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And a late afternoon flight out of Atlanta on a weekend meant no commuter flights from Albany and hence a four-hour drive. That meant the lingering stain would have to remain a while. He needed to stow the pressure washer and get his shit together so they could get on the road.

The girls were troopers when it came to traveling, but since they fared better if Eva was fed, they stopped at the County Line for pancakes before heading out. His stomach growled, although a low-level nausea pushed up in his throat, coffee burning a hole in his gut. He ordered the steak and eggs, all the while wishing for Cailtin’s strata or one of her spinach omelettes. He ate a couple of bites and pushed his plate back, hands folded around his second cup of coffee, the clink of silverware and china blending with old-school country music, the familiar background noise grating his nerves like never before.

Going through Columbus to Atlanta let him avoid late weekend traffic on 75, although nothing made navigating the airport area better. By the time they settled into their seats, Caitlin a row ahead and across the aisle from him, Eleanor and Eva, his temples pounded, a dull ache stretching over his brow.

Eva wanted to cling, and once they were airborne, he flipped up the armrest so she could lean into him while watching a favorite kids movie. He propped his elbow on the window, watching fields and forests stretch out below them, the familiar deep green and red clay of home.

Over the past nine years, he’d glimpsed that same scenery countless times, ever since that first flight out to Houston, when he’d been just out of compulsory and joining a task force similar to one he’d worked on at the Atlanta field office. He’d walked into a conference room in Houston, looked into a pair of green eyes he’d never forgotten, and one conversation in her office, when she’d handed him that gold-framed photo of Eleanor, told him he was a father, had changed everything.

Somehow, though, he was leaving a part of himself behind in a way his nineteen-year-old self hadn’t understood, driving back to Athens after Daddy’s funeral. That boy had—

He shut the thought down. Nothing of value lay in that past.

Tomorrow. He tapped his knuckle lightly against the window. He needed a plan for tomorrow.

A team meeting, first thing — no, first was taking his girls to school because he’d missed his Monday while in Virginia. The rotation had started when he’d first come back into Eleanor’s life and he’d been desperate not to miss anything more.

So, Woodfield dropoff, then his team. His team, people he was responsible for.

And the rookies. He’d need time with them, a chance to see who they were so he could see how to best guide and grow them.

Eva’s head bobbed against his arm, and he glanced down to find her drowsing. He shifted, drawing her closer and adjusting her to a more comfortable position. Eleanor was already asleep in the aisle seat. His gaze tracked forward to find Caitlin reading on her tablet.

He tugged his phone from his pocket and started a meeting agenda. To begin with, he’d have everyone bring what they had, then delve into individual debriefs. He grimaced at the idea of a one-to-one with Aviles, but it was what it was. The guy was a difficult asshole, but he produced. Intelligent and insightful, he understood the criminal mindset. Hell, he could have been one in another life.

Sending the calendar invite with the agenda attached, he leaned back, Eva a solid weight on his ribs. Eleanor’s quiet breathing filled his ears, the funny little snore that always tickled him and settled him when he checked on them at night. He wouldn’t have that snuffling around the house too much longer, only a couple more years.

Ahead of him, Caitlin brushed her hair behind her ear and scrolled to the next page. Holy hell, he loved her so much his chest hurt.

The way Gene loved Louise.

Maybe the way Daddy had loved Mama, although his memories of that last year tended to overshadow everything. His remembrance of his father got caught up in losing Will that summer, of Daddy falling apart, the smell of Wild Turkey and acrid smoke.

And after that, cigarettes and cheap alcohol, sex that didn’t mean anything.

He clenched his hand on his knee. He hadn’t been blackout drunk since the night before he’d met Caitlin on spring break his senior year at UGA. He’d walked away from her, but even then, he’d known he couldn’t be that person anymore.

That boy had been on a path to destruction as surely as Daddy had, alcohol and grief threatening to cost him everything.

Hell, it had cost him six years of his daughter’s life, of a life with Caitlin.

He shut that down.

That wasn’t him any longer. He had it together.

And he’d keep it that way.

Chapter Four

Over My Head

“Christophides Transport’s lost three trailers in the last month.” Aviles scrolled up on his tablet. “Old River reported two in the same time period.”

Tick scrawled timing window? in his field book and nodded. He glanced up, meeting the older man’s dark, cold gaze. The guy’s eyes were blank as always — they were always blank unless he was screwing with someone. Then they lit up. Hell, those normally reptilian eyes gleamed when he was playing games with somebody.

“Thank you.” Tick gave the briefest dip of his chin.

“Of course.” A self-satisfied grin stretched Aviles’s lips. The asshole was waiting for him to fail.