"Treats? Oo-rah!" Austin launched into Darcy's arms. Mary Elise forced her feet to stay still while Darcy led the boys away. Austin was settled and she would only make it worse by following Darcy and pointing out what Austin and Trey preferred.
Relief and jealousy duked it out inside her. Thank God Austin would be okay for now. But damn it, she wanted to stop making lists and start living life. She wanted to be the one packing snacks for those two boys who'd first tugged her heart because of Daniel and then stolen her heart by being themselves.
No way would she let Trey and Austin lose their big brother. Captain Commando would have to learn to accept her help whether he wanted it or not.
Chapter 12
In the home stretch.
Tucked in a corner of the living room, Daniel memorized security codes from Max, for the fishing cabin, for joint computer access. Only a few more minutes and he could hit the road, hide Mary Elise safely away, then forge ahead with his plans to neutralize Kent McRae. Ensuring that ex of hers stayed locked up for life offered the only guarantee of safety.With a little luck, he and Spike could dig deep enough into intelligence files for some kind of connection between Kent and a too-damned-cold trail for a hired gun. And pray the police landed a lead, as well. If the dusting for prints turned up anything.
According to the cops, Daniel's positive ID of Kent McRae outside the condo wasn't enough to place him inside. Meanwhile a restraining order was in the works. Apparently, it was the third Mary Elise had taken out on the bastard.
For all the good the others had done her.
Max clapped a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Anything else you need?"
Answers? "Nah, we're set. I can't thank you enough for this. I already owed you for helping me get the boys out of Rubistan, and now this, too."
"You don't owe me a thing. Just keep your eyes peeled whenever you're flying wingman for Darcy."
"Don't let Wren hear you say that or she'll deck you." Darcy poked her head through the kitchen bar opening and waggled a fruit roll-up at them. "I heard, anyhow. Wrestling match later, Max. Me and you, mano a mano."
"Looking forward to it." Max winked, then thumped Daniel's back. "We'll take good care of them. You just take care of the two of you, and we'll be ready to throw another party by the end of next week."
"I hope so."
"I'll be in touch with you via the secure line 24/7 with updates about the boys and … anything else that comes through."
Daniel nodded.
"Hey, Darce," Max called, hitching his Technicolor swim trunks higher on his h*ps as he strode toward the kitchenette, "don't forget to pack some of those juice box things, grape-blaster flavor. Baker here has gotten me hooked on them."
Max rounded the corner, dodging Trey ducking back into the living room. Trey clutched a fistful of red licorice in his hands, eyes broadcasting more questions with each step toward the sofa. Damn, but he owed Trey a boatload of eggplant for keeping his little brother occupied today.
Daniel scrubbed a hand over his face, prepping himself for Trey's next round of questions. He wanted to be upfront with him. But as much as Trey put on that hoo-ya brave face, he was still just a kid.
A persistent kid. Interrogations in the Air Force training mock POW camp were a cakewalk compared to the inquisition of two little boys.
Plunking down on the leather couch, Trey waited, his eyes demanding answers with the same imperious right-to-know their old man had mastered well.
Daniel dropped to sit beside him. "Trey, I'm sorry about all of this."
"It's okay."
"No, big guy. It's not. But I'm going to do my best to make it okay again."
Trey peeled a strand of licorice off. "Is Mary Elise in trouble?"
"She didn't do anything wrong, if that's what you're asking." Other than not come to him in the first place, but then that was as much his fault for closing the door between them years ago. "But yes, things are a mess for her right now, and she needs a friend."
Trey unraveled another strand, slowly, then another. "My dad was trying to help her, wasn't he?"
My dad? Daniel wondered why the kid had the power to rile him with one little freaking pronoun. "Yeah, Trey," Franklin Baker the third, "your dad was trying to help her."
"Help her with what?"
His brother couldn't be bought off with a video-game promise. Honesty worked for a reason. He just hoped the kid could understand something that damn well bemused him. "Her ex-husband isn't a nice guy. He wants to hurt her, and I can't let that happen."