There was a pause on the other end of the line as if his friend was debating his next words. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, man?”
Mike wasn’t surprised at David’s concern. They’d been friends for years, having met soon after Mike first visited San Diablo before going to college, and the investigator wasn’t known for keeping his opinion to himself. “Ready?”
“She hasn’t had the best life, Mike. There’re a lot of walls you’re going to have to deal with. And so far it doesn’t look like she’s interested in making it easy for you.”
Knowing David had reinvestigated Lyssa four years ago at his request, Mike understood the reason for his friend’s caution. If Mike hadn’t already come up against a few of those walls himself, it might have intimidated him, but one thing kept him going. “She belongs to me. No matter how long it takes, I will convince her of that.”
“Good luck,” David offered before hanging up.
Mike closed the phone and tucked it into his pocket. With his hands draped over the steering wheel, he stared through the windshield. There were other things to consider if he was going to follow the path in front of him. One of those was his responsibility to the OZ team he’d spent the last five years working with.
From a concealed pouch beneath his seat, Mike drew out a second cell phone. To convince Lyssa of his sincerity, he’d need to stay close to home. At least for the next month or so. It would leave the unit shorthanded, but Lyssa was his future. Once he’d secured that, he’d reevaluate the role he’d be taking in future investigations.
As anonymous as each team member’s identity was, there was always a likelihood that the criminals they pursued might discover who was watching them. That could put Lyssa in danger. For nearly twelve years, he’d taken every precaution to keep his family protected. When he brought Lyssa into his life, he’d extend that security to include her and any children he’d convince her to have.
After punching in the preset number, he waited. Two rings, then a soft Southern voice requested, “Secured, Scarecrow?”
The woman’s voice gave no hint to the capabilities or duties she carried. Mike wondered, not for the first time, if the face matched the sultry voice. “Yes, Aunt Em.”
“Tin Man cleared you from the farm. Did you have news about the ruby slippers?”
All business. Mike grimaced. No, she definitely wouldn’t like what he had to say. “No, ma’am, nothing on the ruby slippers.” Much as he’d like to have information on the target—whom they referred to as “ruby slippers”—the unit had been pursuing for the last four years, his contacts had given him nothing.
“Were you hoping for relocation?” The click of computer keys sounded through the connection.
“No. I’m pulling out for a few weeks. Have some crops of my own to watch over,” he explained.
“Pulling out?” There were a few clicks over the phone before she continued, “Are you okay, Scarecrow?”
She knew nothing about his real identity, only the code name assigned to him when he’d joined her unit, after Trent—Tin Man—recommended him. “Personal stuff, Aunt Em, but I won’t be able to leave for at least a month.”
“You’re leaving us shorthanded. Lion and Dot are waging an armed truce. Frank and Uncle Henry are backing up Glenda, but Tin Man’s working solo.”
“I realize that, Em, but this is more important.” For the unit, nothing was more important than finding the head of the organization funneling guns, drugs, and children into the hands of terrorists and cartels.
“Are you talking retirement, Scarecrow?”
Was he? He was only thirty-four, but men younger than him had died in the last twelve years he’d been serving with Mayor’s organization. Hell, just over forty-eight hours ago, he’d scrubbed the blood of another field agent from his hands. In his mind, he could still feel it, hot and sticky between his fingers. “Maybe, Em.”
“Keep your phone close. In case a storm blows up.”
“Will do,” Mike assured her.
“If Baum calls you, tell him to quit messing with Toto. I’m tired of refereeing their territorial squabbles. Next time I’ll drag Mayor into it, and then no one will be happy.”
Mike laughed at her disgruntled tone but agreed to pass on the message to either agent should they call. Then he disconnected, returned the phone to its hiding space, and checked to make sure the P226 was strapped beneath the seat beside it before sitting up and cranking the engine.
Thoughts of retirement could wait. Right now, he needed to concentrate on proving his claim to Lyssa.
* * *
Sunlight spilled through the multipaned window of the breakfast nook near Mattie’s spacious kitchen while Lyssa watched her sister finish loading the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes.
“See, Aunt Lys, Lizbet is gettin’ Ronald from the dragon.”
Lyssa paid little attention to her niece as Maggie pointed out the characters in her book. “Um-hmm.”
“And her dragon is green. Your dragon is black,” Maggie informed her in a firm tone.
“That’s nice, sweetie.” Lyssa reached around the child in her lap to stir the tea her sister had poured for her a few minutes earlier.
Soft, chubby hands bracketed her cheeks, directing her gaze downward. Maggie watched her with pale green eyes; springy, chocolate brown curls framed her round face. “You need to listen, Aunt Lys. Your black dragon has the baby.”
“What dragon, Maggie?” Mattie asked as she returned to her seat at the table.
Maggie released Lyssa’s face and turned to smile at her mother. “Aunt Lys’s dragon, Mama. He’s black.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” She pointed to the picture in her book. “Lizbet’s dragon is green. See.”
Mattie made an appropriately impressed sound before smiling at the three-year-old. “Mama needs to talk to Aunt Lyssa, honey. Can you take your book to Grandpa and show it to him?”
Maggie heaved a loud sigh. “Okay.” She bounced off Lyssa’s lap, her book clutched to her chest. “Bye, Aunt Lys.” The little girl waved before scampering out of the room.
Lyssa waved back. “Bye, Maggie.” The expression on Mattie’s face was warning enough for Lyssa that her sister had questions she wanted answered.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here so bright and early?” Mattie leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea.
“Can’t I just come by—”
Mattie rolled her eyes. “Please. Not looking like that, you can’t.”
“Like what?” Lyssa held her arms out and glanced down at the oversize sweatshirt and jeans she wore. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“It’s not the clothes, Lys; it’s you.”
The moment Lyssa set her hands down on the table, Mattie covered them with hers. “I haven’t see you this nervous since I convinced you to approach Bryce about investing in your design business.”
Lyssa turned her hands over to grip Mattie’s, conflicted about what to say. She’d never intended to do anything but use the time at Mattie’s to avoid facing Mike. Now that she was here, though, it was hard not to confide in her sister. “I screwed up, Mat.”
“How?” Mattie’s gaze held hers, no anxiety, worry, or unease showing in her expression. She simply waited.
Lyssa had to laugh. “Four kids have definitely mellowed you. I can remember when you would have been practically levitating off your seat, full of questions, if I told you how badly I’d messed up.”
Mattie chuckled and released one of Lyssa’s hands to sip her tea before she answered. “I wouldn’t say mellowed so much as conditioned. I’ve discovered that grown-up adventures don’t often require learning how to avoid annoyed skunks or flustered ground squirrels who’ve been dragged into the house to be pets.”
Lyssa winced. “Maggie?”
Her sister nodded. “She’s been forbidden to go to the animal shelter, so she’s making do with the local wildlife.”
“They still haven’t forgiven her for opening the cages?”
“No.” Mattie grimaced. She set her empty cup on the table. “So how did you screw up?”
Lyssa began to say something about the prior evening, then changed her mind. Unwilling to burden Mattie with her concerns, she shook her head. “Mat, you have enough to deal with—”
“Uh-uh. No. Don’t start to tell me, then stop. You’re obviously upset about something. Now what is it?”
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have—”
“Does it have anything to do with Mike?”
Lyssa’s teacup tilted, splashing lukewarm tea onto the table. Avoiding Mattie’s gaze, Lyssa dabbed at the mess with a napkin. “Wha-what makes you think he’s—that I—”
Mattie leaned forward to refill her cup from the teapot in the center of the table. “He’s the only reason you ever get nervous and fidgety and start dressing in the baggy outfits.”
“I do not!”
“You do so.” Mattie smirked. “Mike has been chasing you for years, sis. Why don’t you let him catch you? I promise if he’s anything like his brother, you won’t regret it.”
“And when it ends? What happens then?” Lyssa asked. “Just how welcome would I be here if I dumped your husband’s little brother?”
Mattie waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Who says you’ll dump him? Halsey men have stamina.”
“I could. Or he could be the dumper and I the dumpee.” Lyssa figured the latter was a more likely scenario if she were ever foolish enough to leave herself vulnerable to betrayal again.
Amusement glinted in her sister’s eyes for a moment before she grew somber. “You’re serious?”
“Mat, I’m six years older than him. He’s not going to be interested—”
Mattie set down her cup and leaned forward in her seat. “That’s not true. Mike is nuts about you.”
“Maybe. But it isn’t going to last.” Lyssa had no intention of living in a fantasy world, and she refused to let her sister convince her otherwise.
“Why can’t it last? You can’t predict the future, Lys.”
“But I do know me. There’s nothing exciting or stimulating enough about me to sustain Mike’s interest.”
Mattie rose and moved around the table to sit next to Lyssa. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Lyssa had been over this subject in her mind once this morning; she was in no mood to rehash the same discussion only to come to the same conclusion. She shrugged off her sister’s reassurance, “Maybe, but he has his whole future ahead of him, Mat. And I have mine. If we just ignore this itch, it’ll go away.”
“Your problem is you think too much,” Mattie grumbled. “You need to stop listening to your head and start listening to your heart.”
“The heart lies, Mattie. I don’t want to build a future on lies.”
Lyssa could tell by her sister’s expression that she’d surprised her, but she wasn’t interested in fairy tales. At a very young age, she’d seen just how ugly the real world was, and she had no intention of repeating her parents’ mistakes.
Before Mattie could think of a comeback, Maggie’s excited squeal sounded in the hallway as she raced down the hall toward the front door.
“Cluncle Mike! Cluncle Mike!”
Lyssa tensed; her heart raced.
“Maggie! No.” Bryce’s voice overrode his daughter’s cries.
The conversation that followed was lost to Lyssa as she waited for the sound of Mike’s voice. The touch of Mattie’s hand on her shoulder startled her. Her cup tumbled onto its side, spilling the little bit of tea left inside in a shallow golden pool across the table. She trembled as she righted the cup, patting ineffectually at the mess with a crumpled napkin as she listened to the rumble of voices in the hall.
“I’ve gotta go.” Lyssa shoved her chair back and grabbed her purse.
“It’s Mike, isn’t it? Something happened between you.” Mattie’s eyes went wide as she followed Lyssa toward the kitchen door leading onto the wraparound porch. “The masquerade. Oh God, Lys, you used the invitation.”
“Yes. No. I—” Lyssa tried to calm down, but she grabbed her sister’s hands, driven by the fear that Mike would walk in on them. “I need to go home. I can’t see him. Not now. Not yet.”
“You’re scaring me, Lys. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. I just—I need some time. Okay? Can you just keep him here for a little while?” She hoped her smile looked more reassuring than it felt.
“You have to tell me—”
Lyssa pulled Mattie close for a quick hug. “I promise. I’ll tell you everything. Later. Just keep Mike here long enough for me to think.”
Mattie squeezed hard, then released her. “How long? One, two hours?”
“At least one. Two would be better.”
“Promise you’ll tell me?”
Lyssa agreed. “Promise.”
Mattie’s agreement was reluctant, but she gave it. “Okay. Go. I’ll try to keep him occupied.”
Lyssa nodded and slipped out the kitchen door. She hurried along the porch, hoping Mike hadn’t blocked her escape. As she passed the front of the house, she spotted Mattie through the windows on either side of the double doors as she approached her husband. The expression on Mattie’s face worried Lyssa, but not enough to stick around.
Mike’s truck was parked beside her sedan, but it didn’t hinder her ability to exit. She expected to be caught at any second as she fumbled open the door and scrambled inside. She slid the key into the ignition and twisted it. The engine caught immediately, and she shifted into gear at the same time she tugged the seat belt across her lap. No shouts or protests sounded behind her as she pulled out of the curved drive and onto the paved private lane leading toward the state road into town. Only then did Lyssa release the breath she’d been holding.
The second Mattie joined them, Mike knew Lyssa had made her escape. The sound of her car starting and pulling out of the drive frustrated him, but he could be patient. Judging by his brother’s curious expression and Mattie’s determined one, he’d be staying a while. Lyssa wasn’t likely to go anywhere but home.
“Go play with Grandpa, honey.” Mattie’s expression and tone drew Bryce’s attention. Even Maggie didn’t question her mother’s instructions, simply waved at her uncle and hurried down the hall.
“Lawrence?” Bryce moved next to his wife, his voice concerned.
Lyssa must have mentioned something about last night, Mike guessed as Mattie’s eyes narrowed on him and she pointed to the open door up the hall. “Study. Now.” She marched into the room and disappeared, confident that Bryce and he would follow.