“I guess I feel a little outnumbered,” Tucker said, looking around at the rest of the guys. “I’m stuck with a bunch of military misfits out here.”

Jackson said to Cole, “Did we tell about Tucker here? He used to be a cop.”

Cole smiled weakly at the ex-cop. “Does that mean I’m not supposed to like you or something?”

Tucker shrugged. “No, don’t worry. I never actually made it on the force.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said, “he made it here instead.”

Tucker said, “I still haven’t figured out which was worse.”

“The military,” Cole said. “At least for me it was. It wasn’t health issues, they just wanted me gone.”

The misfits had moved on from the dirt bike, bringing their conversation around the side of the house toward the rear. They walked down the slope and onto the patio and Cole could see the beach again. It was still bathed in moonlight.

He wanted another chance to see Annica tonight. He wanted an excuse that could take her away from everyone again, some reason to be alone with her. Alone on the beach, preferably. It could be something believable, an official excuse like Annica’s need for a sudden interview. The sound of waves on the beach would provide cover against anyone listening in. Their secrets, and whatever sounds they’d need to make, would be safe there. Annica could be safe there, too, his body wrapped and protecting.

“What do you think, Cole?” Jackson said.

“Huh?”

“You trust a bunch of misfits like us? Kicked out of the army,” Jackson said, looking at Tucker, “and the police academy.”

“I wouldn’t trust it any other way,” Cole said. “Squeaky clean worries me.”

“Well, I can see that,” Jackson said. “The guys you work for definitely aren’t too clean.”

“Do you mean his security company, or the shippers?” Tucker asked.

“He means both,” Cole said. “That’s why they’re in business together.” He took a moment to describe the scope of operations for both multinational companies: Blackwoods Security Corps, and Kahn Brother’s’ Import-Export. It would be almost impossible to catch them on the global scale, but here in Hilo, Cole offered DARC Ops a chance to get solid evidence on one tiny specific detail of their worldwide operations. “That way you can start super specific,” Cole said. “And work your way out from there . . . if you want.”

“We’ll go broader if we’re asked to,” Jackson said. “We do a lot of nice things, for a lot of people. Even things to better the world, if you let me sound cheesy about it. But our work is usually at the behest of somebody. This thing here was all started because of some trouble our friends Tucker and Macy ran into back on the police force in St. Louis.”

“A crooked police chief, to be exact,” Tucker said.

“Okay,” Cole said. “So all of this is over some asshole in St. Louis?”

“He’s not there anymore,” Tucker said. “Not a police chief, either. He’s been disgraced, but not enough to see jail time. He works for your security company. Blackwoods.”

Cole laughed. “That sounds about right. Good place for an asshole.”

“He’s in a managerial position.”

“Even better,” Cole said. “What’s his name?”

“Greg Gormley,” Tucker said. “Ever heard of him?”

“No. Does he work on the island?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s why I’ve never heard of him. We’re a pretty big company.”

“He’s got an office in California, in the Bay Area,” Jackson added. “He takes care of things along the Pacific route.”

“By things,” Cole said, “I’m guessing you mean heroin?”

Jackson nodded. “So we’re out here to catch him in the act.”

“Why didn’t Annica mention any of this?”

“She doesn’t know,” Jackson said. “It’s a two-tier operation. Compartmentalized.”

Cole frowned. Already, the idea of keeping secrets from her rankled him. “So I shouldn’t tell her?”

Jackson shrugged. “It makes no difference now. We just needed her to stay away from him until we could verify things from our end. I have agents working in Northern California right now. We were just worried about her investigating a little too hard and blowing the cover on that.”

Cole grinned. “She’s definitely capable of that. Well, I mean, investigating too hard. Too much for her own good, probably. I mean, look at me.”

“Look at you,” Jackson returned his grin. “It’s not that I don’t trust Annica.” His face turned serious. “I would trust her with my life, or Mira’s, if it came to it. She’s a damned good reporter, with a bloodhound’s instinct. It can get her in trouble sometimes, no matter how much I try to warn her.”

Cole nodded.

“Again,” Jackson said, “look at you.”

“Well, I’m hoping to stop being trouble for her,” Cole said. “Maybe I can actually help at some point.”

Jackson said, “I think you will. And soon.”

“How?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll have a decoy phone for you, all cooked up for surveillance.”

“Like with a bug?” Cole said.

“A what?”

“Like a phone tap?”

Jackson looked like he’d just heard a foreign word. And then his face turned to laughter. “A what? Man, we are so beyond phone taps these days.”

“Okay,” Cole said. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’ve put in that phone?”

“We’ve been trying to access their servers for a week, with no luck. It’s air-gapped. We can’t reach it from outside.”

“Yeah?” Cole said, trying to keep his face from taking on the distinct look of glazed-over stupidity. He suddenly felt like he was in school again.

“I guess we’ll skip over all the jargon and everything,” Jackson said, “and just say that this is our only chance to get any concrete evidence of what’s going on there. That, and your testimony.”

“What about the actual evidence?” Cole said.

“Actual evidence?”

Cole chuckled. “You’re so caught up with this computer stuff.”

“Computer stuff?”

“Don’t you need actual evidence for a conviction? I’m talking about the heroin itself.”

“Stop thinking so hard, Cole.”

“Gladly.”

“The computer stuff, the surveillance from the phone, that will uncover the evidence we need for the Feds to raid the complex—and to raid it at the right time—to gather the actual evidence. The heroin, and whatever else they have going in and out of there and the United States. We go in early to make sure the official raid comes off right.”

“Got it,” Cole said. “But what if I just skipped to the chase and grabbed that for you guys?”

“The product?”

“The heroin,” Cole said.

Jackson grinned.

“What if I could sneak some out?”

“Stop thinking so hard, Cole. You’re gonna get us all in trouble. You and Annica both.”

“We’ll both be in trouble, or both get you into it?”

“Both,” Jackson said as the rest of the guys laughed.

A voice came from around the corner where they’d just walked from: “Aww, I feel like I just missed that one.” It was Ethan, walking down to their patio—fortunately with no notebook in hand. It was a rarity to find him detached from it.

Tucker said, “You just missed what?”

“I’m surprised you missed anything,” Jackson said, laughing again. “You didn’t plant a bug over in these bushes, did you?” He looked over at Cole, smirking at the mention of the word “bug.”

“No, don’t worry,” Ethan said. “I’m off duty for the night.”

“I can see that,” Tucker said. “You finally put that damned notebook away.”

“He’s got the bug on him,” Jackson said.

Tucker said, “Jack, enough about the bug.”

But Ethan was still all smiles as he joined their backyard huddle. “No, really, guys, I’m all set. I just typed up a bunch of notes and now I’m done for the night.”

“Alright, then,” Jackson said. “So I guess we can finally start talking about what’s really going on here.”

The group laughed.

“I’ve been dying to spill the beans,” Jackson said. “Finally get down to some real talk. Is that okay with you, Ethan?”

“Very funny.”

“Actually,” Tucker said. “We probably should bring up the real story here.”

Cole said, “And what real story is that?”

“The obvious story running in the background. What everyone’s being too kind to bring up.”

Cole said, “And what would that be?” He made a quick scan of their faces. Which one of them knew about him and Annica?

“The story about the only single female here tonight.”

“Annica?” Cole said.

“Come on, Cole,” Jackson said. “It’s obvious.”

“What’s obvious?”

Cole was quite sure now that they had all, somehow, witnessed his surfside indiscretions with Annica. Maybe from some surveillance equipment. Maybe there really were bugs and cameras stationed around the DARC Ops beach compound. Maybe it was nosy Ethan sneaking off . . .

He looked at Ethan, who seemed to be just as confused as Cole felt. Ethan was staring at the guys, looking back and forth between each of them. “What,” he kept saying. “What’s so obvious?”

“It’s obvious,” Jackson said to Ethan, “that after a few more drinks you’ll work up the courage to finally go and talk to her.”

Cole tried to mask his sigh of relief. It was nice not to have been named, but he still didn’t like the topic of discussion. The way it sounded . . .

“What do you mean talk to her?” Ethan said.

“Come on,” Jackson said. “Actually talk to her, like you’ve been trying to do all night.”

“Talk to her?

“Really talk to her. You’ve been practically doing it every other way tonight.”

“Doing what?”

“So you might as well come out and say it.”

“Say what?”

They laughed again, Tucker saying, “You’ve got some kind of puppy-dog crush on her, right? It’s okay if you do. Maybe I would, too, if I were her intern.”

“I’m not her intern.”

“Coffee boy,” Tucker said, “Or assistant, or whatever it is.”

“I’m a journalist,” Ethan said, a sudden flash of defiance across his face.

Tucker chuckled. “I know, I know.”

“We’re not trying to disparage that,” Jackson said. “We’re just wondering what’s going on between you two. It has nothing to do with the case, obviously. And we’re all off duty, even more obviously. And even more obvious than that, you don’t have to tell us shit if you don’t want to.”

“We’re just bantering with you, Dave,” Tucker said.

The intensity in Ethan’s face had subsided. He was smiling now, loose and easy. Just like one of the guys. He said, “You think I should go for it, huh?”

It surprised Cole that he’d even asked the question.

The DARC guys laughed again, a swell of relief flowing through like ocean breeze through palm fronds. Through Annica’s hair . . . It didn’t make Cole feel any relief. He’d rather everyone got back on company time and got serious and back to work. Do anything but talk about Annica.

Jackson had his arm over Ethan’s shoulders now. “Yeah, you guys have both been loosening up, having a few drinks. We’re at a lovely location. Isn’t it lovely?”

“It’s great,” Ethan said.

“And I saw the way she’s looked at you.”

“Bullshit,” Ethan said, stepping away from Jackson and his arm. “She’s isn’t into me.”

That was what Cole was thinking, too. Double bullshit.

“But you’re into her, though,” Jackson said.

“No,” Ethan said. “Bullshit.”

Cole assumed that was the lie.

“What are you guys trying to do? Get me fired?”

“Nah.”

“Trying to mess up the whole investigation?”

They laughed and Jackson said, “No offense, but I don’t think it all hinges on you.”

Ethan’s frown had returned. “So you just want to watch some kind of parlor trick, then? Like I’m a clown or something?”

“We’re just kidding around,” Jackson said. “Blowing off steam. I’m sorry.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Ethan said, staring up at the house windows. “It sounds kinda fucked up, Jack. Is this what DARC ops is all about? Sitting around gossiping about ladies?”

“We work on dirt bikes, too,” Tucker said.

Ethan grinned, all apparently forgiven. “I guess that sounds pretty well-rounded, then.”

It was all laughs and jokes from then on, Ethan and his obvious puppy love. But Cole couldn’t find any humor in it. What was worse was how he’d felt about himself. How he’d let himself feel even the slightest bit possessive over the stupid littlest thing.

His logic, and how Annica’s body reacted to him—in contrast with her and Ethan—told him he had nothing to worry about. He knew that. But just the idea of Ethan flirting with her . . . And these guys egging him on . . .

He’d just met this girl. And he was already feeling this way?

It brought back some unpleasant memories.

Jealousy had been a problem with him in the past. He’d lost relationships over it, squeezing the sand too tightly so that it fell through his fingers. He’d like to think that he’d grown up since his early twenties, but there was this part of him that he could never seem to control. That dark, reptilian part of his brain. It was what got him into so much trouble. In school, in the army, and now at his job. For the most part he had learned to turn it around and use this energy for good, channeling it into constructive endeavors. Where he’d once become possessive, he now only got protective. He could feel the line, too, the delineation. He’d go right up against it and stay there. He could do that with Annica. He’d just allowed his attraction to her to get carried away.

He’d also not been under this type of stress for a long time. It was the same type of gnawing stressor that he’d felt back in the day, at the height of his bad-boy years when he wasn’t exactly good boyfriend material. Perhaps that was stirring up these deep-seated character flaws.

It also could have just been Annica, too. She was like no one he’d ever met. He’d never been with a woman who had a brain like hers. That was perhaps the biggest part of his attraction to her. He knew this from her news writing, but even more so from her emails. Early on, as they got to know each other, each message from Annica offered tiny yet profound views into her soul.

Of course he’d done a little research before that first contact. Nothing fancy. Nothing like the kind of reconnaissance these DARC guy would pull off. He ran her name through a search engine—beginning with the images. God, she was beautiful. He smiled to himself. Perhaps he’d been lost to her all along, ever since he’d first looked into her eyes.