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“And you think asking a few dipshits some sticky questions is going to do this?” Dawg flipped his hand over the files in disgust. “I didn’t see a damned thing in there about Freedom’s League or a network of homegrown terrorists. ”
“You didn’t read her file,” Natches told him quietly, his gaze still locked with hers. “I did. ”
Chaya pressed her lips and dropped her eyes. She had asked the questions she knew could come back on Natches and his father. How loyal was he to his father? He claimed he wasn’t, but family ties often had strong undercurrents. And Natches wasn’t always as easy to read as he pretended to be. In some areas, his secrets went far deeper than most people could imagine.
“The questions Cranston is sending to me now are becoming more specific. Centered on Johnny, his friendships, and his ties. And there are certain threads that bind each one. Johnny’s parentage. ” She watched Dawg’s jaw bunch. “His loyalties. His friends. Who he associated with the most, because within those groups, we’ll find the contact we need. ”
“Not in that group of names you won’t,” Rowdy snorted. “I’ve gone over these files, Agent Dane. There’s nothing here to identify any kind of leader of a homegrown militia network. These people are misfits. They can’t decide where to use the bathroom next and you expect me to believe they’re part of some growing grassroots terrorist group?”
“I’m more inclined to believe they’re the pawns of such a group,” she snapped back. “I’ve worked this case for five years, Rowdy. I know the signs. And they’re all here. ”
“Who in Somerset could organize and lead something like this?” Dawg looked to the others then his eyes flashed with anger as he leaned toward her. “Fucking Mackays. Me, Rowdy, Natches, we could do it,” he snarled. “Is Cranston after our asses now?”
She shook her head.
“Bullshit. ” His hand slapped the table. “There’s no one in this county with more expertise in military, paramilitary, or plain dirt-assed killing than the three of us. ”
A sniper assassin, an explosives assassin, and Rowdy, one of the Marines’ finest commanders. They’d all left the military early. For Dawg and Natches, after one tour, both with medical discharges. Rowdy had taken two tours and signed out. No sooner had they returned than the League had begun growing within the area.
“I investigated that option myself,” she told them, staring back at Dawg coolly. “You don’t have the ties nor do you personally have the temperament needed for such work. ”
He almost gaped back at her, rising halfway from his chair as Natches stood fully to his feet.
“Don’t tell me I don’t have the temper for it, little girl,” he snarled. “That piddling-assed little car bomb that took out your agent looks like a firecracker compared to what I’m capable of. ”
“Back off, Dawg,” Natches warned him.
“Leave him alone, Natches. I can handle it. ” She smiled back at Dawg tightly as his wife came up behind him, her eyes sparkling in anger as she glared at Chaya.
“ ‘That piddling-assed car bomb,’ as you call it,” she bit out, “had a signature. We’ve tracked it before. ”
“I don’t leave fucking signatures,” he snarled.
“Exactly. You don’t. And that alone is your signature,” she told him. “Don’t play dumb, Dawg, just because you don’t like me. ” Chaya came to her feet, her hand gripping Natches’s wrist. “You, Rowdy, Ray, your wives, and your closest friends were investigated first. Thoroughly. I headed that investigation. I know how thorough it was, because I knew none of you were evil. Snarky, damned mean when you need to be, and so damned arrogant you make a woman’s back teeth clench. But you’re not traitors, and you’re not terrorists. And I proved it. ”
“She’s right. ” Alex spoke up, drawing their gazes. He was leaning back in his chair, his gray eyes lit with amusement. “You’d make lousy terrorists, and you made lousy soldiers. I believe that’s why the Marines let you all go so easy, because you don’t follow orders worth shit. ” He leaned forward and smiled placidly. “But they think I do. And Chaya knows her stuff. She’s not the only one who’s been working this case. Now, if we’re all through playing these little power games, maybe we can get back to work here and figure out who the hell Timothy is chasing. Just in case he hasn’t figured it out himself. ”
Natches stared back at Dawg, furious, bordering enraged, but the rage wasn’t directed at his cousin. It was building inside him, threatening to burn out of control, because of his own suspicions. No, his own certainties.
He let Chaya pull him back to the chair and ignored her worried looks as the work continued. Finally, she moved away from them as Alex filled them in on the Freedom’s League and their ties. It was information she already knew in abundance. She knew it, because that damned organization had killed her daughter.
He watched as she moved to the living room, sitting outside the group of women. Finally, Maria drew her forward, her smile kind. Maria was the kindest damned woman Natches had ever known until his cousins began falling in love. They had chosen women with those same qualities.
Finally, Chaya and Crista were talking. Natches watched them, noticed Dawg watching them, and caught his cousin’s eye. They were going to have to talk about this, and soon. He couldn’t figure out Dawg’s problem with Chaya, and he was beginning to not even care what the problem was. It was going to stop.
Finally, as the hour grew later, they stood and stretched, shook their heads and admitted they would have to wait on Timothy. Natches stayed silent, watchful.
Chaya was exhausted and he led her to bed, tucked her against him, and waited for her to go to sleep. While he thought. And all the thinking in the world wasn’t helping him to make sense of the knowledge brewing in his gut, or the anger tormenting his mind.
Thinking was only making it worse.
FIFTEEN
Natches left Chaya, exhausted, sleeping peacefully in the bed he’d dreamed of her sleeping in.
When he’d returned from Iraq, he had thrown the bed he’d partied in for so many years right into the lake. He’d come in at night, taken one look at it, and something inside him had shattered.
The man who had slept in that bed wasn’t the same man who had returned to it. The man who had returned belonged to someone now and was no longer the man that bed represented.
