“No, Ned, that’s not how this works.” Wanda kept her tone civil, even if her knee jerk reaction had been to just hang the damn phone up. Lieutenant Commander Ned Wagner, Naval Intelligence was a real pain in her ass. “You owe me a favor, not the other way around. So why are you bothering me?”

The sheriff and two deputies were combing the trailer. From a dozen feet away, Wanda kept an eye on them while keeping her distance. Dealing with local leos hadn’t fallen into her job description when she’d been overseas. Hell, she’d almost talked herself out of even contacting the sheriff when a small fire had broken out.

Fortunately, no one had been hurt. The stink of smoke in the air made her nose itch. Two of the smaller tents had been damaged, and while frustrating, their loss wasn’t enough to shut down the show. Roger was already in the process of rearranging the performance layout and getting the collapsible stand set up inside the big top.

Mentally she reminded herself this wasn’t the worst problem she’d ever faced. However it was comparing apples to oranges to liken damage to her family’s circus to any challenge she’d undertaken for the CIA.

“ Wanda, are you even listening to me?” Ned’s aggrieved voice reminded her he was on the phone.

“No, I’m not.”

“You haven’t even heard what I want.” Damn, it was a good thing he was pretty.

“I think you need to introduce your upper lip to your lower lip, and shut up.” After grinning briefly, she took a long drink from her coffee. “I’m out. Fini. Done. Think of me as pushing up daisies, if it helps.”

“Why the hell would thinking of you dead help?”

“Neddy boy, I didn’t think you cared. Or let me rephrase that, I don’t care if you do. I put in my papers. I’m retired, lose my phone number.” No matter how vehement she was, she kept her voice low. Sound had a way of carrying in the open space, and no one gossiped like carnies.

“Even for an old friend? That’s kinda harsh.”

“We weren’t that close.” It was time to end the conversation. No matter how she phrased it, Ned wasn’t likely to take no for an answer. It was his job to get her to say yes, she understood that part. It was nothing personal. It was business. Except, personally she didn’t want anything to do with that business anymore. Hell she barely wanted anything to do with the circus, and if it wasn’t for her family and what her grandfather needed, she wouldn’t be here either.

“Still harsh.” His amusement told her she wasn’t being harsh enough. “Do you think I could talk to less sarcastic Wanda for a moment?”

“If you want to talk to less sarcastic Wanda, be less stupid. I got work to do Ned, don’t call me and I don’t plan to call you. Later.” She ended the call as the sheriff glanced in her direction. He did not look happy. Well that made two of them.

Her phone buzzed with a new call, but she recognized the blocked number. And she'd already answered once, so shame on her. Declining the call, she slid the phone into do not disturb then put it in her back pocket.

Wanda planned to be as cooperative with the local law enforcement as she could be, her people had to come first. Frankly the whole thing looked like a prank to her — just like the graffiti. Even the ill animal could be put down to normal course of events; the elephant wasn't the first one to get sick and wouldn't be the last. As an organization, the Merry Circus put the welfare of their animals first. That was why the elephant was back in Vegas. Fires happened, too. Also not her first and likely not the last.

Individually, all par for the course when it came to running a circus on the road. Yet all of these occurred in rapid succession over the course of five days? The damaging fire having happened mere hours after noticing the blood on the trailer door? Coincidence only stretched so far, and furthermore Wanda didn't believe in coincidence.

"They find anything yet?" Baz's familiar voice reminded her to put her game face back on. Former Naval intelligence himself, Baz retired a few years after she had gotten started. That fact the only reason he was with the troupe, was the last favor she had done Ned.

"Pretty sure the blood tested positive." She hadn't needed the sheriff to tell her that, she could read body language as well as the next person. Maybe even better. One thing her CIA recruiter had loved about her was all the years spent in the circus cultivated her ability to read an audience. Some audiences wanted funnier. Some wanted more daring. One thing they all had in common — they liked to be deceived.

"That’s not creepy at all." His nonplussed tone suggested he expected nothing less. Not that she could blame them, she hadn't expected anything less either. "Roger’s spinning a good yarn, but we'd be better off making sure everyone's aware there's a potential threat."

"No shit. I know everybody working for us, we don't have any new performers on this run." Another plus, some circuses had a high turnover rate — the Merry Circus never had. People loved her family, and why shouldn't they? She loved her family. They were loyal. Straightforward. They made money, and remained successful in a climate where online entertainment had rapidly begun to outstrip the cost-effectiveness of the traveling show. Still, they didn't raise their prices nor did they change their style of doing things. They were familiar. They were entertaining.

Hopefully they'd still be here when the dust settled.

"As soon as I have something to tell them I will. For now, Roger is reminding everyone that we share responsibility in keeping an eye out. Kassetti and the vet aren’t letting the animals out of their sight. I need you to spell them periodically make sure they eat and sleep. I'll do my time as well." They could replace tents. They could repair equipment. Losing one of the animals? It would be like losing one of her people. Unforgivable.

Dead calm existed in her gut. Maybe the call from Ned had been nothing, but couple that with all the other events — something was up.

"You got it. I need a favor."

What was it with people and favors today? Did she look like the goodwill fairy? "Depends on the favor."

"Don't be pissed. I made a few calls, and I got us some help."

Baz was damn good security all on his own, and when he'd said he needed to be out of town for a while and shown up on her doorstep in Vegas, she'd offered him a job. It didn't matter that Ned called ahead and told her Baz needed to disappear. At least in this case disappearing meant fade out of site not be buried in a ditch somewhere in the middle of nowhere. She'd had a couple of calls like that before — another reason she was no longer an asset of the CIA. All that said, she wasn't all that keen on taking on locals to be part of the crew.

"This is more than hammering a few nails and putting screws in the midway equipment." Besides the fact that there was already a potential threat plaguing them, did they really want to open the door to inviting the danger to come hang out?

Paranoia wasn't just a fragrance for men.

"Darlin' I was born in the morning but not this morning you know?"

Ugh. She hated old-timer speak and he damn well knew it. Still keeping an eye on the sheriff, she said, "We've had this conversation. Get to the part I'm not supposed to be pissed about." No she hadn't forgotten his caveat.

"I got us some help," he repeated his earlier statement. "Yes some of them are local, but all of them are skilled."

The careful phrasing didn't escape her. "What are they skilled at, Baz?"

"Come meet them, I think you'll like what they have to offer." Still not a direct answer.

"Baz?"

Breaking fingers through his steel gray hair, Baz shook his head. "You are going to have to lay down that chip on your shoulder one of these days before it throws your posture completely out of whack."

"My bones are made out of rubber or haven't you heard?” Undeterred by the good old boy act, she waited. Baz didn’t want to give her a straight answer for fear she’d say no and leave it at that. Flicking a look toward the sheriff and his worried expression as he spoke on a cell phone, she had to wonder if the whole conversation was moot. If the sheriff decided they were too much trouble, he might yank their licenses and the spring tour would be over before they really got started.

"I've heard a lot of things, including your resistance to anything not going the way you have it planned. Give me a few minutes of trust to prove my guys can do more than just help us set up."

There it was. He'd hired some kind of protection. Dammit. "Who are they?"

"Come meet them." Unrelenting. Of course, Baz’s unwavering determination was one of his finer qualities.

"Is Ned involved?" Her voice might've raised a fraction higher than she intended, but if she followed Baz out front and found Ned waiting with more of his Naval Intelligence and CIA liaison peeps on the hook, this was going to turn into an entirely different kind of conversation.

"I wouldn't do that to you." His voice changed, almost modulating an emotional response he didn't want to put on display. Respect for this man went a long way with her, but so did loyalty. She knew Baz was an old family friend for Ned, as well as Naval Intelligence. If he were this guarded discussing someone with those kind of emotional ties — she was better off leaving it alone.

"Let's go." If he suspected anything amiss with her giving in so easily after resisting the earlier offer, Baz didn't say anything. With one last look at the sheriff and his men, she nodded to one of the roustabouts who'd been sticking around close enough she knew Roger had told him to keep an eye on her. Catching his eyes she nodded towards the sheriff. Phil nodded. He’d linger in the area, maintain watch, and find her if needed.

Following Baz through the Big Top, she nodded to the crews still working. Gossip spread faster through a circus than it did in most places. They were their own small town, and what one knew, it was an easy bet so did a dozen others. The only way to keep a secret in a place like this was to tell no one. Like she had with Baz. She knew his history, but she hadn’t told another soul. They saw him as the new guy, experienced in security and trusted by her. It was enough.

“Wanda,” Baz said as he lead her toward four men who all screamed military. “This is Hank Patterson.” The man in questioned straightened. His expression was polite and his green eyes cheerful enough. Didn’t matter, she knew his name. Yeah, these were more than just some local help.

“Tate Parker.” The man in question had dark hair, and dark eyes. He moved with an uneven cadence, favoring one leg over the other. Though not much, it was enough to notice. “Chris Kirkwood.” The third man wore an unreadable expression, but he was as familiar to her as Ned Wagner.

They’d met before. Only, then he’d been Delta Force and went by the name Jammer. Filing the mental note away, she studied the last guy.

“And last, Clayton Wall.” The fourth man hadn’t drawn any attention at all, but he was as military as the first three. His dark blond hair ruffled in the breeze. Though not as high and tight as some military cuts, he couldn’t have been out long enough for it to grow. The blue eyes though, they were the color of midnight and piercing. It was like seeing the deep blue of the sky first thing in the morning, before the sun could lighten it.

Setting aside the absurd poetry of that thought, she cut a look at the dog standing next to him. The German shepherd’s ears cocked toward her, his mouth open and tongue peeking out. He wasn’t panting or at all stressed, but he did maintain physical contact with Clayton.

“Wanda Aiken,” she said before Baz could continue and offered her hand to Hank. He seemed to be leading the little expeditionary force. He gave her a quick, polite handshake and nodded. “Don’t take this the wrong way…none of you look like locals needing a job.”

Hank and Tate both grinned, but Jammer’s expression didn’t change. Chris. Or Mr. Kirkwood. Nicknames weren’t that unusual, but he’d been introduced as Chris, she had to respect it. Clayton’s expression didn’t change either, but his posture did. He wasn’t looking at her, but behind her. The dog cocked his head, his ears alternating between flicking back at Clayton then forward again.

“Sheriff,” Hank called. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Hank. Your guys on this job?”

Wanda pivoted, but the sheriff was already shaking Hank’s hand. “That’s the plan, but we’ll leave it up to Miss Aiken. It’s her place. Her rules.”

“Yeah, keep an eye on them. The circus is popular and I’d sure hate to shut it down.”

So would she.

The sheriff transferred his attention to her. “Miss Aiken, we’ll be in touch. We’ve taken samples and documented the vandalism.” Nice choice of words. “So you and your people are free to use the trailer again and clean it up if you like. Let me know if anything is missing, all right?” He glanced in the direction of the damaged tents.

Damn. The fact he added the question suggested he hadn’t accepted her earlier evasion about the smoking heap. Accidents happened, and it was better to keep it that way. Smiling, she nodded. “Will do, Sheriff. Thank you. Free tickets for you and your men and your families on opening night.”

“Appreciate that, ma’am.” Then the sheriff left, and she found the four men watching her probably how she’d been watching the sheriff. No one spoke until after he was out of earshot.

“As I was saying…you gentlemen don’t look like locals needing work.” No amount of shoveled shit would convince her otherwise. So what were they doing here?

“Sorry Wanda,” Baz said. “I pulled rank and called your grandfather. One act is a nuisance. Two a coincidence. After the fire though? Not risking it. He asked me to bring someone in to watch your back. Hank’s local, and he can help.”

“You did what?”

Brick caught the ‘back the fuck off’ signals loud and clear. The woman was stunning to look at, and he’d have to be blind not to notice her. Tanned skin, light brown hair, butterscotch brown eyes, and pale pink lips—she looked like the girl who would seem local everywhere. Dressed in jeans, a blue jacket and work boots, she appeared pretty damn comfortable amidst the controlled chaos of the circus setting up.

Seriously, a circus. It would take time to wrap his mind around that. He didn’t think he’d been to one in…ever. Hondo pressed against his leg, tail wagging once. The motion pulled his attention from the denim wearing goddess. When the sheriff seemed relieved to see them, though, a warning bell went off. Hank told him someone might be harassing the circus, and there had been a couple of accidents.

The less than warm, unwelcome wagon aside—the sheriff radiated concern. Then came the comment about her grandfather. Brick’s issues aside, the whole thing had the stink of set-up. But what kind of set-up?

“The old man asked me to keep him in the loop.” The revelation from Baz definitely wasn’t winning them friends or influencing people. “Before you blow up, I did it so Roger wouldn’t. It was tearing the guy up. He wanted to call him since he’s still the senior shareholder in the circus and this is his baby.”

Brick didn’t know Wanda, but the chillier her expression grew the less impressed she seemed to be with Baz’s explanation.

“I got him off the hook and called him—and…” he said, holding up a hand when her lips parted. “And all I told him was there had been a couple of vandalism incidents, and Roger thought we might want to add security.”

“That old fart probably said do it without telling Wanda, too.” She ground the words out between her teeth, but despite the use of the words old fart, genuine affection colored the words.

“That he did. Ned told me about these folks.” Whatever ground Baz gained, he lost with the last remark. “Said Trudi’s boy Flint knows some of them.”

“Well, Flint and Cannon are friends,” Brick found himself saying. “Friends of friends, anyway.” He knew them and had worked with them. Cannon was a crazy son of a bitch, but a damn good SEAL and an even better friend. Speaking up earned him a pinned glare from Wanda. What did it take to get on the woman’s good side?

“Friends of friends…you’re all military or ex—we don’t have to play games. If Ned recommended you, then you’re special ops.” She faced Hank. “I know you by reputation, Mr. Patterson. I also know about the work you’ve been doing quietly, but efficiently.”

“Eh, not always quietly.” Tate chuckled, but then the man had the nickname of Bear and his laughter came out almost a gruff, huffing sound. “We get the job done. We’re also handy with repairs.”

“Do you know the first damn thing about a circus?” Stiff tone aside, Wanda swept her gaze across them all before she focused on Brick again. He straightened under the scrutiny.

“Nope,” he said, since she’d put him on the spot. “But I do know how to follow orders and directions. If you need a general handy man, I can do that. If you need someone to stand there and look forbidding, we can do that, too.” Though playing watchdog wasn’t his favorite assignment, he wanted to defuse any potential explosion on her part. She had every right to be pissed. Baz had gone around and over her head. “Look, we’re here—put us to work.”

Jammer shook his head. “Always trying to lighten the load, man.” The words were softly spoken from the corner of his mouth, but Brick caught it.

Pursing her lips, Wanda blew out a breath then shook her head. They were close, but no sale. Hondo abandoned him at that point and wandered over to her. The dog had a sixth sense about people, and Brick trusted his judgment. He liked most folks, but if the dog ever met someone he didn’t like?

Brick would just shoot them and save everyone the trouble. Hondo didn’t seem off put by her body language or her tone, instead he sat down next to her and leaned his head against her thigh. Yeah bud, I’m pretty sure she’s wired to go off any time now… Except he hadn’t told Hondo they were working, or put him back on guard since giving him the at east command.

“Seriously,” Brick said, taking the lead when Hank glanced at him with raised eyebrows. It was Hank’s operation, if he wanted Brick to take point on this one, fine. He’d told him he’d help out. “There has to be some crap jobs that go with set up. Jobs no one else wants to do which means they’ll be put off until last or done so hastily, someone might miss something. Give us those jobs.”

A snort from his left was the closest thing he’d heard to a laugh from Jammer in a while. Wanda, however, stared at Brick once more and she dropped her hand to Hondo’s head and began to pet him. They didn’t need Brick, he could have sent his partner to break the ice. Instead of pushing, he met her gaze squarely. Truth be told, Ned Wagner and he weren’t tight, and he didn’t owe the man anything more than he would another sailor.

“What could it hurt to have the extra help and security?”

Still scratching Hondo’s head, she said, “How are they supposed to do that when you don’t know who belongs and who doesn’t?”

Fair assertion. Maybe. “Are you so certain it’s not someone working for you doing this? Baz mentioned earlier incidences.” Maybe Brick should back off, but she wasn’t outright rejecting them anymore and the tension in her shoulders seemed to be easing. Of course, it could also be the fact Hondo had risen to his feet and wagged his tail, but wasn’t walking away from her. The world narrowed down to the two of them, didn’t seem to matter that Hank, Jammer, and Bear were there or the fact that Baz stood just to her right. “If you only had problems here? Then you’re right. We may not be able to identify those who belong from those who don’t—not immediately. You give us a run down on the crew, and picture IDs would be a start.”

Though he didn’t look at Baz, the older man had begun to nod.

“Let’s say the problems came with you, then it’s a bigger issue.” Brick liked to see the whole picture when he could. It wasn’t the bomb you could see that was the issue, though. It was the ones hidden in plain sight that you overlooked. “The way I see it, if it’s just someone giving you a hard time, extra security should scare them off and you get some free labor. Win-win.”

“It’s not free, I’m sure we’ll pay your security fees.” The haughtiness in her tone was gone, but not the impatience. “Fine. I won’t lie and say I want you here, but I try not to be an idiot on purpose. I don’t want any of my people being hurt. Thank you, Mr. Patterson—I’m sure Baz can get you all started.”

Just like that, they were in and she was walking away. Brick didn’t bother to hide his smile, particularly since she was taking his dog with her and she couldn’t see his face.

“I’m going to go with her,” he told Hank.

“You do that.” Grudging humor in every word, Hank waved him off as Brick spread his hands wide, then jogged to catch up to the striding Wanda and Hondo the traitor.

Just inside the big tented arena, he paused when he found her pivoted and waiting. Hondo sat down again. Yep, she was definitely armed and dangerous. “Why are you following me?”

Direct, too. “You’re right. We don’t know the circus, you do. It’s probably better if you have one of us with you or at least in sight.” He held up one finger, then added a second. “Also, my dog followed you.”

The corners of her lips twitched. Damn, was he about to get a smile? It vanished before making a full appearance. Damn. “I doubt either of you are going to follow me up there.” She pointed upward. Tracking his gaze to where she indicated, he did a gut check.

“Why are you going up there?”

“Watch and learn…” Then she glanced down at the dog. “Sweet dog.”

Well, since she gave him the order, he folded his arms and watched her sweet ass walk away from him. No—that wasn’t walking away. That was a saunter.

Glancing at Hondo, he found the German shepherd following her with his gaze and tongue hanging out. Yeah, like he said, he and his dog were in sync. When he checked on Wanda again, she was stripping out of her jacket, and then her jeans.

What the hell…?