hayley said, sounding amused, although Ria wasn’t certain about what. She had only just met Quinn’s wife, a pretty woman with lovely green eyes, but she already liked her.

“Does he now,” Liam said with an expressively wry quirk of his mouth. Ria wondered where he was from, what place had put that slight drawl in his voice. “And just what is ‘this’?” Liam asked, shifting his gaze from the dog to Hayley.

“We’re about to find out,” Quinn said equably. He looked at their two visitors. “Which of you has the problem?”

“Neither of us, really,” Emily said with a glance at Ria.

Ria smiled. “I’m just the wheelman, as it were. But I understand her concern.”

She also had her doubts that this vague, nebulous job was something an operation the apparent size of Foxworth would take on. This building of theirs was expansive and well equipped, including a small kitchen and bath, a living area with fireplace that could be in any nice home and even a bedroom in the back corner. She also thought she’d caught a glimpse of a helicopter in that warehouse-looking building at the other end of the gravel parking area. Foxworth was much bigger than she’d expected.

Emily’s explanation played back in her head. They used insurance money to start it, Mr. Foxworth and his sister. Their parents were killed by terrorists.

So he understood loss. But even that seemed on a much grander scale. And yet...

He never belittled me or the smallness of my request. He understood how important my mother’s locket was to me, how it was the only thing I wanted in life, to have it back, because it was the only thing I had left of hers. And he found it. He turned the thieves over to the police but only after he got the locket back.

Emily’s heartfelt retelling of her story had been the final factor in Ria’s decision to at least give this a try. And that’s what she should be focused on—Emily’s worries, not the distraction of the sandy-haired guy with the quirky grin sitting too close to her.

“Emily?” Ria liked how Quinn said it. He was a big, powerful-looking guy, but he wasn’t afraid to be kind or gentle.

“I think,” Emily began, hesitated, then plunged ahead. “I think a friend of mine is in trouble. Maybe bad trouble. Will you help?”

Ria thought asking that before explaining was a bit hasty. But she had, it seemed, underestimated Foxworth. It was Hayley who answered, as if she knew perfectly well what her husband would say. As she apparently did.

“Of course.”

Chapter 3

“His name is Dylan,” Emily said. “Dylan Oakley.”

“What makes you think he’s in trouble?” Quinn asked.

“He’s been very different lately. I mean, he has reason, but...”

When she stopped, swallowing tightly, Ria knew why and stepped in. “His mother was killed in March, in a hiking accident.”

It was a moment before anyone spoke.

“You know him? Is he a student of yours, as well?” Quinn asked Ria.

She nodded. “I’ve had him in classes for two years. And the difference in him is...marked.”

“And it’s been getting worse lately, not better,” Emily said.

“Sometimes it happens that way,” Hayley said, her tone gentle with understanding. “Grief has its own path, and it’s different for everyone.”

Emily’s gaze shifted to Quinn. He nodded. “She knows, too.”

Even the dog sat up from his spot near Emily and plopped his chin on the girl’s knee, making her smile as she reached out to stroke his fur.

Ria felt oddly out of place. As if she’d stumbled into a club she gratefully lacked the qualifications for. She’d never lost anyone really close to her. Even both sets of her grandparents were still kicking, a couple of them off playing in a seniors tennis tournament in California. Her parents were still running the family hardware stores and her two older brothers were busy with their lives—one producing the much-desired grandkids for the parents while he managed the accounting for the stores, the other following his dream of being an airline pilot. She had aunts and uncles scattered all over the country, and cousins abounded.

She knew she was lucky, but nothing had brought it home like this moment, sitting here among people who had dealt with the kind of loss she’d never had to face. Yet.

Ria toyed with one of her earrings, the tiny silver crossed saw and hammer that was the logo for her family’s stores. She glanced at Liam, wondering. But it was there, too, that look. That understanding. It changed his open, innocent appearance, and suddenly he didn’t seem quite so young. But his expression was also tinged with something else. In fact, for a moment she thought she saw guilt before he lowered his gaze.

And belatedly she realized that when she had looked at him, he’d already been looking at her. She gave herself an inward shake and focused on the matter at hand.

“But Dylan used to talk to me,” Emily was saying. “Because I got it. I knew how it felt, losing his mom. But he stopped. And he doesn’t even talk to his best friends anymore.”

“He’s a smart kid and used to be well prepared. But his grades have dropped dramatically in the last couple of months,” Ria said. “He’s even missed some classes, which he never did even right after she died. In fact, he seemed to dive into his studies even more.”

“It’s a good way to avoid thinking about it,” Quinn said. His voice held the self-knowledge they all seemed to share but her.

“I read tons of books,” Emily said.

“So did I, after my mother died,” Hayley said. “It was my escape.”

Emily looked at Liam. “What did you do?”

He gave the girl a startled glance. “What makes you think—” He stopped, and Ria saw his jaw tighten and then release as he said, “Computers. And sometimes I’d take off into the hills for a few days. Find something to track.”

There was silence for a moment. Ria looked at her student. She also obviously recognized he’d been through this particular hell. But, then, Emily was very perceptive.

“He’s also dropped his other activities,” Ria said. “He played baseball in a local league and was good at it, but he didn’t sign up this year.”

“And he was just starting to get really interested in martial arts,” Emily said. “He was all excited, looking for a good school or coach or whatever they call them, and now he won’t even talk about it.”

“Withdrawing from life,” Hayley said with a frown.

“Exactly,” Emily said. “I’m worried about him. I even—”

She broke off, looking embarrassed.

“Truth is best, if we’re to help.” Quinn’s tone was mild, nonjudgmental.

“I snuck a look at his phone,” the girl admitted. “I was afraid he might be...thinking of doing something.”

She’d told Ria about her surreptitious checking of text messages and web history, and while Ria couldn’t officially condone the sneakiness and invasion of privacy, she understood the girl’s motivation.

“I didn’t find anything,” Emily said quickly. “Nothing ominous, anyway.”

“No searching for suicide hotlines or methods,” Ria put in, since that had been her main concern.

“Or bomb-building information?” Quinn asked, his voice gentle.

Emily’s eyebrows shot up, and Ria guessed hers had, too.

“Of course not! Dylan would never. Ever.” Emily was vehement.

Ria didn’t blame him for asking. How many times had people said, after some disaster, that they’d had no idea, that they couldn’t believe their nice, quiet neighbor/friend/relative could have done such a thing?

“No insult intended, Emily. Just eliminating possibilities. Like before.”

Ria saw the girl let out a breath, and then she nodded. Emily had told her how Quinn had asked a ton of questions, some of them shocking to her. But one had led to the awful realization that someone she’d thought a friend had been one of the thieves who had broken into their house on a night when they’d known she and her adoptive family would be gone.

“Here, I can show you.”

Emily sent a picture she’d taken of Dylan at a baseball game last year to Quinn’s phone, and followed it with one she’d surreptitiously taken just last week. Ria had seen them both, and the change in the boy was startling. He’d gone from a healthy, carefree, good-looking young man with a fun-loving air to a shadowed, hunched, too-thin boy who looked nothing less than haunted.

Hayley looked at them as they came in, and Ria saw her eyes widen as she took in an audible breath.

“I see why you’re concerned,” she said.

“I think he’s not eating, too,” Emily said.

“He’s lost weight,” Ria confirmed. “And he didn’t have much to spare, since he’d already lost some after his mom died.”

“He said that was his dad’s lousy cooking,” Emily said.

“He told you that?” It was the first time Liam had spoken. Emily nodded.

“Yes. We talked a lot, back then. And really, if he’d just stopped talking to me, I would have understood. I would have thought I was just a reminder of loss he didn’t want to think about anymore. And that’s fine. You have to do what you have to do to get through.”

Quinn gave her a long, steady look. “You,” he said, “have become everything I ever saw in you, my young friend.”

Emily blushed, but she was smiling widely. And in that moment Ria quite liked Quinn Foxworth. Quinn nodded at the girl, and she picked up where she’d left off.

“But he’s quit talking to everyone. And sometimes after school he goes up to the lookout—that’s a spot with a bench on the hill behind the school—and just sits there. For hours.”

“Sounds like a guy with a lot on his mind,” Liam said.

“Has he seen a counselor?” Hayley asked.

“Yes,” Ria said. “I referred him to the therapist who consults for the school. He saw Dylan for a couple of months after his mother was killed. Of course, we didn’t discuss the actual sessions, but he said he was doing well. But then they stopped.”

Emily looked at Ria. “He stopped going because his dad wouldn’t let him go anymore. And wouldn’t let his little brother Kevin go at all, said he didn’t need it.”

“Sounds like Dad could’ve used some counseling,” Liam said rather sourly. Ria nearly smiled at that.

“And four months later he’s like that,” Emily said, gesturing with her phone, which still showed that last, haggard photograph.

“Something’s eatin’ at that boy,” Liam said. “He looks like he’s carrying the world.”

“I don’t know what you can do,” Emily said to him. “But—”

“We’re Foxworth. We’ll think of something. Right, boss?”

Ria found herself smiling. She liked Liam’s easy, kind reassurance to the girl and the quiet but obvious respect for Quinn that she had a feeling was only partly because he was his boss. And she liked the hint of a drawl, as well. She wanted to ask where he was from, but this didn’t seem the time. Not to mention he unsettled her a bit too much.

“We will certainly try,” Quinn agreed. “That boy needs some help.”

“I just don’t know who he’ll take it from,” Ria said. “We’ve all tried. Almost everybody he knows has.”

“Maybe,” Hayley said slowly, “it needs to be someone he doesn’t know.”

Quinn looked at his wife. “Meaning?”

“People under stress sometimes resist someone pushing to ‘help.’ And it can be easier to open up to someone who doesn’t know about all your baggage.”

“That’s true,” Emily said and then looked at Quinn. “Remember how I poured my heart out to you when my poor parents couldn’t even get me to tell them what was wrong? I was afraid of hurting their feelings by wanting this—” she fingered the locket “—back so much.”

Quinn looked thoughtful. Ria thought she saw him flick a glance at Liam, but then he quickly got down to business. Details like Dylan’s address, his family situation—just his father, little brother and a distant uncle left now—and the names of his friends.

“I’ll get on those names,” Liam said. “See if anything pops.”

“Liam’s not just our best tracker in the physical world,” Quinn explained at her questioning look. “If it’s out there in cyberspace, he’ll find it.”

“Or Ty will, but it won’t come to that,” Liam said with a grin. That grin.

“Ty?” Emily asked.

“Our tech guy at headquarters,” Hayley said. She smiled. “They have a bit of a competition going on. But together, there’s never been anything they couldn’t find.”

“He won’t know, will he?” Emily asked anxiously. “If Dylan knew we were poking into his life...”

“Not a trace,” Liam assured her.

Quinn went on then, asking about any new friends Dylan might now be hanging around with that he hadn’t before.

“None at school at least,” Emily said with assurance. “Cove Academy is small, I’d have noticed.”

“We’ll have to see about elsewhere, then,” Quinn said briskly.

“Dylan’s good with tech stuff,” Ria said with a quick glance at Liam that felt oddly as if she were sneaking a peek at something tempting but forbidden. “And math. But he does—or did—well in English, too. He won a state prize last term for an essay he wrote.” Her mouth tightened. “His mother died the same day it was announced. He never even went to get it.”

“Does he drive?” Liam asked.

“He doesn’t have his license yet, just his permit,” Emily said.

“So no car?”

Emily frowned. “No. He thought he would get his mom’s car, after, but his dad got rid of it.” The frown deepened. “Practically gave it away, Dylan said. He was really upset.”

“His father was grieving, too,” Ria said. “Maybe he couldn’t bear to see it.”

“I get that, but he should have thought how Dylan would feel, too.”

“Clear thinking and grieving don’t always go together,” Liam said. “Sometimes they fight each other so hard neither wins, but you lose.”

Ria drew back slightly. That had been an almost lyrical way of putting it. And she saw by Emily’s expression that he had reached her. Slowly the girl nodded.

“So what do we do?” Liam asked, looking at his boss.

“Computers, martial arts, a stranger,” Quinn said, summing up the discussion as he looked at Liam. “I think you may need to go back to school.”

“What?” Liam looked so startled Ria almost laughed.

“We’ll think of a good cover. Ria will help, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” she said, barely masking her amusement at his reaction.

Then she realized that this meant she would now apparently have Liam Burnett in her world. Up close and personal.

And that was a lot more unsettling than funny.

Chapter 4

Liam caught himself, realized he’d once more been staring at his laptop screen without seeing a thing. This was at least the third time since he’d come upstairs to begin this session that his mind had drifted off task and started wandering through the underbrush.

“How’s it coming?”

He managed not to jump when Hayley spoke from barely three feet behind him. He had no idea how long she’d been in the room. Talk about woolgathering, as his grandmother always used to say.

“It’s coming,” he said cautiously. “I have the basics. Dylan used to be semi-active on social media, even after a break when his mother died, but faded out over the summer.”

“That fits. Withdrawing.”

He nodded. “No real official, cop-type trouble that I could find.”

“Quinn called Brett, so he’s checking that for us,” she said.

He nodded and went on. “Friends are pretty typical. Lots of selfies and talking to each other. A couple of mentions of him but mostly asking where he is or if he’s coming somewhere. Then, later, a couple more mad because he didn’t show up somewhere he was supposed to.”

“Progression,” Hayley said.

Liam nodded. “Emily asked about him, as well, a couple of times, but she apparently isn’t much for yammering on social media.”

“I’m not surprised. Ria said she was focused more on her studies.”

She had? He didn’t remember that.

Probably because you were too busy trying not to stare at her. You’d better start thinking of her as Emily’s teacher, nothing more.

He made himself focus and continued. “When she does post something, it’s usually not fluff. Serious stuff. She’s big into animal welfare, supporting the local shelter, that kind of thing.”

“Speaking of which,” Hayley said, “Cutter’s stuff is ready.”

He blinked. “What?”

“His go bag. You can keep it in your truck for when he’s with you. And if you need to take him home with you, we’ve cleared it with your apartment manager.” Liam stared at her, brow furrowed. Hayley tilted her head. “He’s going with you, remember?”

“He is?”

She drew back slightly, looking concerned. “Do you not remember that discussion?”

He flushed because the only answer was no. He didn’t remember much after Quinn had said he was going to school. Ria Connelly’s school.

He snapped his gaze back to his laptop before she could read anything in his expression. “Must have zoned out. Sorry.”

“Hmm.” Hayley didn’t say anything more, but then she wouldn’t. She explained patiently, “You’re taking him because Emily said Dylan really likes dogs, but his dad would never let him have one.”

He seized on the mention of Dylan’s father to get past the awkward moment.

“Haven’t found much on Dad in the public record. A couple of traffic tickets and one road rage incident that was mentioned in a police activity blog, but I don’t know yet if he was the aggressor.”

“Brett will find that out for us,” Hayley said. “When?”

“Since his wife’s death,” Liam said, confirming what he knew she suspected. “Before that, he seems squeaky clean.”

“So those incidents could be grief messing with his judgment.”

“Could be,” he agreed and went on. “He has no social accounts. In fact, he doesn’t have an online presence at all that I can find.”

“Emily did say that Dylan says his father’s a bit of a technophobe. Doesn’t even have a smartphone.”

“You still usually end up somewhere, via somebody else, friend or job, something. But I haven’t dug deep yet. Professional sites, checking for fake names or profiles with the same IP, all that.”

“If he’s a credit counselor, that’s someplace to start.”

“He is?”

Hayley’s mouth quirked. “Missed that, too?”

“I guess I was already thinking about this,” he muttered, gesturing at the laptop. It wasn’t really true, but since he wasn’t even sure himself what had him so rattled he couldn’t explain. It would be fine, he’d get in in some capacity, try to get Dylan to open up to him, they’d put Emily’s mind at ease and he’d be done.

“We’ve been brainstorming how to get you and Dylan together,” she said.

He gave her a sideways look. “Just don’t say I look young enough to go in as a student.”

Hayley laughed. “While you could probably do it, we decided it would take too long and stand out too much if you came in as the new kid and zeroed in on him. We need a way to get Dylan to be interested right off.”

“Cutter?” he asked. “Isn’t that what that’s about?”

“Yes, but even clever as you both are that could take a while.”

Liam’s mouth twisted up at one corner. “Him, yes. Me, not so sure.”

“That’s okay,” Hayley said breezily. “We’re sure.”

He smiled at her easy, sincere compliment. But before he could respond there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Quinn, Emily and her teacher—somehow thinking of her that way wasn’t helping as much as he thought it would—came into the big meeting room. Quinn and Emily immediately gravitated to the big wall of windows that looked out on the clearing. Quinn must have told her about the eagles because she was scanning the tree line intently.

“Dylan said his mom loved eagles,” Emily said sadly. “That’s why she loved hiking so much. She loved seeing them out in the wild.”

Quinn gave the girl a one-armed hug. He left her to watch for the eagles as he turned to head toward Hayley and Liam.

“I think we’ve got it,” he told them as he joined them on the other side of the room, where their tech equipment was set up.

Liam had the feeling he should have stuck around for that discussion downstairs, instead of bolting to another room. Then again, he’d clearly been so distracted he wouldn’t have been much use anyway. He glanced at Emily’s teacher—no, still not working—wondering how such a petite woman could take up so much space in a room this big.

She smiled at him. And suddenly Liam felt like he had the time he’d gone to the mountains above Denver, simply because he’d never seen mountains so high in person. He had found himself out of breath merely going up a flight of stairs, but was never sure if it was the exertion or the view.

“Liam never quits once he’s on the scent,” Quinn was saying, in the tone of a promise.

He yanked his gaze back to his boss. “What do I have to do?” he asked warily.

“Brush up on your judo and Muay Thai. Ria’s going to get you in as an after-school coach.”

He blinked. “But I don’t know anything about teaching it.”

“Ria will help with that.”

Oh, great.

“You’ll manage,” Quinn said at his expression. Then he added with a grin, “After all, you were taught by one of the best.”

The old joke—he’d been taught mostly by Quinn himself—helped him get a grip. “And put him on the ground more than once,” he pointed out, his customary response.

“That’s when I knew you were ready,” Quinn said. “And you’ve got that sudden-strike thing going for you.”

“Sudden strike?” Ria asked.

Quinn’s grin widened. Emily had just rejoined them, and he gave her a wink as he answered. “He strolls in all relaxed and leisurely, lolls around like he couldn’t move fast even if he wanted to. Just when you start thinking he’s half-asleep he explodes and takes you out before you can blink.”

Ria laughed. It was a light, lilting sound that gave him that high-altitude feeling again, even more than Quinn’s warming words.

“I’ll remember that,” she said.

“Dylan will like that,” Emily said. “He really did want to learn. It’s the only thing he still mentions now and then.”

“And teaching something concrete, physical-like—that is different than having to teach English or math or history,” Ria said in a reassuring tone. “You can actually show what needs to be done.”

Liam just looked at her for a moment. Made himself do it. Made himself ignore that odd feeling. No one spoke. If he was going to do this job—and it looked like he had no choice—it might be best to draw a line right here and now. He couldn’t get it done if he let her keep him off balance. He didn’t like admitting that this woman he hadn’t even known existed two hours ago could do that, but there it was. So he needed some space. He’d figure out why later.

“Martial arts,” he said formally, “are as much mental as physical. If you don’t understand the concept behind them—and each one is different—you won’t be able to utilize them to their full potential. You can go through the moves and even be effective, but unless you understand the mind-set you’ll only be mimicking. It won’t be instinctive, and it may let you down when you need it most.”

She was staring at him. He supposed it was because he’d given what was, for him, practically a speech. And then she surprised him.

“Your drawl was gone.”

His mouth twisted. Figures a teacher—an English teacher—wouldn’t like his drawl. So he exaggerated it when he said, “I c’n actually talk like a guy who done went to school, iffen I need to.”

She drew back slightly. When she spoke, it was in the same kind of tone and cadence he had used in his little speech on the martial arts. “And I put on glasses when I feel I need to be taken more seriously by people who tend to judge on appearance alone. That was not a criticism. Nor was it an assumption that you were not educated based on a regional accent. In fact, I rather missed it.”

He’d started to tighten up when it was clear she was mimicking him, but her last sentence disarmed him.

“And might I suggest,” she added, “that you remember that speech? It would be a great introduction to what you’re trying to teach.” She looked at Quinn then. “Was that the verbal version of that sudden strike?”

Quinn was watching them with amusement, Hayley with great interest. Too much interest. So, he realized belatedly, was Cutter. Oh, no. Uh-uh. No way.

“I’m not sure,” Quinn said. “I’ve never seen anybody get to him like that before.”

Because nobody has, Liam thought with an inward grimace, glad she was still looking at Quinn.

“Should I be flattered, or worried?” Ria asked.

“That,” Hayley said, “I think is going to be up to you to figure out.”

Liam wanted to ask which of them she meant. But he didn’t, because he was afraid she meant the both of them. Together. And being linked with that woman, even jokingly, set off alarms.

He shifted his gaze to Cutter, who was looking up at him with his most innocent expression. But the knowledge of the dog’s track record was emblazoned in his mind as if in neon. Glowing. Immutable.

Oh, no, you don’t, hound. This is not happening.

Chapter 5

Liam was a little surprised at how easily it all came together. Within two days Ria had the okay for him to utilize the school’s gym for after-school meetings starting on Monday.

He looked at her, sitting in a shaft of sunlight at the outdoor coffee stand a couple of miles down the road from the Cove Academy, where they’d met to work out the details before he arrived at the school. The plan was to spend this weekend working up his approach and to get as many tips from her about teaching as he could. It was only Saturday and he already knew he was going to regret that plan.

“That was quick,” he said when she told him things were set.

“All I had to do was ask,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. A vanilla blend, he noted, wondering if it was significant. He hadn’t slept worth a damn, so went for a double shot of espresso.

Her hair gleamed dark and smooth, those blue eyes were thankfully—or maybe not, since he couldn’t tell where she was looking—masked with sunglasses. Since he was wearing them, as well, they could easily be staring at each other and neither of them would know it.

“Your Head of School knows I’m not really a teacher, right? Just a guy who knows some stuff?”

Ria nodded. “She knows. And she wants to meet you first, of course. But I think what really sold her was your little speech.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I quoted it to her. She was intrigued.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Or the fact that she remembered enough to quote him. “I’d say your boss trusts you.”

“Dr. Halvorson picks instructors very carefully,” she told him. “She knows what she wants, and she generally gets it.”

No, he thought, she wouldn’t be staring at him. That seemed to be only his problem. Despite convincing himself she really wasn’t all that, and that his reaction had been a fluke. He’d even thought about calling a couple of casual female acquaintances, thinking maybe an unfussy, no-strings date would set him to rights again. But when he realized how long it had been, he discarded that idea as unwise. He wasn’t sure he was interested anyway.

“How did you end up as a teacher?” he asked, trying to divert his thoughts.

He saw her brows rise above the dark glasses. “I ended up as a teacher because that was always my goal.”

“Always?”

She nodded. “It’s all I ever wanted to be, since sixth grade and Mr. Matta. He made everything come so alive that kids ran to get to class not because they were late but because they loved it. That’s the kind of teacher I try to be.”

And if I’d had you, I might have paid more attention...

“From what Emily has said, you are.”

“I hope so. I’m lucky to be at Cove. Once we get through Dr. Halvorson’s lengthy process, we pretty much have free rein. And she’s always open to suggestions like this one.” She flashed a grin that nearly stopped his breath. Again. “And that you’re volunteering helps on the budget end.”

“Things are tight?”

“Not really, but she does have an administrative board to account to.” She took another sip of coffee. “How does Foxworth do that, anyway? Do what they do, for free?”

Glad for the ordinary question, Liam answered easily. “Quinn’s sister. Financial genius. Took the insurance money from their parents and parlayed it into enough to keep them going probably forever.”

“What a sad way to start but a wonderful tribute.”

He nodded. “They’re good people. The best.”

“How did you end up there?”

“Long story.”

She studied him silently for a moment. And he realized sunglasses didn’t matter when you could actually feel someone’s gaze on you.

“Unpleasant story?” she finally asked.

“Could have been.”

He was dodging, he knew it. How he’d come to Foxworth wasn’t something he dwelt on often. And then it struck him that this might be the perfect way to get that distance he wanted between them. Because he could already tell Ria Connelly was generally a straight-arrow sort, had probably never been in trouble in her life. If he told her the truth, she’d put the distance there herself.

If he told the full truth, she’d probably get up, walk away and never look back.

But then the whole case would be compromised. He’d be letting Foxworth down and, worse, Emily, which he had a feeling Quinn would not forget soon.

The sunglasses didn’t mask at all that she was staring at him now. It was as if her steady gaze had some sort of tangible energy, and he could feel it flowing toward him.

“Not into mutual sharing, huh?” She said it lightly, but he had a feeling there was a sting in it anyway. “Dr. Halvorson may ask, you know. She’s very thorough. Besides, once you’re there Quinn thinks it will speed things up with Dylan if he thinks we’re friends. And a friend would know that.”

He let out a breath. Went for the digest version. “I’m good with computers. Good enough to get into some trouble. I was on a wrong path. Quinn gave me a chance to go another way.”

There was more to it than that, so much more, but he couldn’t go there now. He had a job to do, Foxworth had trusted him with it and he would get it done.

“And you took it.”

“Quinn is...very convincing.”

And the thought of being locked up was pretty persuasive, too.

“He seems like a very solid guy.”

“He is. Like a rock. I owe him—” he had to unexpectedly stop, swallow, before he could finish “—everything.”

She smiled at him then, a soft, warm kind of smile that, like her stare, he felt in an almost physical way. “Obviously you justified his faith. You should be proud.”

Well, that wasn’t the result he’d intended. “I was sitting in lockup, looking at serious jail time,” he pointed out. “I’m just grateful.”

“Which also takes a certain amount of grace and class, Liam Burnett. Whether you admit it or not, it wasn’t all Quinn.”

He nearly gaped at her. How had she turned that around? He tells her he nearly went to jail—in fact, he had for a couple of days before Quinn had stepped in—and she’s complimenting him?

“You must be a heck of a teacher,” he said with a rueful quirk of his mouth.

“I’m good,” she said easily. “Very good.”

She said it with a quiet, humble sort of confidence, the kind that had nothing to prove. And he found himself smiling at her.

“I believe that.”

“I assume you hacked somebody?” she asked. “Who? Or what?”

Again the possibilities raced through his mind. He could tell her about the time he hacked school systems, to tweak the grades of student customers who paid him according to what grade they wanted. Or later when he’d rigged a contest’s random draw to win. Or more, all strictly for personal benefit. The ones he wasn’t proud of.

Or he could tell her about the ones that had made Quinn think he might fit at Foxworth. When he’d screwed with the records of his hometown’s biggest bully and the guy had ended up on a community service road crew, taking bullying from guys much bigger and tougher than him. Or the county guy who kept harassing his parents over a property line, despite their irrefutable proof he was wrong. Or the bank that happened to be run by the county guy’s brother-in-law and had started giving his folks grief.

But the last answer was the one that explained everything, so, with a wry expression and raised brows, he gave it to her.

“At one point... Foxworth.”

She blinked. Reached up and pulled off her sunglasses as if to stare at him more incredulously.

“You hacked Foxworth?”

He nodded. “I didn’t believe anybody would really do what they do—fight for people in the right, big or small, and do it for only the promise of help in turn down the line.” His mouth curved into a smile as he remembered his own disbelief. “But they do,” he added softly.

“Let me get this right...you hacked Foxworth, and Quinn hired you?”

“Crazy, huh?”

“Or very, very smart,” she said. “His gamble obviously paid off.”

“But it’ll never be paid back.” He grinned. “My folks think he walks on water. They were sure I was headed straight to hell. I was the black sheep of the family, no doubt.”

“Siblings?”

“Two of each. Couple of successful corporate types, an oil exec and a doctor.”

“So you really were the problem child.”

“That I was.”

“They must be relieved.”

“They are. And I’m sorry I gave them so much trouble. They’re good, good people. It wasn’t their fault. Sometimes, if you’re good at something, it can get you in trouble. You follow the path because it’s easy for you, and sometimes you’re in over your head before you realize it.”

He realized then that he’d been sitting here sharing his life story with her, easily, without even thinking about it. How had she managed that? She’d given him one tiny bit of her own history, and suddenly he was pouring his own out by the bucket? When what he’d meant to do was get that distance between them?

“I’m surprised that Dylan didn’t pour his soul out to you on request,” he said with a grimace.

“I can have that effect,” she said with a laugh. “It’s my honest face.”

Yeah, your face is honest. Among other things. Like beautiful. Fascinating.

Trouble.

“I only wish Dylan would,” she went on. “I’m worried about him.”

Time to get down to business, Liam thought. Quickly he updated her on what they’d learned, which wasn’t much more than he’d gleaned that first day. Quinn had advised him to leave it there for now, until he got a feel for things after he met Dylan. His assessment, Quinn had said, would determine if they picked up the pace.

“Tell me more about him,” he said then. “The more I know, the better chance I have of getting through. And maybe, more important, of not having him shut down on me.”

She looked thoughtful. “You’re bringing the dog, right? That will help.”

He nodded. “Cutter’s mine for the operation. Already have his go bag in my truck.”

Her eyes widened. “The dog has a go bag?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “He’s one of the team. And, believe me, it won’t seem strange once you get to know him.”

“What’s strange was how he greeted Emily, as though they were friends already.”

“I noticed that. And like I said, once you get to know him, you’ll find out I’ve been right about him all along.”

“Right about him?”

“I’ve been telling them since he got here that he’s not a dog. He’s a smart alien in a dog suit.”

She laughed, and that made him feel much better than it should have.

It was going to be a long weekend.

Chapter 6

He’d underestimated.

This might turn out to be the longest weekend of his life, Liam thought as he sat on a bench at Cove Academy the next day. Even longer than the weekend he’d spent in juvie, trying to stay alive. It wasn’t that it didn’t go well jobwise; it did. Ria helped stir up memories of what it was like to be that age, and between them they decided he should go in less as a formal instructor and more as a guy who put his skills to actual use, willing to share. Although the idea of teaching a bunch of kids, instead of dealing with just one, was intimidating. They had progressed to that topic on this sunny Sunday afternoon as they sat, her large black bag between them. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or frustrated at the barrier.

“I’m no expert in any one of the usual arts. I’ve just developed a style that works for me that is a combination of a lot of them,” he warned her.

“But you had to learn at least parts of them all to do that, didn’t you?”

“True.”

“Then let your approach to them be the same...that you’re going to show them bits of each so they can get an idea if there’s one they’d like to pursue.”

He considered that, and it seemed reasonable. But, then, most things she said did. “And hope Dylan bites.”

“Yes.”

If the boy didn’t, Liam wasn’t sure what he’d do. He’d just have to deal with that if it happened. And, in the meantime, get through the rest of today. At least once he really started on the case, he might only see her now and then, instead of for hours at a time, as they’d done yesterday and now today.

With not much sleep in-between.

Cutter, lying at their feet, lifted his head. And Liam thought of how, a couple of hours into that tossing and turning night, the dog had hopped up on the bed beside him, given a little whine and a lick to his ear and settled in. Whether it was because of the comfortable familiarity of a dog, or that talent Cutter had for soothing restless souls, Liam had finally gone to sleep for a couple of hours.

Why he was so restless in the first place was something he’d deal with later.

Or not at all, he thought wryly as he looked around again.

Ria had suggested they have today’s meeting at the school so he could get familiar with the grounds. The place had once been a small farm of sorts, and the big farmhouse and various buildings had been converted into classrooms, labs, a library, several study rooms, a theater, a small coop that apparently still served as one for a few chickens and the barn that was now the gym where he’d be working.

“This is quite a place,” he’d said when they’d first arrived, looking around at the campus carved out of a thick grove of evergreens.

“I think it’s lovely. Peaceful. Conducive to learning.”

And again Liam caught himself thinking that if he’d ever had a teacher who looked like her, he might have paid a lot more attention. Since he’d sworn off thoughts like that—apparently unsuccessfully—his tone had been a bit snarky. “Spoken like a born teacher.”

“I am, I hope” was all she’d said. And thus had begun day two of this longest weekend.

If it wasn’t for Cutter, bless that hound, Liam wouldn’t have made it. But, as he had last night, the dog seemed to sense when he was too near the edge and then did something. Anything. Demand a break, more often to play than for a call of nature. Chase a bird, a ball if Liam would throw it, or simply start a rather manic game of tag. He included Ria in the tag, which made it both easier—it was difficult to think of anything but fun when you were playing with a dog who seemed to be working overtime to make you laugh—and harder, because she did laugh, delightedly, and it was the best thing he’d heard in years.

“He is quite a personality,” she said now, after the current mad chase ended with Cutter finally stopping for a drink of water from a spigot Liam turned on for him. They sat on a different bench in a shady spot while Cutter plopped down before them, panting but clearly happy.

“He is. He’s downright scary sometimes. But he’s also a valuable member of Foxworth,” he said.

“I imagine he gets people to talk to you. Like, hopefully, Dylan.”

“He does. But it’s more than that. He brings us at least half our cases.”

She looked from him to the dog and then back. “He what?”

Liam explained as best he could with examples, ending by asking, “Remember when he sat in front of you and Emily and looked at Quinn?”

“Yes.”

“He was giving him The Look.”

She smiled but in a puzzled way. “You say that like it’s capitalized.”

“To us, it is. It’s his ‘fix it’ look. Means there’s a problem that needs fixing and Foxworth can do it.”

Again she glanced from him to the dog and back. “That’s...”

“Yeah. It is. But it’s true.”

She looked at Cutter with even more interest now. “He’s Hayley’s dog?”

“Started out that way. But he’s Quinn’s now, too. We knew that when he got his own bark.”

“His own bark?”

She was laughing again, but it was clearly in delight, not disbelief. She only stopped when Cutter got to his feet. The dog stretched and then started walking toward the woods next to the building that housed the library.

“Do you need to go with him?” she asked.

Liam shook his head as he opened the envelope of flyers Hayley had printed up for him last night, announcing his workshop. “He’ll let me know.”

“He is...amazing.”

“He’s a different sort of critter, that’s for sure.”

She tilted her head as she looked at him then. “Is your accent still off-limits?”

His mind shot back to that moment when he’d both misinterpreted and overreacted to her comment on his drawl. Maybe he’d known even then how she was going to tangle him up. But he wasn’t going to make that too-obvious mistake again.

“Texas,” he confirmed neutrally.

“Your family is still there?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“I have a cousin in San Antonio. He has a restaurant on the River Walk. He—”

She broke off as Cutter, from the corner of the library, let out a sharp, two-note bark.

“And there’s my call,” Liam said, lifting his head.

“That’s your bark?”

“Yep.”

“Amazing,” she repeated and got up with him.

“Maybe you should stay here until I find out what he’s onto.”

“I hardly think anything’s going to happen here.”

“The roads are paved with dead critters who didn’t think anything was going to happen.”

“Well, thanks for that visual,” she said, her tone dry. “If some murderer is lurking in the woods, wouldn’t I be safer with you and Cutter than standing here alone?”

“I was thinking more about bears and mountain lions.” But, he thought, it was interesting that her first thought was a human threat.

“Oh. We haven’t seen any for a long time. Coyotes, yes.”

“With that barn full of coyote bait, I’m not surprised.”

“Another charming visual.” She sounded a little peeved now. “Are you always so graphic?”

“Realistic,” he retorted.

“Then maybe I won’t tell you how I feel about orcas.”

“I can probably guess.”

“I love them,” she admitted. “They’re so beautiful, and I love that they play. They have a cohesive family unit, aunts will take care of calves if the mother dies. It’s remarkable.”

Again spoken like a teacher. “And they’re killing machines, don’t forget that. They call them killer whales for a reason.”

“That, too. Very efficient.”

She seemed unbothered this time, and he guessed she’d come to terms with that aspect of the striking black-and-white creatures. And he wondered if she’d set him up for that, just to show him she wasn’t naïve about the realities of nature.

The bark came again, more insistent this time. But not warning, he thought. Cutter just wanted him over there; he wasn’t sounding an alarm to come armed and ready to fight.

He started toward the sound. Ria followed. Of course. He’d just have to trust that if it was a threat, he and Cutter could handle it. Which wouldn’t even be a question if it was only him. But Ria threw everything off balance.

In more ways than one.

He shoved the thought out of his mind as he rounded the corner of the building. Trusting Cutter, he didn’t take unusual care, but he was alert and ready just the same.

The scene that greeted them was anything but threatening.

Cutter was lolling in front of someone seated on the ground. The dog was clearly reveling in enthusiastic petting and scratching. His tail was wagging energetically. There was definitely no threat here.

“Dylan,” Ria breathed, so close Liam could feel the brush of it against his ear. He wondered if the shiver that went through him was visible to her, even as he confirmed the teenager’s identity from the photos he’d seen.

“He’s smiling,” Ria said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I hadn’t realized how long it’s been since I’ve seen him smile.”

“Step one accomplished, then,” he said quietly. And she smiled at him, as if her annoyance at him had been erased by a simple smile from a troubled boy. Which told him even more about her.

Dylan looked up then, still smiling at the dog. But when he saw them, the smile froze and then vanished as the boy went still. Too still.

“Here we go,” Liam muttered and started forward.

“Gently,” Ria suggested, right behind him.

He gave her a sideways look but quickly returned his focus to Dylan Oakley. “Hey,” he called out as they got closer, “sorry. He sort of wandered. Hope he’s not bothering you.”

Dylan seemed to relax a little. “No, he’s not. He’s great.”

“He’s a good, smart dog.”

“His name’s Cutter?” the boy asked, indicating the tag on his collar.

Cutter woofed. Liam grinned. “He likes to answer that one himself.”

“Cool.” For a moment the smile came back. And Liam noted it didn’t vanish again when Dylan shifted his gaze to Ria. So there was trust here, just not enough.

“Ms. Connelly,” Dylan said with a nod.

“Hi, Dylan. This is my friend Liam. Liam Burnett. And you’ve already met his dog.”

As if on cue, Cutter leaned in and gave the boy a swipe with his tongue. Dylan’s smile widened. It was holding. Which made Liam hopeful.

“What are you doing here on a sunny Sunday afternoon?”

The boy looked instantly wary. “I forgot a book,” he said, gesturing at the backpack beside him. It was larger than most he’d seen schoolkids carrying and Liam wondered if it was because Cove textbooks were bigger or if maybe Dylan had more in there than most. Ready to run was the phrase that popped into his mind, and he filed it away as a possibility.

“No e-reader?” Liam asked lightly. “Save your back?”

The boy seemed to relax slightly. “They believe in dead-tree versions.”

“The learning process is different,” Ria said. “Especially note taking. Running it through the brain and out through writing seems to make it stick better.”

Dylan didn’t dispute her, Liam noticed. The boy merely shrugged.

“Speaking of learning,” she said, “Liam’s going to be holding some workshops here the next couple of weeks, after classes.”

He supposed that was a good way to put it. Better than teaching, which might put him in a don’t-talk-to category in the boy’s mind. She’d clearly realized that.

“Workshops?” He shifted his gaze to Liam. “You’re a teacher?”

Liam laughed. “Boy, would my old man laugh his butt off to hear that. No, I’m just a guy who knows some stuff.”

He thought he saw something flicker in the boy’s eyes when he mentioned his father, but it vanished so quickly he couldn’t be sure. “What stuff?”

He was about to just say “martial arts” when Ria touched his arm. He wasn’t sure what she meant—or why it sent another shiver through him—but he let her take the lead. She knew the kid, after all.

“A few students have shown an interest in learning about martial arts. Liam’s going to be helping them choose which one they might like best.”

He saw what she’d done. If he’d answered as he’d been going to, it might have had Dylan thinking this was aimed specifically at him. Which it was. But she’d diluted it, said there were others, so now he couldn’t be sure. But that didn’t stop Dylan from regarding Liam suspiciously.

“You some kind of expert?”

Liam shook his head. “Like I said, just a guy who knows some stuff and has put it into use now and then. Enough about most of the disciplines to show the differences.”

“So you don’t, like, have your own dojo, or whatever it is?”

“No. I’m nowhere near that level. What I’ve got is a crazy combination of a lot of different styles.”

Dylan considered that. “You mean like MMA?”

Liam laughed. “Only in that I use what works for me. I’m not into fighting for fighting’s sake. I’m into staying alive and undamaged.”

He was sure of what he saw in the boy’s eyes then. And it made his jaw tighten. Because it was pure, unadulterated hope.

Chapter 7

Ria wondered if Liam had seen it, that look in Dylan’s eyes. Was he that perceptive? He’d certainly taken her cue easily enough. Which said something, that he didn’t feel he had to lead every step of the conversation. Of course, given the electric snap that had nearly singed her fingers when she’d touched him, she’d learned something about herself, too. She apparently had a weakness for cute, former bad-boy Texans who still had a hint of a drawl.

But now she needed to focus on Dylan. That look had convinced her more than anything that Emily had been right. And oddly, so did Cutter’s reaction, which was to lean into the boy as if putting himself between Dylan and the world. Yes, he needed help. But he’d reacted so strongly to the words staying alive and undamaged that her entire assessment shifted. It didn’t seem to her now that Dylan was worried about the inner threat, the kind that led to self-harm or worse, but an exterior one. Was he in some other kind of trouble?

“You should come by.” Liam’s tone hit just the right casual note. “Meet up in the gym lobby. I’m not into public embarrassment, either, so after I explain the plan, we’ll talk one at a time, go through some things.”

Again Dylan reacted but with simple interest this time. Or appreciation about the privacy. That was a good call on Liam’s part, she thought.

“Just talk?” Dylan asked.

“At first. Maybe do a couple of basic exercises or I’ll show some examples of stuff at the foundation of the discipline, so people get a feel for if they’ll like it or hate it.”

He flashed that grin and, despite having seen it before, Ria nearly gasped. His easy smile had punch enough, but that sudden grin was lethal.

“Guess I’d better bring a book,” he said, nodding toward Dylan’s backpack, “in case nobody shows up.”

For the first time Dylan smiled. “They’ll show up.”

“Maybe help spread the word? I’d hate to be sitting there by myself tomorrow afternoon, reading my truck maintenance manual or something.”

“I could loan you a copy of War and Peace,” Ria suggested, encouraged by Dylan’s continuing smile.

This time Dylan actually laughed at Liam’s exaggeratedly horrified expression.

“Try it,” Dylan suggested. “Ms. Connelly can make even that really interesting.”

Ria was moved by the simple compliment. “Thank you, Dylan. You did quite well in that section.”

The boy looked pleased in turn. He nodded toward the flyers Liam held. “Maybe I could help, post some of those around?”

“That would be great,” Liam said, separating out several. “Just anywhere people pass by a lot.”

“Well,” Ria said after Dylan, with a final pat for Cutter, had gone off with flyers in hand, “that went well.”

“Seemed to,” Liam agreed.

“I think he’ll show up. Then you can get some one-on-one time with him.”

He nodded. “There’s something going on with him, for sure. Question is, is it more than just being a teenager?”

“What you saw at the end there, the smile, the laugh? That’s what he was like all the time, before.”

“Happy kid.”

“Mostly.” She sighed. “Dylan was usually the peacemaker. He could talk kids out of fighting or crack a joke that would have them laughing instead.”

An odd little smile turned up just one corner of his mouth, and Ria wondered if perhaps he’d been like Dylan, at that age. Before he’d gotten into trouble. She was more curious about that now than ever. She wanted to know what had sent him down that bad path he’d mentioned,

“We’ll see what I find out tomorrow.”

He rose and began to walk, the rest of the flyers in hand, pausing here and there to put one up as she pointed out likely spots where the most kids would see them.

“You don’t mind dealing with other kids, just to get to Dylan?” she asked when he’d posted one outside the science lab.

He shrugged. “I’ll be nervous, but it’ll be good practice for me. We had a slow summer—which is good news, considering what we do—and I kind of slacked off.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what a busy summer would be.”

He grinned. And again her stomach took that tumble. “Let’s see...last summer we had a decade-old missing-person case and what turned into a hostage situation. Then a kidnapping. That was before the whole ‘take down the state government’ thing.”

She’d known some of this, from Emily, but the scope of what Foxworth did was boggling. But she couldn’t help smiling back at his grin. “Foxworth must really be something.”

“We are. Champion of lost causes, people in the right and the truth.”

He said it laughingly but with pride, as well. A well-deserved pride, from what she’d seen and heard so far.

“Sounds like a great job.”

“Saved my life,” Liam said, and there was nothing but sincerity in his voice then.

“But...kidnappings and hostages? That sounds dangerous.”

“We’re trained for that—Quinn sees to it—although I needed more than the others. They’re mostly ex-military and I was just a borderline computer geek who happened to like to track and hunt.”

“Seems there’d be some overlap there.”

The grin again. Good grief, stomach, settle down, she ordered as she posted a final flyer on a board outside the library, where regular school notices were always placed.

“Some. Quinn took care of the gaps, although I felt a bit out of place at first. But Quinn made me see we all have our specialties.”

“Like computers and tracking?”

He nodded. “Quinn’s the decision guy, obviously. Hayley provides the insight into motivation and subtext. She’s amazing with people. Teague’s a pilot and tactician of sorts. Rafe...” His voice trailed off, and the slightest of furrows creased his brow. “Well, Rafe is Rafe.”

Whoever Rafe was, Liam was worried about him, she thought. But he was clearly not inclined to go into it now, because he went on quickly.

“And Cutter, of course. He’s the one who bonds us all together. He belongs to all of us, as much as any one dog can.”

“That’s sweet,” she said.

“And he’s saved us all, at one time or another. If we’re smart enough to listen to him.”

The dog gave a soft whuff, as if reminding Liam they should listen to him all the time. Ria couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “He’s really quite expressive, isn’t he?”

“He gets his point across,” he agreed, but he seemed to be avoiding looking at her now. She wondered if he was regretting having said so much, although to her it didn’t seem as if he’d given away much that was personal.

Cutter whuffed again, this time as he rose up to put his front paws on the school bulletin board. He nosed at another flyer, a slick one for a new restaurant in the picturesque little town on the bay at the bottom of the hill. Ria hadn’t been there yet, but she’d heard from various students that they had some seriously good burgers and an outrageous selection of fries with various toppings that made a meal in themselves and were cheap enough to tempt students with sometimes strapped finances.

She heard a faint sound, realized that, as Liam had looked at the menu that had Cutter’s attention, his stomach had growled.

“Skip breakfast?” she asked with a smile.

“And lunch,” he muttered.

“I’ve heard they’re good.” She kept her tone neutral, nonsuggestive. His stomach made a more insistent sound. He gave her a quick flick of a glance.

“You haven’t been there?”

“Not yet.”

She wondered, for a brief moment that annoyingly made her hold her breath, if he was going to ask her to go with him. She’d happily forego the insulated bag full of fruit and yogurt in the school fridge if he did.

He didn’t.

In that moment Cutter turned, sat and stared up at Liam with what Ria could only describe as a disgusted look. Liam seemed to purposely ignore the animal, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded like “Don’t even try, hound.”

And abruptly he excused himself, with just enough politeness to keep it from being rude.

Just.

She watched him go, watched the dog follow with obvious reluctance and wondered what on earth had just happened here.

Chapter 8

“He doesn’t look like much of a fighter.”

“Doesn’t look like a teacher, either.”

“Hey, he’s got a dog. Maybe he’s blind. That would be cool, like a superhero.”

“Maybe he’s got the dog because he’s gutless.”

Liam listened without looking, since he’d already noted and mentally cataloged the trio of boys when they’d come in. They didn’t join the other dozen or so who’d shown up but kept to themselves in a little knot near the door. There were always at least three, he thought. The ringleader and a couple of sycophants. And there was little doubt that the boy who had spoken first and last was the ringleader. He was the biggest of them and wore the most scornful expression.

He was also the one Cutter was watching like an errant sheep.

And Liam noticed many of the other kids who’d gathered around the mats on the floor were keeping a wary eye on the trio. Including Dylan, who was standing toward the back but appeared more intent than any of them.

“Great,” he heard a boy mutter, looking at the biggest of the three. “Just what we need—Alan screwing things up.”

Purposely Liam turned his back on the threesome. It went against his instincts, but the gym had several mirrors in one corner, near what he guessed was a bar for dance students to use, and he positioned himself so he could watch the three easily without looking directly at them. Otherwise he ignored them, and he saw the leader’s expression change; he obviously wasn’t used to being ignored.

“Hi, everyone. My name’s Liam Burnett. Thanks for turning up and saving me from reading War and Peace.”

He got a few chuckles, and all of the ones in front of him smiled. He noted Emily’s absence. The girl had said she wasn’t going to come because she was afraid she’d give him away somehow and Dylan would shy away.

“Y’all know why you’re here,” he began. He heard the snicker from behind him, no doubt at the drawl he’d purposely let through. “Well, most of you, anyway. Some don’t have even a clue.”

The titter that went through the group had a nervous edge to it. He kept his back turned but saw the trio, the big guy in the lead, start moving toward him. He watched the reflection, assessing. Alan was big, yes. Nearly his own height. And bulky. Probably outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. But it wasn’t muscle, Liam noted, seeing the softness around the middle and in the arms beneath the T-shirt from a local bar. Wondered if the kid counted on his sheer size to intimidate. Wondered if he expected people to think he was old enough to hang out in that dive bar his shirt advertised. Or clever enough to bluff his way in.

And wondered what Alan was doing here at Cove at all. From what Ria had told him about the school and its academic standards, he seemed an unlikely fit. But maybe his folks were rich and bought his way in; money did talk, after all.

And maybe he’s really a genius under all that bluster.

Liam nearly grinned at his own thought. Quinn had taught him much about making assumptions.

“I gotta figure,” he said to the group, “since this isn’t getting you out of class, that you want to be here. Question is, why?”

“Because it’s cool?” one of the boys in front suggested.

Liam grinned at him. “It is that.”

Another laugh from the group.

“You going to teach girls, too?”

Liam looked at the girl who stood up front, looking at him rather challengingly. In that moment he was glad he’d helped Quinn to train Hayley and Teague’s Laney. They’d taught him as much as he’d taught them.

“Absolutely,” he said. “With the right mind-set, girls can get more out of it than anyone.”

She looked surprised. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. In fact, you have an advantage. If you’re attacked, it’s usually by someone who thinks you’re weak, and if you know how, you can use that assumption against them. You usually are smaller. You can use the size disparity even more. There’s an entire discipline, Brazilian jiujitsu, that specializes in just that.”

Her attitude changed visibly, from one of challenge to interest. In fact, she looked downright intrigued. He counted it as a small victory.

“I’m not an expert in any one of the disciplines,” he said. “What I am good at is picking what works for me. And that’s why I’m here, to help you pick.”

“If you’re not an expert, why should we listen to you?”

“What I’m also good at,” Liam said without acknowledging the bully’s presence with even a glance, “is assessing an opponent. The way they carry themselves, like a true fighter or just a big ol’ thug who doesn’t have a clue about fighting someone who knows how to fight back.”

A murmur went through the group. They got that he was talking specifically about the boy coming up behind him.

“And,” Liam continued, “I’m good at assessing the real level of the threat. If it’s someone who can hold their own, or someone clueless I could take down with a sneeze.”

This time they laughed. He supposed he shouldn’t egg the kid on like that, but he really didn’t like bullies. He’d been on the short end of that experience too often, when he was this age.

In the mirror he saw the boy’s hands curl into fists. A glance at Alan’s face showed he wasn’t quite sure he was being insulted, which was also Liam’s intent. Liam wondered if Alan was foolish enough to rush him, to attack someone there to teach defense against just that, and in front of the whole group. He almost hoped he was.

He doubted Foxworth would appreciate getting sued by some irate parent over the bruising of their not-so-little boy. Unless, of course, Alan started it. In front of multiple witnesses.

“Most bullies are more scared than anything,” he said, keeping Alan’s reflection in the line of his peripheral vision as he stepped onto the mat. “Except for maybe that clueless thing.”

Again, laughter. Liam could almost feel the big kid’s rage.

“Go ahead, give it a shot,” he said, without turning.

Alan stopped dead. Liam shoved his hands into his jeans’ front pockets. Stood casually, as if he were completely unaware. “You’ve got the drop on me, right? From behind. And you’re a big guy. No way you can lose.”

“It’s a trap,” Alan muttered.

So he was smarter than he looked, Liam thought. “Just a demonstration,” he said. “I need a tough guy.”

Alan smiled at that; Liam could see it in the mirror. But still Alan hesitated. Then somebody in the group muttered audibly, “Coward.” He felt more than saw Alan stiffen.

“Come on,” he urged. “No repercussions.”

He felt the moment when the boy decided, egged on by that derisive comment, heard the movement when he took that first step. And then he was charging, energized perhaps by the free rein given.

At the last second Liam dodged, spun and swept his right foot into Alan’s path, carefully avoiding the knees, where he could do some real damage. The boy went down, hitting the soft mat with a thud that seemed to echo off the walls. And Liam had never taken his hands out of his pockets.

The cheer that went up told him how weary the others were of this particular bully. But he also knew the dangers of provoking one and the likelihood Alan would take out his fury and embarrassment on the first smaller, weaker prey he could find. So Liam grinned and held out a hand to Alan.

“Great job, Alan. Thanks for being a good sport about it. Oh, and for not taking my head off.”

The implication that he could have if he’d wanted to seemed to mollify the boy. Liam watched him make the decision to play along. He let Liam give him the hand up.

“If you can’t take out the best, what good are you?” Alan said.

Bluster, Liam thought. But he only nodded. If he was really here to teach, it might be interesting to find out what was behind the bully facade. But right now he’d served a purpose. Every other kid in that gym was on Liam’s side now.

* * *

Liam almost had the mat rolled up for stowing under the bleachers along the side wall when he sensed the approach. Instead of looking behind him, he looked at Cutter, who was on his feet, tail wagging. Trusting the dog’s instincts, he finished the job before straightening up and turning around.

Dylan.

“Hey,” Liam said casually.

The boy nodded. “That was great. I liked the sound of the Krav Maga stuff.”

Liam smiled. “It’s effective. Designed for one purpose—street survival.”

“Neutralize the threat, you said.”

He nodded. “By whatever means necessary.”

Dylan nodded. And as if it were a signal, Cutter walked up to him, tail still wagging, ears up. The boy’s smile widened. He reached out to stroke the dog’s head. The tail wagged faster.

“I was watching him. He didn’t like Alan much.”

“He’s a very good judge of people.”

Dylan didn’t miss the implication, that Cutter clearly liked him as much as he’d disliked Alan. The boy looked pleased, which told Liam a lot.

“You want to talk about which way you want to go?” Liam asked.

Dylan shook his head. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here now. I have to get home. I’m stuck with watching my little brother, so I have to go get him.”

“I hated that, being the built-in babysitter,” Liam said.

Dylan’s gaze shot to his face. “Yeah. Sucks.”

There was something else there, Liam thought. Something deeper than just not liking being a babysitter. He glanced at Cutter, who was leaning into the boy, giving him the full-on Cutter stamp of approval. The boy continued petting the dog, smiling in a way that, for the moment at least, seemed to erase the shadows.

“You got some other time you could free up?” Liam asked. “I’m flexible.”

He saw something else flash in the boy’s eyes. Surprise? Even eagerness?

“Really? I mean, I have an hour-and-a-half break at eleven, between trig and English on Tuesday and Thursday.”

Liam had already known this from Ria; it was part of the plan, and why he’d made the suggestion. It would give them time without other kids around.

“All right. We’ll do your one-on-one session then. I’ll see if the gym’s available, or we’ll need to find someplace else.”

“Thanks,” Dylan said. “A lot.”

“No problem. We’ll take our time, until you decide what you want to pursue.”

“How about we go straight to Krav Maga?”

“If that’s what you want, I know a guy. I’ll hook you up. But you won’t be any good at it unless you can master the mental part first. It’s harder than you might think to really believe in no holds barred and no quarter given. It’s not the way most people think, if they’re not living in a war zone.”

“Those guys are serious,” Dylan said.

“They have to be. For them it’s survival. But for you, it’s all about control. Of the other guy, sure, but of you first. It has to be instinctive, second nature.”

“Like you did with Alan?”

Liam’s mouth quirked upward. “Nah. I was mainly focused on not really hurting him. Didn’t want to get sued by angry parents.”

“You’d have everybody there on your side, testifying that he jumped you.”

“They did seem to enjoy seeing him on his back,” Liam said with a grin.

Dylan smiled, and it was the most genuine one Liam had seen from him, except for when he was looking at Cutter. Which he did again now.

“Will you bring him?”

“If you want.”

“Yeah. He’s a great dog.”

“See you tomorrow, then?”

Dylan nodded, not even trying to hide his eagerness now. And when he left, even his steps seemed lighter.

“Thanks, buddy,” Liam said softly to Cutter as he watched the boy go. “We’re in the door now, at least.”

He reached out to scratch behind the dog’s right ear, in that spot he liked. The feathery tail began to wag again. And it was a moment before Liam realized it wasn’t simply the touch he was happy about. Someone was once more coming up behind him. And this one was a bigger threat than Alan had ever thought about being. To Liam, anyway.

Ria.

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