Page 37 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

As quickly as she’d rediscovered her baby brother, she might lose him.

…

Eric sat at his desk, pounding out the rest of his ops plan. Since the FBI was up to their eyeballs in this case as much as the ATF, he wanted Dayne to review it before he emailed it to his RAC—resident agent in charge—for a signature.

Tiger snored away on the dog bed Eric had purchased for the office, but even in sleep, his dog registered the tapping of Eric’s fingers on the laptop by flicking his ears back and forth. Except for him and Tiger, the office was empty. Tomorrow morning, it would be bustling with preparations for the op.

Through the window, he watched Dayne’s SUV pull into the space next to his. A minute later, the door opened and Dayne came into the office, folding his big frame at the empty desk used by visiting agents.

“Where’s Remy?” he asked, referring to Dayne’s big German shepherd.

“Home.” Dayne pulled a laptop from his gear bag and set it on the desk. “She busted her furry butt yesterday searching for a missing toddler. She’s probably in deep doggy REM right about now.”

“Good deal.” There was no better feeling than when your K-9 found a missing child. Not that he’d expect anything less from Remy. Dayne’s K-9 was one of the best trackers in the state. The only dog he’d seen capable of rivaling Remy’s skills was Matt Connors’s CIA K-9, Sheba. “Here’s the draft.” He stapled the freshly printed document, then handed it to Dayne.

While Dayne thumbed through the pages, Eric gave a quick summary.

“I’ve got five teams of two agents each surveilling Jesse to the meet location, plus the two of us. Depending on what goes down, we can either get a search warrant or continue surveillance if we need more probable cause.”

“Sounds good.” Dayne sat back and began reading the plan more thoroughly.

Eric was sure they’d get that probable cause, just as he was certain that sovereign citizens were behind it. Not knowing exactly which sovereign citizens they were dealing with, he could accept. For now. That answer would come soon enough, but considering they were about to engage over a dozen federal agents for a controlled delivery of bomb-making material, followed by a 24/7 surveillance, he didn’t like having any unanswered questions.

Since losing his friends to sovereigns in Alabama, he’d always taken extra steps to protect every other agent he’d worked with. Sometimes, to the point of excess, because he couldn’t go through that again.

Refocusing on his computer, he entered Tess’s name into Accurint. A moment later, the screen flashed with the words “no records found.” He leaned back in his chair. This wasn’t the first time he hadn’t got a hit on a person’s database search, but it was rare.

“Got something?” Dayne asked from across the desk.

“Don’t know.” He didn’t, not really. Next, he ran her name through NLETS for a Massachusetts driver license. Two seconds later, the screen filled with information. A DL had been issued to her two years ago. He recognized the address, but it wasn’t a residence. It’s the Dog Park Café. There could very well be a legitimate reason she’d reported the café as her home address. Maybe she didn’t have a permanent address at the time she applied for the license but was working at the DPC at the time.

Next, he ran the tag on her Toyota Camry, and shit. The address associated with the Camry was also the café, but the registration was issued six months after the driver license, which meant she’d lied to the DMV. He knew this for a fact because no one actually lived at the DPC, not even Andi and Nick. And, after closing up the restaurant at night, he’d seen Tess drive off.

It could mean absolutely nothing. Or it could mean she was trying to hide where she lived. But why, and from whom?

Aside from these two documents, there was nothing on file for her. Anywhere. Including an actual address or credit history. He shoved his fingers through his hair. It was as if he were missing a critical piece of the McTavish puzzle.

“How are things with your temporary tenants?” Dayne raised his dark brows, as if he knew precisely what Eric had been doing on the computer. They worked together so much that the man probably did know him so freaking well. Dayne wasn’t much for baring his own soul, but when it came to others, he didn’t miss a goddamn thing.

“Fine.” He tried keeping his tone bland.

“Uh-huh.” The look on his friend’s face was one of skepticism, telling him Dayne wasn’t buying his shit.

He logged out of the system, thinking his queries hadn’t told him squat. At least, any squat that was conclusive. “It’s not so bad.”

Dayne snorted.

“What?” he shot back.

“I’m just surprised.”

“At?”

Dayne grinned like an idiot. “Buddy, I love you like my own brother, but you’re so rigid. You shocked the shit out of me when you offered to put Tess and her brother up at your house. I thought you were possessed.”

Yeah, that’s what he’d thought, too. He opened his mouth to shoot back an f-you or two, biting it back at the last second. When it came to his home privacy, let alone the peace and quiet he craved, there was no denying he was as rigid as a lead pipe. But in the two days since Tess and Jesse had been living with him, she’d already pushed him way outside his comfort zone, and he’d survived just fine.

There were flowers in his kitchen for the first time ever, and he’d done yoga for Christ’s sake. Or, at least, he’d tried doing yoga. Once Tess had fallen on top of him, he’d forgotten all about it. The only thing he’d wanted had been to kiss her, and he would have kept right on kissing her if Jesse hadn’t interrupted.