Baron pulled past the guard shack at Sutton Smith’s property. The smile on his face had nothing to do with the tricked-out Escalade he was driving or the success of the trip back home. Ever since the intimate dance and the kiss from two nights before, it had been impossible to stop smiling. And knowing that he would see her again in just a few minutes, only made the smile grow.

He parked the car and hustled inside, nodding at the black suit in the entryway then running down the stairs in a manner that was not playing it cool. He didn’t care. After a day and a half apart, if it got him back to Nessa a couple of seconds earlier, it was worth it.

When he turned the corner into the data room, his pace instantly slowed now that the drive to get back to her had been met.

Nessa had been looking at the doorway before he even came around the corner. The professional Nessa was back—her hair pulled back in a business ponytail, very little if any makeup on, and wearing a black blazer over a white shirt. And of course, her cat-eye glasses that to him looked both professional and playful.

Baron loved this side of her. He loved all the sides of her. In fact, that’s what he truly had fallen for was that every bit of her he’d seen was so attractive. And to make matters better, she was smiling brightly from behind the computer monitor. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

“You made it back early,” she said. “Is that a good sign?” There was something besides just seeing him that had her excited, he could read it in her.

“Thanks to my professional organizer, it went better than expected.” He walked over to her and sat in the empty chair next to her. He wanted to greet her with a kiss, but they were at work and he knew it would make her uncomfortable. He put a hand on her shoulder, savoring the connection and seeing Nessa’s smile widen. “You look like you have some good news as well.”

“I’m excited you’re back,” she said.

“Me too. But there’s more.”

She exhaled in mock frustration. “How do you read me so well? At least ask me what I’ve been up to for last day and a half.”

Baron couldn’t wait any longer to get to her good news so he gave her the info she’d been texting him while he was in Illinois. “Wild guess here, but I’ll go with keeping up our cover by taking tours of Thompson’s fields and spending hours pouring over their records in their office. And with every free minute, doing your data manipulation magic.”

“Spoil sport.” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “And you have no idea the magic I’ve worked. Take a look at this.” She turned to the monitor—monitors actually, since she had three large screens in front of her. Maps filled one of them and the others had spreadsheets, tables, and graphs. “I think I found it!”

“What? Already? What do you mean?” It seemed unlikely that she had cracked the case so soon, but he didn’t want to say that and crush her excitement. He scanned the screens but got information overload looking at all the data.

“I started by uploading the GPS tracking data Mr. Thompson sent over. I built an algorithm based on the pickup and delivery schedules and worked in the patterns of each driver on each route. Then I took the 40 hours of data we’ve collected since you installed your trackers and ran simulations and allowed a margin for statistical discrepancies, then highlighted the outliers and compiled those into tables of expected and actual routes and times and overlaid them back onto the map.”

“Okay.” Baron was following along, but just barely. “And?”

“Right there.” She pointed at a blinking spot on the map. On the other screen, a picture of a clean-cut, 20-something man in a Thompson Produce shirt popped up. “Brody, every Monday through Thursday. If the data and I are speaking the same language, there’s a blip the size of the Grand Canyon right there, four days a week.”

“You think there’s a drug deal going down right there?” asked Baron. He believed in data, but without being able to follow what she was saying, it felt like a stretch to decide that so quickly. He needed to keep his inside voice on the inside for a while so he didn’t offend her.

“Gosh, a drug deal is pretty specific. I know something is going down right there on the outskirts of Tijuana but the types of data I’m dealing with doesn’t give me that kind of info. What’s your gut telling you?”

Baron could think of a hundred reasons for a driver to go out of his way every time he made the trip, from picking up homemade tortillas to driving out of his way to use the cleanest bathroom in Tijuana.

“How far out of the way is it from the normal route?” From what he could see on the map, it wasn’t that far from a highway.

“Not far. But enough to be significant.”

“If it’s not far, how can it be significant? Are you sure about the data? I’m an intelligence guy, but all this is about a mile over my head.”

“The data is the data,” said Nessa. “Are you asking about my analysis?”

“Yes,” said Baron, noticing her spine straighten. “Before you get mad, remember I’m an imbecile compared to you. How confident are you in the analysis?”

“Okay, that’s fair. The more data you throw into the picture, the bigger the margin of error becomes.”

Baron asked, “Is this a lot of data?”

“Well, compared to a spreadsheet with a family’s budget, yes. Compared to the NSA’s terrorist tracking database, it’s not even a blip.”

“So what’s our margin of error?”

Nessa considered for a moment and her mouth scrunched up into a cute circle on the side of her face. “Something is happening right there.” She poked the screen again. “And it’s something that the shipping company doesn’t know about. The model says so. It couldn’t be clearer to me.”

“Something the company didn’t tell us about, you mean,” said Baron.

“Huh?”

“Just because we don’t know about it, doesn’t mean the company doesn’t know about it,” said Baron. “It might be something simple. Something Thompson failed to tell us. Or maybe there’s a gas station there that has Cherry Coke Zero in the fountain.”

“Every driver takes the same route, with acceptable variances, besides Brody. Every commute takes the same amount of time, allowing for traffic which I’ve included by synching the model with traffic history data for each given date. And this stop,” she poked the screen again, “is only made by this specific driver on Monday through Thursday.”

“Traffic models? Time of commute? You’ve thought of everything.”

Nessa turned her head at an angle and glared at him. “Yet you still have doubts.”

“Don’t be sensitive, but—”

“Sensitive?” asked Nessa. “Is that the word you want to use?”

Baron felt the same frustration from the first day when Sutton had sprung her on him. “I only know how to be up front and I’m used to dealing with military men.”

“Did you ever tell them not to be sensitive?” asked Nessa.

“Not exactly,” admitted Baron. “We were more likely to say ‘Why are you all butt-hurt?’ or ‘Don’t get your panties in a bunch.’”

“We’re a team now,” said Nessa. “I’ve had to explain data models a hundred times more complicated than this to people with much less knowledge than you. Just ask me what you want to know without beating around the bush.”

“Fair enough,” said Baron, wishing he’d just been direct with his questions. “You have less than two days of data since we placed the trackers. So how can you …” He couldn’t think of the word.

“Extrapolate?”

“Yes, how can you extrapolate for Monday through Thursday?”

“There’s an anomaly across the data on all Monday through Thursday data that we got from Mr. Thompson. I don’t know what causes it, but every Monday through Thursday at three p.m. it gets really unreliable. I watched Brody’s little detour live yesterday, and I’m almost positive it will repeat today. I was this close to texting you, but it was too much to explain by text, as you’re seeing now, and I wanted you to be able to focus on the important stuff back home. Today at three o’clock,” she poked the same spot on her monitor. “It may not seem significant to you, but to me it’s like a blaring siren and flashing lights.”

“All right,” he said, working through the mission out loud. Before he would have thought it out in his head and on paper but the new, outspoken Baron had a much freer tongue. “Today’s Thursday, so in two and a half hours, our man Brody is going to stop at that intersection. If he’s on the delivery schedule today—”

“He is,” said Nessa. “I checked.”

“Nice. And he’s going to pull in up to that building.” He looked more closely at the screen to figure out what was at that corner.

“It’s a surf shop,” supplied Nessa.

“It’s close enough to the beach to be a real surf shop and not just a cover.”

“You’re right.” Nessa smiled. “But what business does a produce delivery guy have there four days a week?”

“Right. Smart. That’s suspicious.”

“It’s going down today, Baron. We need to be there.”

Baron was so shocked he was at a loss for words for a second. “Uh, no, we are not going to drive to Mexico to break up a drug deal today.”

“Oh we’re not, are we?” Nessa was glaring at him. “Excuse me, I thought we were a team.”

Dang, she felt really strongly about this. “We are a team. As the security expert of the team, I’m vetoing a last minute drug bust. It’s way too dangerous to put it together and there is too little to gain.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” She threw her hands up. “What’s the point of finding the anomaly if we aren’t going to do anything?”

“You want to get in my very conspicuous Escalade and drive to Tijuana, Mexico, right now, dressed like FBI agents and stick our noses in someone else’s business? If there is something going on we are going to scare everyone involved away and then we’ll never know.”

Nessa scowled and Baron noticed one hand clench in a fist. “If we don’t go right now, we have to wait until next week,” she complained.

“Look at it this way—we get to spend three days locked up in this room together.”

That made her smile, but it faded quickly. “If a drug deal goes down today, then that’s more drugs that make it into the country that we could have stopped.” Baron opened his mouth but she pushed on. “You can tell me it doesn’t matter in the scheme of things. That thousands of pounds cross the border every day.” Her cornflower blue eyes grew wide and sincere. “I have zero control over 99.99% of that. But you and I can make a difference right here. Today. How many times in my life will I be able to say that? And how much will I regret it if we don’t go?”

Baron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who are you and what have you done with control-loving, mild-mannered Nessa Dimmick?”

That forced a silent chuckle out. Nessa took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, then put them back on. “I know I sound crazy. I know this is nothing like me. It’s like … I saw these acrobats practicing once. They weren’t using a safety net and everything was very formal, exact, by the book. After running two simple routines, they put harnesses and safety ropes on, and it was like they were an entirely different crew. They were playful and spontaneous, a group of daredevils having fun.” She leaned toward him. “That’s how I feel around you, Baron.”

That hit Baron right in the heart and for a second he thought he might tear up. Being her rock was the best thing he could hope for but it didn’t convince him that they needed to rush to Mexico. “Those acrobats, once they got all free and loose, they fell, didn’t they?”

Nessa nodded. “And the harnesses caught them.”

“That’s what scares me. As SEALs we would plan every detail to the letter. And we’d draw up contingency plans. And contingencies for our contingencies. To do this mission we have to hit the road in like fifteen minutes. And if we fall, and if I have to be the safety net, I’m not comfortable I can do that in a foreign country with no prep time and no backup.”

Nessa tensed again, like she’d strike out at something any minute.

He took her hand in both of his, loving entirely too much the feel of her soft slender fingers in his. “It would make me nervous taking you on a simple tourist trip into Tijuana without planning it. Going down there to surveil a drug deal? I just can’t do it.”

Nessa wasn’t having it. “You said no backup. Aren’t there like twenty SEALs here? And what about all the guards? Let’s take some backup.”

Baron shook his head. “More people just makes us more obvious and introduces more variables. It’s asking for trouble.”

“You’d rather go alone than go without one of your buddies at your back?”

Baron considered. “It’s a toss-up because I wouldn’t go under either circumstance. Monday, maybe, once we look at it more closely and plan it out.”

“Monday’s too late,” said Nessa, emotion coming into her voice. “By Monday there could be another Samantha.”

That broke Baron’s heart. In all his time in the SEALs he’d never had to deal directly with the tears of a crying woman.

She saw him breaking. “Let’s get some backup. Let’s start driving. You guys can plan it in the car for the next hour. Let’s just get on the way. If we get close and you guys aren’t satisfied that it’s a go, we’ll call it off.”

Baron had aborted missions before, and somehow he knew if it came to aborting this one after getting close, it would be the hardest one he’d ever had to pull the plug on.

“Let’s call Sutton,” he suggested, pretty sure that Sutton’s experience in the Royal British Navy would make him likely to agree with Baron.

Nessa thought about that, studying Baron.

“I won’t do it, period, without letting him know,” he said. “And there’s a chance he says to go for it. There’s no downside for you.”

“Okay,” said Nessa in a rush. “Time’s running out.”

Baron dialed Sutton’s number and put his phone on speaker.

“Smith,” said Sutton after one ring.

“It’s Baron and Nessa. Your data genius found something.”

“Brilliant, what is it?”

Nessa spelled out a 30-second run down of the findings. Baron was ready for Sutton to counter with a slew of questions as he had, but Sutton simply said, “Excellent work, Miss Dimmick.”

“Thank you.” Nessa was beaming. “We want to go to Mexico just to watch and see what goes down today. If we leave now we can get there before three.”

“It would have to be just the two of you since I don’t have any SEALs available today. You can take a black suit if you want. Baron, I’m leaving the decision to go or stay to you. If it’s worth the risk, go for it. If not, we’ll set something up for Monday.”

That was better than a huge green light, but it still wouldn’t make Nessa happy when Baron refused to do it.

“Anything else?” asked Sutton.

Baron spoke up. “I don’t think we should tell Thompson what we found yet.”

“Good call,” said Sutton. “If you don’t decide to go today, we can talk to him, find out if he has any idea why that driver is stopping there and make sure he doesn’t tip anyone off.”

“We’ll let you know,” said Baron.

“Cheers,” said Sutton. “You have the expense account if you decide to go.” The call ended.

“So we’re a go,” said Nessa, standing and clapping.

“No, we’re not,” said Baron, keeping his butt firmly in his chair. “He said he will leave the risk analysis to me, and I don’t know enough about the mission to give the thumbs up.”

“It’s the border,” said Nessa. “It’s practically South San Diego. Thousands of people cross every day to go shopping or go to the beach.”

“And every day nearly a hundred people are killed in Mexico due to drug violence. That’s an actual statistic; I’m not just making up a number. I’m sure it’s rare in tourist areas, since there is economic incentive to keep them safe, but by sticking our nose in the middle of a transaction we increase our chances of a bad outcome. I don’t know enough about Tijuana at this point, and a rushed safety analysis is a poor safety analysis.”

Nessa stared down at him. “So you are saying no? Sutton is fine with it, but you won’t go for it? You are taking away the one chance I have to make a difference? ”

Baron stood calmly. “You are like a week out of school, and look what you’ve done. In your career, in your life, you are going to change lives, no matter what field you end up in.”

Nessa growled in frustration. “I’m not saying we go in and make a citizen’s arrest. I just want to be in the area and watch. We can buy some surf gear.”

“No. It can wait until Monday.”

“Why is this your decision!” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Because we don’t even know the surveillance laws in Mexico.” He kept his voice steady, not rising to her level of frustration and not letting the horror of his experience as a prisoner come through in his voice. “I’m the one who’s lived in a foreign prison. If it was just me at risk, I’d go. I’d do it for you, but I will not make a choice that puts you in that much risk.”

“Oh, Baron.” She softened and the air that had inflated her irritation leaked out. “I’m a big girl. Let me make this decision.”

“You asked me to shoot straight, so I will. Would you let a five-year-old be in charge of the SCUBA gear on a deep sea dive? Even if they really, really wanted to do it? As far as you are above me on the data analysis, I’m that far above you on the security and international operations side.”

She was taken aback and just blinked at him. “I’m a five-year old?”

Oh great. Baron knew it was only a matter of time until his big mouth got him in trouble. “It’s beside the point. I can’t in good conscience go. I have a ton of respect for your skills and I don’t doubt what your analysis showed. It’s still not worth the risk to rush a mission right now, no matter how much I care about you. I can’t even describe how much I care about you, Nessa.”

“Well thanks for being my dad, since I’m not a big enough girl to make my own decisions.”

“Monday,” said Baron, wanting to end the argument and get some useful work done. “Let’s plan it.”

Nessa looked at him, her jaw working. She glanced at her chair.

Please sit down, please stay. He didn’t think saying it out loud would help.

“I know you aren’t a coward,” she told him. “So I know you think you are doing this for my good. Please, Baron, please don’t. You’ve had your years of being a hero and making a difference. I want my turn.”

Baron clenched his jaw as he looked at her. It wasn’t the time to think out loud. Once again he weighed the risk versus the benefit in his mind, trying to block his heart from the equation, even though it was begging him to do anything she asked.

“It’s not worth it,” he said. “Anything in the world I can do for you without putting you in danger, name it. I still feel the same about you, I just can’t do this.”

Nessa’s face was unreadable, and it worried Baron. Emotion usually made people easy to read, and he knew she was bubbling inside. He wanted to ask if she still felt the same about him, whatever those exact feelings were. If only he’d been an hour later flying back from Bloomington, they wouldn’t be having this discussion. With all of his heart he wanted to hug her and apologize. The one thing he couldn’t do was put her in danger, even if she held it against him forever.

“If you won’t go,” she said, and now he could sense nerves and fear in her, “then I’m going alone.” Nessa scooped her purse off the desk and walked out of the room without looking back.

Baron, former Navy SEAL who was used to dealing with changes of plans and every possible contingency, would never have predicted that. He felt his mouth drop open as he listened to her footsteps retreating on the stairs.

He hadn’t felt this helpless since his time in the Syrian prison.