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Sophie frowned at him. “It’s in the wrong place.”
Isobel smiled at her daughter. “Men can grow hair on their faces, baby.”
“Why?” her three-year-old demanded of Callum.
For a second, his badass outer shell slipped and he looked genuinely flummoxed. “I don’t know.”
“Huh.” Sophie wasn’t impressed.
There was a heavy silence as Callum, Jack and Isobel finished their food and Sophie painted her face with hers.
“I went to the pawnbroker in Campbeltown today,” Callum said.
Isobel stilled, unsure where he was going with this. “Oh?”
“I managed to piece together a little more information on the visitors to the cove. I didn’t like any of it, so I called in some help. I’ve got a member from my old security team coming in tomorrow.”
“Security team?” Jack said, and Isobel appreciated that he was talking. She was too busy worrying about dragging yet more people into her mess.
“I worked for a private security firm in London before I came here.” Callum’s face gave nothing away about how he felt about his job.
“You were a security guard?” Jack said mockingly.
“No. I was a security specialist. My area of expertise is hostage extraction and personal protection in hostile environments.”
“You were a bodyguard?” Now Jack sounded more impressed than mocking.
“When I had to be. Mainly I supervised a team, worked on the logistics of operations and made sure my people got out in one piece when we went into situations that were dangerous.”
Jack looked eager for a second, before he remembered he was a cool sixteen-year-old. “So you know hand-to-hand combat and stuff?”
“I have military training and a black belt in Krav Maga.”
Jack’s eyes went wide. “I have a brown belt in kung fu, but I’ve always thought Krav Maga was better. Is it?”
Callum looked like he was seriously considering his answer. “Krav Maga incorporates some kung fu moves. You’d do well in a fight with either. But if you still wanted to move over into Krav Maga, your experience would make a good foundation.”
“Krav Maga is mean. If I knew that, I’d be deadly,” Jack said wistfully. “It’d be seriously cool to be deadly.”
“There’s nothing cool about being deadly.” Isobel glared at her son. “We’re pacifists. I think. Unless we’re attacked. Then we aren’t. Just you concentrate on schoolwork and forget about being deadly. Now clear the table while I get Sophie ready for bed.”
Jack rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Isobel scooped Sophie up and carried her from the room. As she passed through the door, she thought she heard Callum say, “It is seriously cool to be deadly.”
By the time Isobel had put Sophie into bed, Callum had secured the house for the night. She’d spotted him going from room to room, checking windows, with Jack trailing behind him. It was obvious that Jack was interested in everything Callum was doing. It was also obvious that he was trying hard to hide his interest.
“Homework time,” Isobel said as she walked into the living room, where Callum was raking through his bag. “Don’t spend the time chatting online with your friends.”
“As if.” Jack made a detour to the kitchen to stock up on snacks before heading upstairs.
Isobel knew he wouldn’t hang out online. They had the cheapest internet connection they could find and had to be very careful about how much data they used. Basically, their connection was enough to allow him to do his schoolwork and not much more. She turned back to Callum.
“You got everything you need?”
“Aye.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t want to say in front of the kid, wasn’t sure how much he knew, but I spoke to the pawnbroker about the amount of money he gave you for the camera equipment.”
Isobel felt her stomach plummet. “Did he tell the police I sold him stolen goods?”
Callum gave her a look that said he was questioning her IQ. “He bought those stolen goods, remember?”
