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Nick drove the Secret Service vehicle up to his family home, and Isabelle stared at the big old colonial, trying to imagine the stoic man beside her growing up in a house like this. She’d pegged him as the owner of a Spartan condo in D.C. But this place was the opposite of stark and functional. Shrubs and trees grew everywhere. Lush flowers overflowed in pots on the huge, spindled porch. More blooms lined the path to the front. She could smell their sweet scent from here. “Your home is beautiful.”

He sat in the car, staring at the edifice. “I wasn’t in any hurry to leave here, I’ll tell you.”

“Why did you?”

“Big dreams.”

“Which you’ve accomplished.”

“I guess.” He turned to her and removed his ever-present sunglasses. He’d gotten some tan since his time at the lake, and it looked good on him. “What about you, Isabelle? Did you have big dreams?”

“No, I left those to Jimmy. I got everything I wanted in life, though.”

His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry you lost your husband.” He’d never mentioned Michael before, hadn’t spoken much in that personal tone.

“I am, too. But as I said before, it’s time to move on.”

“With the teacher?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.”

“Whitney says Olsen’s got a thing for you, too.”

She didn’t reply.

“You know that, like you knew Hanover does.”

“I might be introverted, but I’m not naïve, Nick. I’ve seen interest from both of them.”

He turned his head away. “When this is all over, and I go back to D.C. you’ll have plenty of time for courting.”

She waited a beat, then said, “I’ll miss you, you know.”

A rap on the window made them both jump. Then Nick buzzed the glass down. “Hello, Mama.”

His mother leaned in, cradled his face and kissed his cheeks. “It’s wonderful to see you, Nicky.”

“Let us get out and I’ll introduce you.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Remember, no questions.”

“Yes, son.”

Nick exited the car, and as always, he came around to her side and opened the door. His close proximity was a must for precaution, he’d said, and to expect him to be near physically. Isabelle got out and they circled the hood. “Hello, Mrs. Marino. I’m Isabelle Barton.”

Nick’s mother was a sturdy woman, and even at sixty-eight, she seemed fit. Her silver, bobbed hair shown in the sun. She wore simple navy shorts, a light blue T-shirt and canvas sneakers. “Hello, Mrs. Barton. I’m to ask no questions about your circumstances, but I do know who you are.” She smiled. “Please, call me Deidre.”

“And Isabelle for me.”

“Thanks for letting us come, Mama. And don’t worry, you’re not in any danger. An advance team has surveilled the area, and there’s no unusual activity. Besides, the personal details of agents are buried deep.”

“I know. And I have the best protector in the world in you.” Again, she cupped his cheeks. “A mhic ó .”

“Don’t let Gabe hear that I’m your favorite.”

Deidre Marino’s eyes clouded. “I wish he could have come with you.”

“He’s tracking down a lead for us. If all goes well, he’ll come home soon, though.”

“Ah, my heart sings at that.” She touched his shoulder. “Now, let’s go inside. Your father is out back, weeding the flower beds.”

As natural as day coming after night, Deidre linked arms with Isabelle. “Tell me what you like to eat, Isabelle. I’m Irish and Tony’s Italian, so my repertoire is large.”

“I eat anything. Please don’t fuss. Cook your regular meals.”

“That I will, then.”

The inside of the old house was the opposite of Trey Hanover’s. The living room retained its original dark wood trim, polished and shiny, with two seating areas and simple furniture. “Come to the kitchen. I’ll call Tony.”

Deidre entered the large open space and called out through the door to the back, “Tony, Nick’s here.”

They heard, “Be right in.”

“This is a beautiful kitchen,” Isabelle told her. “I love all the brick.” And she could smell the scent of marinara sauce cooking on the stovetop.

“Most of the walls are original, but my boys—all five of them—rebuilt what was needed in here over the years.”

“It’s so up-to-date, yet retains the character of the house.” She ran her hand over the granite island. It was cool and smooth to the touch.

Deidre said, “This wasn’t here, of course, when the house was built, but I needed something large so they could all serve themselves.”

“How did you manage raising five children? I have twins and they wear me out.”

“Mine were normal kids. I loved being their mama. I didn’t have a second job outside of the home, so I was here most of the time.”

“I like how you phrased that, Deidre. Mothering is a job, and anything else is a second one. I feel that way, too.”

“Good for you, dear.”

Nick had poured himself coffee and leaned against the counter. He was smiling, not an expression he normally donned. And the affection he showed to his mother was equally unfamiliar. She wished…

The garage door to the kitchen opened and in walked a man with big shoulders, a bald head and a wide smile. He wore shorts, knee pads and an old work shirt. “Hello.” He went to Isabelle first. His hand was clean when he stretched out his arm. “I’m Tony. Welcome.”

“Isabelle. And thank you for having me.”

Tony pivoted to Nick. A profound expression spread across the father’s face when he got his first look at his son. He crossed quickly to him.

But it wasn’t Tony’s expression that caused her jaw to drop. The change in Nick was stunning. No longer was he the stern agent. He turned into a man—no, a boy. His features totally relaxed. His shoulders softened. And the sparkle in his eyes showed how much he loved the man before him.

Tony hugged Nick, but it was Nick who held on—clasping his father tightly, even closing his eyes to savor the moment.

And, totally unrelated, Isabelle admitted she wanted that man, not the agent, to come to her with that kind of warmth and affection.

The day after Nick left with Isabelle, Gabe walked into the Catasaga Police Station and asked for Burke Olsen. The man came out to greet him right away, wearing the traditional light blue shirt and navy slacks of the force. Gabe himself had worn one of those uniforms when he’d been a police officer what seemed like eons ago.

“Gabe, hello.” Olsen held out his hand and they shook. “Come on back. The police chief is waiting for us.”

“I’m glad you could get on this right away.”

“Chief Hanks is eager to help out the president.”

I know the feeling. “Great.”

Hanks, a tall, gray-haired man, who by all accounts was a good boss, rose when Gabe entered. “Agent Marino. Good to meet you. Though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“Me, too.” Gabe sat.

From behind his desk, Hanks picked up papers. “I have an outline of what we would normally do in these circumstances, but since you’re the Secret Service agent, you might have some other ideas. Better ones.”

“Let me see what you have first.” Gabe perused the list. “Circulating a BOLO will work, because it stays internal and you can be vague about the reason you want your people on the lookout for Mason. But I’d ask that you didn’t post his picture in the media. That would call too much attention to the town. Your third one is spot-on. I’ve talked with the investigators in D.C. and they think one of our best chances of apprehending him is canvassing local establishments—the motels on the lake, the restaurants—and see if anybody recognizes the guy.”

 “Huh!” The chief gave a hint of a smile. “Sometimes the old ways work best. And he’s most likely using an alias, so pictures are needed.”

“Meanwhile, I’m working with the D.C. investigative team for background on Mason. Their information is sketchy, but I should have more by the afternoon.”

“We’ll start now then.”

Olsen walked Gabe out. “How’s Isabelle holding up?”

“Didn’t Nick tell you? They’ve gone out of town for a while.”

His blond brows skyrocketed. “Where?”

“Nobody knows. Their location is undisclosed. Just until we can grab this guy.” Gabe and Whitney were the only ones who would know where the president’s sister was.

“I’m surprised they didn’t tell me.”

“I am, too. I know you drive by the house to keep an eye on her.” Actually, since they didn’t trust anybody, leaving Olsen in the dark was intentional.

The man’s eyes turned cold. Was he professionally pissed off because he’d been excluded? Or was something else bothering him? In case it was the former, Gabe said, “This was a late-night decision, Burke. I’m sure Nick’s planning to phone you today.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“See you later.”

Gabe left the police station and found his car in the small parking lot. Once inside, he made some notes in his phone.Check out Olsen again, though that had been done. Call Nick.

As he started the car, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, smiled, then clicked on. “Hey, Macy. How are you?”

“I’m terrific, handsome. How about you?” As it was hot out, he bet she’d have that strawberry-blond hair in a braid, and was dressed in shorts and probably a peach shirt, as she favored the color.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I wondered if you’re doing okay. On track to get what you’re after.”

She knew how much this chance meant to him. Not many people did, but one lonely night, he’d told her of his fall from grace. “Oh, damn, I should have let you know I arrived and am settling into the job.”

“You don’t owe me that.”

“Yes to both questions. I’m okay and making progress in the case.”

“Oh, Gabe, that’s super. I hope it all works out.”

“This assignment is temporary. But about what I just said? I do have to apologize. Simon is probably worrying about me. I told him I’d call when I got up here.”

“He is.” Her voice pitched lower. “But I was, too.”

“Again, I was thoughtless. Thanks for missing me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Is Simon there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yep, he’s right here. I appreciate you doing this. He has been asking.”

He didn’t want to let her go. “And Mace?”

“Yes?”

“Keep one of those bar stools empty for me.” She owned a restaurant near the training center.

“Will do.”

After he talked to the boy, he disconnected but held the phone in his hand. Macy Stevens was a doll of a woman. He valued her friendship, and if, at times, he thought he might want a romantic relationship with her, noticed how her brown eyes lit when she saw him, he let the notion go. First, he was hoping to get back in the field, and no woman should have to put up with that. And second, the biggest hurdle, her late husband was killed by a bullet five years ago while on a Secret Service advance team, and she still had the scars from that one.

What the hell are you doing, Marino? Thinking about a woman while you ’re on a mission you ’ve been waiting five years for.

Shifting gears, he blanked his mind of all but how to find the man who might want to kill the president’s sister.

Nick accompanied his pa outside to help in the garden. The sun was bright and he’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt and should have also put on a cap. He’d told Isabelle that she needed to stay in his sight, so she sat at the umbrella table with his mom. He wondered what they were talking about.

As he yanked weeds around a hydrangea bush, as the scent of the rich loam of the overturned earth filled his head, his father fertilized one of the flower beds. “Don’t wanna pry here son, and I’m not asking for private information, but tell me about her. She seems nice.”

Nick struggled with a dandelion. “She’s sweet. A terrific mother. Kind to everybody. She had a stubborn streak when this all started, but now she’s more amenable.”

“She in real danger?”

“Yes. Nobody knows who I am in Catasaga, so we’re safe here.” In fact, right from the get-go, Nick and Gabe had asked his parents just to say they worked in the government.

“You told her to stay in sight.”

“For a while.”

His pa sat back on his heels and stared at his son. “You like her.”

Shit. His father always could read him. It was hard growing up with a dad that astute, but mostly, it had helped all of them navigate their adolescent and teenage years. He unearthed a few more weeds. “I do. Of course. I told you what kind of person she is.”

“That all?”

“What do you mean?”

“You watched her during lunch like you wanted her for dessert.”

“Pa!”

“Don’t Pa me. We talked about everything, everything like this, while you were growing up. You shouldn’t be embarrassed if you’re having male thoughts about her. She’s a pretty one.”

Nick sighed.

“If you don’t want to go there, that’s fine. But if you need somebody to hash this out with…”

Nick sat back and stretched his legs out, bracing his arms behind him. As always, he did need this man. “I am attracted to her, Pa. I don’t know how that happened. It never has before with somebody I’m protecting.”

His father moved to sit propped up against a tree. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s dangerous for one thing. I could lose my concentration. My focus.”

“That all?”

“It’s the primary reason. In any case, this couldn’t go anywhere. I’m angling for the deputy-director job that’s opening soon and getting involved with a protectee would be the death knell for my career.” His eyes widened. “Not to mention what President Manwaring would do to me.”

“Hold on. She’s comin’ over here.”

Glancing up, he saw Isabelle approach them with a tray and glasses. She wore a pink dress and the sun kissed her bare shoulders. Her hair was up in some kind of twist. “It’s hot, and Deidre thought you might like lemonade.”

“Thanks, Belle.”

“Nobody calls her Belle, Pa.”

“Jimmy does.” Her smile gave the sun competition. “And if you’d like to, Tony, I’d be honored.”

His pa grinned.

“Thanks for the drink, Isabelle.” Nick’s hand brushed hers when he took the glass. God, he loved touching her. “Enjoying your talk with my mother?”

“Yep. She’s telling me all kinds of stories about you and your brothers and cousin.”

“I should have warned her to stay professional.”

“Oh, I like this much better.”

Despite his attempt to stay serious, the corners of his mouth turned up. “I’ll bet.”

When she went back to the table, his father said to Nick, “Pretty strong vibes between you two. If you don’t intend to do anything about them, you gotta control your reaction better. But the same vibes are on her end, too.”

Watching Isabelle walk across the lawn, noticing the graceful sway of her hips, Nick agreed completely with his father. He had to buck up and keep his mind on the job.

The Sleep Inn was a bed-and-breakfast a few miles inside the city line. It was smaller than the one where Gabe and Whitney had gotten rooms, but the white clapboard and shuttered windows were well maintained. Like everything else in town.

He walked inside and over to a reception desk. “Good morning, Mr. Cox. I’m Captain Gabriel Marino of the Catasaga Police Department.”

“Yeah,” the little, wiry man said. “I heard you were coming. Wanna talk inside?”

“No, I’m here to check out the room of the man you told the police officer had stayed here.” He held up a picture of Clark Mason.

“Yeah. Mr. Edwards. Tom Edwards. He’s gone.”

“So you told my people. But I’d like to inspect the room.”

“It’s been cleaned.”

Shit! “I’d like to see it anyway. And a team of officers are also here to dust for fingerprints.”

“I told you it’s been cleaned.”

Hmm. The man’s protest to Gabe viewing the room seemed off.

“Humor me.” When Cox hesitated, Gabe added, “I can get a warrant.”

“No need.” He grabbed a key from the drawer and gave it to Gabe. “Top floor, room 24.” He pointed to the hallway. “There’s an elevator.”

“Thank you.”

Gabe headed outside first and talked with the cops who’d accompanied him. “I’m going up. I’ll call you up when I’m done.”

“I’ll come with you,” Burke Olsen offered.

“No, thanks. I’ll do the first look-see by myself.” Gabe needed to be alone up there. When he’d done investigations in the past, both as a cop and as an agent, he always completed a personal inspection. He’d found numerous leads because of his ability to concentrate without distractions and because of his photographic memory.

Burke frowned. “I’m always the lead on things like this.”

“Not this time, Sergeant.”

Another scowl.

Seemed two men didn’t want Gabe here.

Leaving them both behind, he took the stairs, as he always did. Staying in shape was paramount in his line of work, especially since Gabe was forty-five. He opened the door to the room “Edwards” had stayed in.

And whistled. The space was beautiful. High ceilings covered in oak. Woodwork all over. And three windows with a view of the treed back yard. The faint scent of lemon and disinfectant lingered in the air. He scanned the interior. Everything seemed clean to the naked eye, but it wasn’t. There would be prints left on places no one would have thought to wipe. A lamp switch. The inside of a medicine cabinet. And more.

Taking an evidence kit from his pocket, he gloved his hands. Slowly, he walked around the perimeter. It was stuffy in here, but he didn’t turn on the air conditioner or open a window. He inspected nooks and crannies. Under the bed. He’d been at his search only ten minutes when he opened the closet door and shined a flashlight inside. Empty. He examined the ceiling and its corners. Dropping down, he scrutinized the floor. Saw a loose board. It took a second to pry the thing up. A three-by-three space. Empty, too. But wait… His eye caught on something in the corner of the cubbyhole. A piece of paper that had snagged on a nail and was clearly torn off something. Carefully, using the tweezers from his kit, he pulled at the paper. When it came loose, he took the scrap into the room and over to the window.

Brick. The bottom of a parking meter. Sidewalk. Was this a corner of a brochure? Or postcard? Sliding out a plastic bag, he dropped the evidence in and sealed it. He didn’t have any idea where this might be from, but he knew who would. The crack, investigative Threat Assessment Center in the United States Secret Service, where Whitney and her partner worked, could identify nearly anything, anyplace and anybody.

That night, Isabelle surreptitiously studied the Marino family. All three sons were together now that Connor had come home from Catasaga a few days ago. Funny how the siblings differed. Connor resembled Whitney with his Irish black hair and blue eyes, Declan had navy eyes and dark blond hair, and of course Nick, like Gabe, sported dark hair and eyes, though Nick’s was chestnut with lighter strands.

Connor elbowed Nick. “How long has it been since you were here, Nicky?”

“You should talk, little brother. You’ve been away a long time.”

Reaching out, Deidre covered Nick’s hand. “But we’re not concentrating on that, Connor.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Deidre gave him an indulgent smile. “And after so long, we’re glad to have you three under the same roof.”

“I know, Mama.” Connor’s tone was soft and filled with affection. “I’m glad to be back.” The last words were spoken sadly. Something had happened to Connor over there, Isabelle thought, that he wasn’t telling his family.

Declan sipped his coffee. Sitting lazily on the chair, Declan seemed comfortable in the lean lines of his runner’s body. “How long are you here for this time, kiddo?”

“I was waiting to tell you all. I’m not going back to Doctors Without Borders anytime soon.”

“What made you decide, son?” Tony’s eyes were somber.

Nick had said his father always counseled the boys.

“I need a break.” Connor toyed with his napkin and wouldn’t look at anyone. “The work gets overwhelming.”

Declan sat forward. He seemed really serious. Nick told her he wasn’t like that before his divorce. “What do you mean? Break as in respite or brake as in stopping something?”

“I think the latter. But I’m not sure Dec. ISIS bombed another hospital in Syria. Four doctors were killed. The only pediatrician in the area was one of them.”

“That’s a tough one,” was all Declan said.

Deidre made the sign of the cross. Tony’s eyes widened.

Connor turned to his brother. “I was wondering if I might pick up some shifts at your ER in Rockford, though.”

“I’m sure you can. Some of us are in and out frequently, so they need backups. I can mention it to the director.”

“In and out?” Isabelle asked.

“I am. Most of the time.”

“Remember I told you Declan is in the Army Reserve Medical Corp,” Nick explained. “He goes on missions, sometimes as long as a month.”

“I guess I forgot.” In all the excitement. She turned to Deidre. “How do you handle their dangerous jobs?”

An uncomfortable silence.

Then their mother sat up straighter. “We do okay.”

Connor shifted uneasily. “Mama, do you want to talk about what Isabelle brought up?”

“No, especially not at dinner.”

Isabelle bet they were keeping private how hard their sons’ and niece’s work was on them.

“What we want is for you to tell us more about your time in Syria, Con,” Tony finally put in.

“Not ready to do that.” He turned to Isabelle. “How are the twins? If I didn’t tell you before, they’re great kids. I loved being with them.”

“They’re in D.C. for a while, under the watchful eyes of my mother and her security.”

“Nick said our Whitney is with them.”

“She’s a godsend, Tony.”

“Oh, man, don’t tell her that.” This from Declan. “She’s already got an ego the size of Texas.”

“Your own fault.” To Isabelle, Deidre said, “The boys spoiled her.”

“Were the kids happy about going to D.C.?” Connor changed the subject again.

“Mollified, I’d say. My mother spoils them unbelievably. And they get a kick out of being with the president.”

“I can see why.”

Nick was watching Isabelle. She knew why he seemed skeptical of her easy acceptance of the trip. When the small plane came for the twins, with Evelyn Hicks on it, Isabelle had cried in her mother’s arms. Isabelle knew the stress of the situation caused most of her outburst, but she wanted more time with her mom and she was sad to say goodbye to her babies. At least they’d be safe. Luckily, he didn’t comment on that.

When after-dinner conversation died down, Nick stood. “I’m going to show Isabelle where she’ll be sleeping.”

“Go ahead, son.” Deirdre stood, too, and picked up a plate. “The boys will help with cleanup. And then we’ll have my dessert.”

“I think I’ll go—” Connor’s tone was little boyish.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting away with ducking the dishes.”

Nick smiled at the byplay and zeroed in on Declan. “Don’t go before we talk, all right?”

“Sure.”

Nick had taken her bags upstairs earlier, but Isabelle hadn’t seen the room where she would stay. She followed behind him on the stairway off the kitchen to an open floor plan on the second story with spacious hallways and four closed doors.

“We remodeled the house for four boys. Then again, when we got a girl.” He motioned to the second flight of steps. “This was the attic. Fully insulated and tall enough. Whitney stayed up there.”

“Will I?”

“Yep. There’s no exit to the outside in the room and it’s high up. You’ll be safe.”

“Where will you be?”

“We put in a second bedroom for Connor. They’re the same age and wanted to be together.”

“Ah. That’s why they seem so close.”

“I’ll take his room.”

Energy crackled between them. They’d be isolated up there, within close proximity. The notion made her shiver.

“W-where will he stay?”

“In my old room.”

She sighed. “I’ll be like a damsel in distress in a tower.”

“Only these monsters will have bullets.”

She paled. She was trying to be brave but…

“Man, I shouldn’t have said that.” He grasped her arms, rubbed up-and-down. “I forget myself when I’m with you.”

“I’m trying to be brave, Nick.”

Their eyes locked. “I know you are. And you’re doing a super job of it.” Turning, Nick started up the second set of steps.

The top floor was even more spacious, as it housed only two rooms. Nick opened the door to one. “Oh.”

 “Yeah. It’s frilly.” He smiled. “Whitney grew to hate the feminine color, but she never told Mama. Which was sweet. Of course, she was a tomboy.”

“Your mother left it that way?”

“Yeah. Declan’s girls come to stay overnight.”

“How many does he have?”

“Three.”

She edged inside and sniffed. “It smells like girl stuff. Perfume, makeup.” There were two double beds, too, with pastel covers. She had to laugh at all the pink and white. “I love the color, but this is a bit much.”

“I agree. It reeks of estrogen.”

“It’s precious.” She pointed to the side. “Is that the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh, it’s—”

Before he could finish she opened the door. “Oh.” She stared across the room.

“It’s called a Jack and Jill. Two sinks on either side that close off the shower and john.”

“I know. We were going to put in one like this for the boys, but since they insisted on staying in one room, it didn’t seem necessary.” Without asking, she peeked through the second doorway. The room had a king-size bed and a television on a wall unit. “Wow. Was it always like this?”

“Nope. It was covered in Ninja Turtle stuff. Thank God they replaced the turtle bed Con initially had. Sometimes, Declan’s oldest wants her own space and bunks in here.”

“You’ll be comfortable there.”

“I’ll be comfortable when this is over.”

She sighed.

“I know you will, too.”

“Uh-huh.” Damn, she’d be strong if it killed her. “I’ll unpack now. Call me for dessert.”

“I will.” He crossed to her and stood staring down at her. “This has to end sometime. My gut tells me it’ll be soon.”

“Did you hear something?”

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of the family, but Gabe found the room where Mason stayed while he was in Catasaga. They might have a lead to where he went.”

“That’s progress, I guess.”

This time, he raised his hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. Nestle against his chest.

And it wasn’t just for safety.

It was for much, much more.

Because of that, she stepped back. So did he. He watched her a minute longer, then turned and left the room. Isabelle sank onto the bed, closed her eyes and tried to get her equilibrium back.