Marc had little time to think as the weeks passed. He’d been flying back and forth to Finley Creek on a weekly basis, but over last two, he’d had to spend much of his time down near the Mexican border and over at the Gulf Coast.

There’d been another flare of contraband trafficked in through several Gulf coast towns. He had more holes in his defenses than he had plugs, and he knew it. Brownsville was being hit especially hard.

Illegal drugs being brought in were just one of the problems that had surged in recent months. The rest of the issues were internal. Prescription drug abuse, meth manufacturing, and now that damned Opal Joy had been found in Rusk County. Two hundred seventy-five miles away from it’s Finley Creek origination point. He needed to find out how and why and fix that. Quickly. Before Opal Joy spread throughout the state and beyond.

They’d had reports of two more teenagers, both sixteen, ODing on a bad batch. Two more sets of parents devastated.

Marc’s sources had found nothing—someone had covered their tracks thoroughly. His man with the Finley Creek TSP, Detective Gunnar Erickson, hadn't found anything other than more reports of overdoses littering the countryside between Finley Creek County and Rusk County.

Everything was stalled, it seemed.

Erickson had worse news. He’d been hunting down information about the man who had nearly killed Rafe and Jillian. All they had was the man’s employment records and three previous addresses. No family, no friends. Nothing to explain how or why a simple delivery man named Don Garven from Claireson Pharm had killed a pharmacy tech at Finley Creek General—or why he had suddenly turned on Jillian that day.

Marc had a theory—and it was circulated around Opal Joy. That dead chemistry tech had been intelligent enough to figure out that meth plus Solpalmitraln plus a few other things equaled one hell of a profit.

The delivery guy had access and distribution contacts, no doubt. And would have known exactly how to smuggle packages out of the hospital.

That even gave him motive for killing the tech.

She’d outlived her usefulness.

Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars had been in her bank account. Almost double that had been in Garven’s.

They had two dead leads—literally—and no idea who was the next step above on the Opal Joy ladder.

Marc knew these things took time, but he wasn't a very patient man. He never truly had been. But he reminded himself that Garven hadn’t succeeded.

Rafe and Jillian were home and happy together.

Marc smiled, his brother knew how to go after what he wanted, when he wanted. And Rafe had certainly wanted Jillian.

Marc had known that for a long while. The small fiery redhead was almost made for his brother. He knew Rafe had been lonely these years.

If there was one thing Marc understood it was being lonely. He’d been alone for almost five years.

Isaac would turn five in two days.

Isaac’s birthdays were always double-edged. The day he got his second miracle. And the fifth anniversary of when he’d lost Carissa.

It hardly seemed possible that Carissa was gone. He saw little bits and pieces of her in their two children. Katie especially favored her mother, with the same pale blonde hair and big dark brown eyes. The tiny dimples, and her mother’s smile. Isaac also favored Carissa some, but his was more a matter of personality than appearance.

In appearance, he was a carbon copy of Travis. Carissa's personality mixed with Travis' charm—Marc wouldn't have his son any other way.

His children were good kids, when they weren't being devils. Unfortunately, good behavior was far rarer then he'd like now. Marc understood; they were bright rambunctious precocious children stuck living in the middle of a fishbowl. He’d hired personal guards for his family the day after he’d been elected. His kids were constantly watched, and almost isolated. He’d even hired private tutors to free the children up to accompany him whenever he had to travel for his position. If they were in a traditional school, he’d never see them.

They’d run off their current nanny a few days earlier after their latest scheme had ended up with her ankle-deep in the sludge-filled pond, convinced that Isaac had drowned. Marc winced.

He'd thought when they'd glued her to the couch and he had punished them they had learned their lesson about deliberately doing things to set off her anxieties.

He had been wrong. It seemed like they had just tried harder than ever to run the woman off. Marc had to admit, she hadn't exactly been the most personable of people. And had been full of dire warnings at times.

But she had impeccable references and he thought she would be able to handle his children.

He’d been wrong. Rafe had suggested the kids were just trying to get Marc's attention, and Marc knew his brother was probably right.

His kids needed him. And he was failing them. Marc didn't know how to fix the problem. There were few things Marc did not know how to do; apparently being a good father was one of those things.

The one thing that mattered the most. He was going to fix that—somehow.

He looked the two culprits in this latest escapade—this one was a harmless caper involving Travis' puppy that they were currently dog-sitting for the day—with a stern glance. "Horace could have been seriously hurt. Something for you to think about. How would the two of you feel if something happened to him because you failed to take care of him the way you should? The way you promised Uncle Travis and Aunt Lacy that you would?"

They both looked ready to cry and he hoped his message got across. The two of them loved that dog, and today had been a trial attempt to see if they were responsible enough to have a puppy of their own. The answer to that—thankfully—was a no. They would stick with the hermit crabs. "Go wash your hands, put on your shoes, and grab your backpacks. We're going to the Becks for dinner this evening."

They cheered, evidently forgetting about the punishment he was about to give them.

Marc sighed; he’d just rewarded them for their bad behavior, no doubt. Timing; why was his timing always off when it came to those two devils?

They only had one more day until they had to return to their home in Austin. Marc refused to have them lose contact with their family because of his position as the head of the state of Texas. That wouldn't be fair to his kids at all. Family mattered. And that meant Rafe and Jillian, Travis and Lacy. He made a point of bringing the kids home at least every other weekend to visit with his brothers, their cousins, and even Marc's mother when she was back in the area.

He was considering tapering those particular visits off, even though they were rare.

She was getting even more demanding. Since his brothers refused to have contact with her—lucky assholes—that left her for Marc to deal with.

His mother had not been a good mother to Rafe at all. Marc considered himself lucky that Rafe didn’t hate him and Travis for the differences in how they’d been treated.

Or Travis hating him, for that matter. All of her attention had seemed to focus on Marc. Rafe got all of the negative energy. Travis was basically either coddled, or when he’d gotten too old for that—ignored.

Rafe was one of the best men that Marc had ever known. His brother didn't hold their parents’ actions against him and Travis at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. It was the three Deane brothers against the world, and it seemed like it had been forever. Rafe was Marc's brother and he always would be. Just like Travis.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his brothers—including deal with his mother so that Travis and Rafe did not have to. Evelyn Deane was not a good parent, by any means.

No wonder Marc barely knew how to deal with his own spawn. His parents hadn’t exactly been shining examples.

Carissa had been the natural parent; not him. He tried every day to fix that.

The news he had for his brothers was not going to go over well and he knew it. Their mother was coming back to Finley Creek permanently. She had been living in a penthouse in Austin for the last four years. To be closer to her grandchildren. Though she saw them rarely.

Marc did not want her making too much of an influence on his children. She was not the type of woman Marc wanted his children to be around on a routine basis. Period. He and Carissa had made that decision a long time ago and it was one he stood behind completely to this day. And not just because it was what his wife had wanted.

He would prefer limited contact with the woman.

Yet she was already on her way to Kevin Beck’s house. Jillian’s former house. She had no clue Rafe lived right next door. When she found out…it wasn’t going to be too pretty—or easy for his brother.

Marc needed to get there before that happened.

And he needed Travis there, as well. Travis, with his ridiculous constant good humor and his new wife that their mother probably didn’t know about, would make a damned fine buffer.