Breakwater

23

Seeing his wife cry never failed to make Nate Winter think of his two younger sisters. He, Antonia and Carine were orphaned as children when their parents died in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and he remembered his helplessness when he’d hear them sobbing into their pillows at night. He’d never admitted to his own tears.

Sarah wasn’t crying so much as trying to keep herself from crying. She’d worked all day on a dig in back of the historic northern Virginia house where they lived and then had started packing for their move that weekend.

Honey-haired and blue-eyed, she was the most beautiful woman Nate had ever known, but right now, her cheeks had red splotches, and her eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

“You’ve been working nonstop. Take the night off-”

“I need to finish packing these books.” With a desperate gesture, she took in the floor-to-ceiling shelves she was unloading. “I’ve hardly even started.”

“My family’s coming tomorrow. They’ll help. I can help-”

“No, no. You have a meeting tonight.” She smiled. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You’ve never been one to pace yourself.”

This time, her smile reached her eyes. “You’re one to talk. Go on. You don’t want to be late. If I applied the right kind of pressure, would you tell me what your meeting’s about?”

He laughed, kissing her, tasting her tears. “It’s boring. Save your pressure tactics for something more worthwhile.”

“I will,” she whispered, exaggerating her southern accent.

When he got to his car, Nate couldn’t dispel a nagging uneasiness. It’d been eating at him for days, ever since Alicia Miller’s death in Yorkville. He looked back at the idyllic house and thought of his wife packing for their upcoming move while he was in a meeting about high-level killers. Sarah was a fighter, a survivor-one of the smartest people he knew. But she was also married to a senior federal agent in the middle of a troubling investigation.

Nate dialed his brother-in-law in New Hampshire. He and Tyler North, an air force pararescueman, had been friends since childhood, a relationship that became somewhat more complicated when Ty married the younger of Nate’s two sisters. Ty and Carine had a four-month-old baby boy, Harry, named after his paternal grandfather.

Ty was at home in New Hampshire on leave, planning to help Nate and Sarah move. He picked up on the second ring.

“Can you get down here sooner than tomorrow night?” Nate asked.

There wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation on Ty’s part. “I can leave for Manchester airport in an hour.”

Nate didn’t bother to hide his relief. “Thanks.”

“It’s Sarah?”

“I’d just feel better with someone else here with her.”

“Should I leave Carine and the little guy up here?”

Nate thought a moment. His sister was a nature photographer and an independent soul-she and Ty had known each other since they were tots. “No. Bring them. I’m just on edge. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You were born on edge,” North said. “I’ll see you later on tonight.”

After he hung up, Nate continued to Washington and FBI headquarters, where the vigilante task force was meeting. He had virtually nothing to report from Huck McCabe or Diego Clemente. After two weeks in Yorkville, McCabe was no closer to finding out what was going on there than when he’d unpacked his bags. He had to be frustrated. Even if he was building trust day by day, establishing his credentials as a no-holds-barred vigilante, he didn’t strike Nate as someone who would be satisfied with the status quo for too long. He’d seize his opportunity, and he’d make things happen.

Nate just hoped they all were ready when McCabe hit the switch.