Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors 9)

What if the break-in was a cover up for someone closer to home? Seth was in a helluva lot of pain. Could he have helped himself to some relief? Even if he'd been off with Kirstie, he could have tipped off a friend about when the place would be vacant.

His hands ached with memories of his own recovery. There had been more than one moment when he might have sold his soul for an extra shot of mor**ine to get through physical therapy.

Bo studied the man's eyes. The pupils were a hint larger, but it was nighttime.

He shifted his focus back to Vic. It was his practice, so why trash the place if he needed something? And the guy seemed earnest in wanting to help his sister, in which case he wouldn't have stressed her with something like this.

The veterinarian stopped to study one of the folders, cross-referencing with computer data. "I keep thinking about that guy who approached Kirstie at the air show."

Was Vic trying to throw him off the trail by mentioning the air-show guy to him—and to the cops earlier? "Have you spoken to Kirstie about it?"

"Paige and I both talked to her even before this, but the kid's not coughing up any new info other than what you two saw—the back of a blond guy in some kind of repairman's uniform. The discussion seemed to scare her even more until she clammed up. We're walking a fine line here with a kid who's already on shaky ground, given what's happened over the past year." He slapped manila folders in a steady rhythm, the counter slowly reappearing from under the mess of the break-in.

"It's a reach connecting the guy." Although, the encounter still set off more than a few warning bells in his mind.

"That it is. But then, as much as I didn't like Kurt Haugen, I would have considered it a reach that he would ever sink so low." His hands slowed, his shoulder dropping. "Maybe I should have, so I could have saved my sister a load of heartache."

"He fooled people who saw him every day." Bo knelt to rake trash back into a wastebasket, not sure he wanted to follow this conversational path.

Seth snorted. "The guy was in debt up to his ass with his restaurant business. He was ripe for the picking when the mob approached him. Not that it justifies anything."

"Just trying to make sense of it all."

Seth swept off his ratty fishing hat and Frisbee-tossed it across the counter. "It sucks not knowing when the boom might smack or which direction it'll come from, a lot like falling through a barn loft at the Anderson place and busting this damn ankle of mine. Out of the blue. I wish I could be more help in holding my own and watching out for Paige and the munchkin."

Vic clapped him on the back. "Hang in there, man. Not much longer until you're in the air again."

And Bo would be out. His life would be back on track, and he would never see Paige or her kid again. Just like he wanted it. "I can bunk here, too, starting tomorrow."

Hey? Where the hell had that come from?

Duh. From a deep well of testosterone and protective urges that he didn't see any chance of ditching.

Vic shoved aside the stack of restored files and gave Bo his undivided attention. "Another generous offer for my sister."

Seth smirked, jingling change in the bottomless pockets of his cargo shorts. "Purely altruistic, I'm sure."

Bo knew when to keep his trap shut.

Vic blinked slowly. "Thanks, but we have friends we can call."

"I'm sure you do," Bo acknowledged without backing down. A key to savvy aviation involved making fast, smart decisions in a crisis, and not flinching from a set path.

Seth nudged a couple of stacks under his propped foot for higher elevation. "No friends with his military training, though, and I'm not particularly ferocious looking hobbling around."

"Thanks for helping him, Judas." Vic snagged Seth's fishing hat and swatted his shoulder.

"My pleasure." Seth snatched his cap back and folded it into one of his pockets.

A lengthy sigh of defeat ruffled prescription slips in front of the pissed-off vet. "Makes sense for you to sleep here rather than commute all the way out here every day and back at night." He pinned him with a piercing glare. "But you'll be staying in your own damn room."

"Of course."

"Alone." Vic rocked back on two chair legs with a casualness totally negated by the vein throbbing just below the brim of his John Deere cap.

"Dude, I'm here to help your sister, not hurt her. And she is an adult. You'll just have to trust her to know what's good for her."

"Your answer's not reassuring me, Rokowsky." Vic's vein throbbed faster along his temple.