Breakwater

37

Driving at breakneck speed, Nate Winter tried once more to get through by cell phone to his wife-nothing.

He told himself it could mean anything.

But Huck McCabe’s words rang in his head, and although he’d called for backup, he knew he’d get to their house first.

As he pulled into his driveway, he saw the big moving van-then, Juliet Longstreet’s truck. His relief was palpable. If anyone could handle a team of hired killers it was Longstreet. He got out of his car, ignoring the wobble in his knees as she ran onto the driveway waving to him.

“Sarah-” His voice cracked.

“She’s safe. It’s okay, Nate. We’ve got them-”

“How many?”

“A half-dozen. They were supposed to kill Brooker, you, me and-”

Sarah, his wife. Juliet didn’t need to finish. Oliver Crawford had sent killers out for Sarah, too. Nate had to push back a surge of anger.

“I don’t think these Special Ops types even needed me here. Brooker and your brother-in-law. Crawford’s goons thought they were moving guys. Big mistake.” The tension of the past hour brought out Juliet’s natural irreverence. “I like your sister’s husband. He can think in a crisis, that’s for sure. Of course, Sarah threw up all over the damn place.”

“Sarah threw up?”

“Yeah. Who could blame her, all these assholes coming to kill us. For a tough guy, PJ North doesn’t like vomit.”

Nate’s mind was turning to fuzz, which wasn’t like him. “Why did Sarah throw up? The fear-”

“I don’t think it was fear.” Juliet looked uncomfortable. “Talk to her about it. FBI and God knows who else will be here any sec.”

She returned to the house, and Tyler North, compact, superfit, joined his brother-in-law on the driveway. He’d performed Special Ops missions as an air force search-and-rescue specialist under the most grueling, dangerous conditions imaginable. But, right now, he was grimacing. “Man, Nate. I hate barf.”

“What about the guys who came to kill you all?”

“Piece of cake. Brooker’s watching them until all you law enforcement types relieve him.”

Sarah, pale but okay, appeared behind her brother-in-law. “It wasn’t the bad guys trying to kill us that made me sick to my stomach.”

Nate tried to smile through his own tension. Since the call from Huck, he’d been on autopilot, doing what he needed to do, relying on his training, his experience. “Some new casserole recipe?”

“I only have my grandmother’s casserole recipes.”

“Come on, Nate,” North said. “You have two sisters.”

He felt his knees going out from under him.

A baby.

He looked at his beautiful wife, at the moving van-his younger sister, Carine, coming off the porch with her and North’s little boy in her arms. His sister Antonia and her husband were joining them later, with their baby girl. Nate’s head spun. Orphaned at seven with two little sisters, he’d never seen himself settling down this way. He’d never allowed himself to believe he could have this kind of happiness. The thought of a wife, children, a house used to scare the hell out of him.

Police cars streamed into the driveway. Local, state, FBI, marshals.

Ethan Brooker joined Juliet, car keys in hand. Juliet, who had a big family of her own, some of whom were endangered last fall because of her work, touched Nate’s shoulder. “Shit’s hitting the fan in Yorkville,” she said. “Sarah and your sister and brother-in-law can answer questions here for the time being. We’re on our way. What’re you doing?”

Nate hesitated, but his wife shoved him. “Go, Nate. Do your job.”