“Excuse me?” Mark Rogers said from behind his desk in the office several hours later. “What the hell do you mean our business is shut down?”

“Shit, dude. That’s what it says right there.” Jace pointed to the papers on the desk. “Don’t ask me how that son-of-a-bitch did it, but he did.”

“Let me get this straight,” Vann said, his voice echoing through the speaker phone on Mark’s desk. “We leave you in charge for a few weeks and you shut the place down?”

Mark scrubbed his good hand over his face and shook his head, his green gaze locked on Felicity. “Explain to me again why the FBI thinks Kevin Quinn’s responsible?”

Jace exchanged a look with Felicity, then cleared his throat. “Well, it’s not exactly the FBI who’s on the case anymore.”

“What?” Mark looked completely baffled, his shaved, tanned scalp gleaming beneath the overhead lights. Several weeks on desk duty had done the guy some good, at least from what Jace could see. His best bud looked more rested these days, the dark circles under his eyes gone, and the fine lines around his mouth more relaxed. A lot of that most likely had to do with the woman at Mark’s side as well. Geneva Rios. A reporter for a San Francisco newspaper and Mark’s girlfriend. If you didn’t look two close, you’d think you were in the room with a couple of celebs—Mark being a dead-ringer for Dwayne Johnson and Geneva a twin for Eva Mendes. Still, no matter how gorgeous, Geneva didn’t hold a candle to his Felicity.

Jace frowned.

My Felicity?

Right. Time to move on. One mind-blowing fuck did not a relationship make. Jace cleared his throat and continued. “The Bureau’s made some budget cuts and have pulled the agents off the SEAL case. Felicity decided to stay behind, on her own time, to see if she can catch the killer.”

“Oh, this sounds juicy!” Geneva said, walking out of the bathroom. “Who’s the killer again?”

Felicity frowned at Jace. “From what I’ve uncovered, I think it’s Kevin Quinn. He was an ex-SEAL candidate who’s overly paranoid about the government and has a score to settle.”

“Huh.” Geneva walked over to stand beside Mark, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I met the guy a few months back at a rally for Frank Sutton. He seemed pretty normal to me, almost mousy actually. In fact, he was the only person at that whole event who was nice to me.”

“Serial killers can be nice too.” Jace said, giving Geneva a flat look. “Take Ted Bundy.”

“So now Kevin Quinn is at Ted Bundy level?” Vann said, his tone droll. “That escalated quickly.”

“Felicity’s serious about this,” Jace growled. He was usually the laid-back one, the peacemaker between brooding Mark and annoyingly practical Vann, but today the thought that these guys—his best buds—might be doubting Felicity pissed him off. “She’s done her homework on this case and I, for one, believe her.”

“Calm down.” Mark said, scowling. “No one’s doubting anyone here. This is all just coming out of left field for us, okay? You’ve had a couple of days to get used to the idea and get to know Agent Belasko here, Jace.”

At the mention of getting to know Felicity, Jace glanced at her beside him and found her cheeks flushed. They were both still wearing their workout clothes and all he could picture now was that sexy as hell lingerie hidden by her T-shirt and shorts. About how she’d tasted and the sweet scent of her perfume, and those amazing little sounds she’d made as he’d made love to her with his mouth and hands and….

“Aw shit.” Vann’s disgruntled tone sizzled through the phone line. “You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you Heinz?”

“What?!” Jace shook his head. “No. How the hell would you even know that, dude? You’re not here. Shit. You’re not even in the same state.”

“Heinz?” Felicity whispered, leaning in closer to Jace.

“It’s an old nickname,” he said. One he hated. Back on their SEAL team, the guys had nicknamed him Heinz 57 because of his varied ethnic heritage. “One, Tonto there knows better than to call me.”

“You’re lucky I’m not there, Heinz.” Vann’s edged tone cut like a knife. “Or I’d be kicking your ass right now for that comment.”

Jace hid his wince behind his clenched jaw. Yeah, he knew he’d crossed a line with that zinger. Vann was half Cherokee and rightly proud of his culture. But that didn’t mean Jace didn’t take equal pride in his diverse background.

“Can we stay on track here, please?” Mark said, exhaling as he read through the code violation paperwork from the sheriff’s office. “According to these documents, we have thirty days to fix all these things. Luckily, we just finished a class today.” He took a deep breath and went into manager mode, his focused expression all too familiar to Jace. It was the same one Mark used to get right before they went on a dangerous mission back in Afghanistan—laser-focused, sharp, ready to kick some serious ass. He looked up, his green gaze locking on Jace. “First, you need to make sure you contact all the students enrolled in next week’s program and get them rescheduled, if possible. We don’t want to have to issue refunds if we don’t have to. We’ll need to conserve cash to cover our bills until the income starts rolling in again.”

“What about the Quinn investigation?” Geneva asked.

“There hasn’t been a body in a while. Maybe he’s done,” Mark said.

“No,” Jace said, then nodded to Felicity. “Tell them what you’ve discovered. The pattern.”

“There’s a pattern?” Vann said.

“Aw, don’t tell me you missed it, Vann? What’s the matter, dude? Tracker skills on the fritz?” Jace smiled, knowing he’d scored a direct hit with that one. Vann was the best tracker he’d ever met. Nothing escaped the guy’s eagle eye. Usually. But since he’d met Mercy, his fiancée, Vann had been a bit…distracted. “Don’t worry. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Vann’s curses rang loud through the room. Portuguese, if Jace wasn’t mistaken. The guy must be learning it from Mercy. Her family owned a global restaurant empire and she spoke at least three languages fluently. Seems Vann had chosen well for himself in the mate department.

Jace looked over at Felicity again and saw her watching the erupting chaos with an amused expression. Given what she probably dealt with on a daily basis at the Bureau, she was likely used to alpha males behaving badly.

Finally, Felicity raised her hand to her mouth and gave a loud wolf whistle, instantly silencing the room. “Look, I’m sorry about what’s going on with your business, but I’m on a tight schedule here. I’ve got enough vacation to last me until the end of this month and I intend to use as much of it as I can to nail Kevin Quinn’s ass to the wall. Jace mentioned the pattern I’ve detected in the murders. From my calculations, a new victim appears every four weeks, like clockwork. Using this time table, there should be a new body in—”

“Two weeks.” Vann mumbled another curse under his breath. “Why didn’t I see this?”

“You’ve been a little busy.” Mercy’s soft voice echoed from behind him through the phone line. “Hello everyone, by the way. I’m Mercy Conde, Vann’s fiancée.”

“Nice to meet you,” Felicity said, before focusing on Mark again. “I’m going after Quinn, whether you guys help me or not.”

“No.” Jace met her gaze and held. “We’re going after Quinn. Teamwork, remember?”

“This is your team, not mine.”

Mark sighed. “Most of these code violations listed are bogus, meaning there isn’t much to fix around here. Which would give us all time to help you, Agent Belasko, if you want.”

She looked between Jace, Mark, and Geneva. “I don’t know. All of this has to be done legally for it to be admissible in court. With your reputation lately….”

“Shit.” Jace frowned. “Seriously? You’re going back to that again? Look, I told you someone is setting us up. Maybe Quinn, maybe someone else. But I thought bringing you here today and showing you our facilities would let you see that we’re legit. No terrorist training happening at Brothers In Arms.”

“Terrorist training?” Mark said.

Geneva snickered. “She obviously hasn’t seen the civilian classes.”

“Yeah, I did.” Felicity gave a half-grin. “Water rescue.”

“Pathetic, right?” Geneva raised a brow. “No way those people could hurt a fly.”

“Hey, now.” Mark grabbed Geneva’s hand and tugged, causing her to fall into his lap. Not that she was trying too hard to get away. “We achieve the goals we set out to with each student. Remember, sometimes the fight is the one that never takes place at all.”

Rolling her eyes, Geneva shook her head before kissing Mark quickly then focusing on Felicity again. “Not sure if Jace told you, but I’m a reporter. If you want my help with research or investigation, I’m you’re gal.”

“Me too,” Mercy piped in over the speakerphone.

“Sunyeta, perhaps that’s—” Vann started.

“No.” Mercy cut him off, her tone brooking no argument. Jace smiled. Yep. Vann had found himself a good match there. The guy needed a woman who wouldn’t put up with his moody, mystical crap. “I’m not some hot-shot reporter like Geneva, or even much good at the physical stuff, as Vann can attest. But I am super-organized and can run a project like nobody’s business. And because of my position with Queen Antoinette’s restaurants, I’ve got contacts all over the world. You need strategies or access to locations I’ve got your back.”

Much as he hated to halt this help-Felicity bandwagon, Jace needed to share what was weighing heavy on his mind. “There might be a problem.”

“Just one?” Vann said.

Jace flipped the guy off even though Vann couldn’t see him.

“What?” Mark asked, his tone and expression flat.

“I’m pretty sure that if Kevin Quinn’s behind these killings, then he’s not working alone.” He paced the small office, needing to burn off some excess energy. “Take that paperwork from the sheriff’s office. As far as I know, Quinn’s never set foot on this compound and to get all those details, whoever made that bogus report had to have been here on-site.”

“Tim Rigsdale was here,” Vann said. “During the last open house.”

“But he’s dead,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair, Geneva still on his lap.

“His wife’s not.” Jace stopped and crossed his arms. “In fact, she about ran Felicity and her partner off the road earlier.”

“I thought she was in rehab,” Vann said.

“She got out a few weeks ago,” Felicity said, then relayed what she’d seen when her and Ted had gone to the mansion. “From what Jace has told me, it’s possible she’s the informant on the code violation report.” She met Jace’s gaze. “And much as I hate to admit it, I think Jace is right. Given the scope and intricacies of the murders, it would be hard for one person to pull all of that off, no matter how skilled.”

“So we need to find out who Kevin Quinn’s been hanging out with over the past couple months,” Geneva said, standing once more. “I’m on it.”

“Wait a minute,” Mark said, pushing to his feet as well. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to catch this asshole and make him pay for what he’s done but this could get really dangerous, even deadly. If Quinn is our killer, then he’s already racked up an impressive body count. Before anyone commits to this, they should know what they’re signing up for.”

“I’m in too,” Mercy called out.

Vann rattled off a string of harsh words that Jace could only imagine were Native American curses, before exhaling loud over the phone line. “If my woman is involved, then there’s no way in hell she’s doing any of this without my protection.”

Jace grinned. The guy took his job as Mercy’s bodyguard literally.

Felicity’s arm brushed his and sent zings of awareness through Jace’s body. Then again, guarding her body wouldn’t be a burden at all. He cleared his throat and moved closer, linking his fingers through hers despite the fact she tried to pull away. What the hell right? Everyone already guessed they were sleeping together. Plus, the other guys didn’t hide the fact they were involved. Why should he? “I’ve already stated my involvement. Whatever Felicity wants or needs, I’m there.”

Mark rolled his neck and shoulders, then slammed his hand down on the desk, sending the bogus sheriff’s report fluttering to the floor. “All right then, team. Let’s go catch ourselves a killer.”