Slowly, slowly she neared him, eventually resting half on his legs, her cheek pressed just above his knee. In a broken whisper, she sang along, using the Portuguese lyrics he’d taught her. “Tres ratos cegos, ver como eles correm.”
He slipped a hand underneath the basket and rested it on her head, fingers stroking across the silken strands of her hair. Everything about her was a far cry from how he’d found her only a few weeks ago. Everything except her fear. “Sweetheart, it’s time to go on our trip.” Her head rocked against his leg, but uncertain if it was a nod or a shake, he pressed, “We’re all packed up except for our Shiloh. Have you seen her?”
Her singing had fallen away, sticking on a soft hum as she kept the music going. Her giggles finally interrupted it entirely, and he smiled at the sound.
“Was that my Shiloh I heard? Is it you under there?” She shifted, and he moved his hand, giving her the freedom to spring to her knees, basket going flying as she held her arms out in a silent “ta-da” of surprise. “It is my Shiloh! I’m so happy to see you. Are you ready to go?”
She sank down, hunching into herself, arms turned from excited streamers into bands of confinement as they wrapped around her body. “Mm’hm.” All the enthusiasm had fled her face, leaving only fear and anxiety behind.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She angled her head to look into his face, her lips pressed in a bloodless line. “I promise you, Shiloh.”
They remained in those positions for a breath. Then she gave a deep sigh, releasing a great breath of air, and crawled into his lap. “Mm’kay.” She hummed and he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Tres ratos cegos, tres ratos cegos, ver como eles correm.” She broke off and twisted to look up at him. “Sing wit me.” Her demand was quiet but firm, and he gritted his teeth to keep from grinning. My girl’s got an attitude on her. He loved every sign of strength and courage she showed.
Doc and Kelly looked up as Owen walked into the garage carrying Shiloh, still singing that damn song.
Six hours later, both kids were asleep in the back seat, and Owen glanced over at Doc, taking in the man’s loosely confident movements as he steered the car. They’d been through all the surface small talk, asking about final details, dropping off keys, running through a drive-thru to pick up a hot snack for the kids versus stopping for a meal—but had carefully edged around the more critical topics so far.
Another quick look over his shoulder reassured Owen the kids were asleep. Shiloh slumped far over in her booster seat while Kelly leaned on the door, forehead pressed against the glass, his mouth dropped open and emitting infrequent snores.
“We’ll get there tomorrow, even if we decide to stop for the night.” He began by stating something they both knew. It was approximately twenty-six driving hours, barring any traffic delays from construction or accidents. They’d probably drive straight through, but had ample time if they didn’t. “There’s no strict timeline, though. My partner knows we’ll be there this week, but I didn’t detail our plans.” The “partner” bit was Alace’s decision; she hadn’t wanted the doctor to know her name until she’d had a chance to meet him. Owen understood and thought Doc probably did, too. Follow her gut has always been Alace’s go-to process.
“I know.” Marchant’s nonchalant tone was maddening for reasons Owen couldn’t articulate.
“I know you know, I’m just…” His ribs expanded with a deep breath. “They matter to me. My partner does. They’re married. Happily. To a highly intelligent Neanderthal I happen to like, too. So I want you to like them. I want to work with you like we’ve talked about. If we were still in Jersey, we could do what we want. But in their backyard, they’ve gotta like you, too.” The seat belt rubbed his neck as he shook his head. “I’m rambling.”
Looking at his lap, Owen stared at his phone, perplexed. The light next to the camera was blinking. In sequence.
Blink. Blink. Blink. Pause. Four blinks and a pause. Two blinks and a long flash and a pause. A long flash and a pause. A repeat of the two blinks and a long flash, then a pause, and a blink, flash flash, blink.
S H U T U P
In Morse code.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?”
Flash, blink pause, flash flash flash.
N O
Again, in Morse code.
“What?” Marchant’s question rode over the information in Owen’s brain, but he ignored the man.
“You want me to stop talking. About what? You? Want me to stop talking about you?”
Flash, blink, flash flash. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.
Y E S
“Oh my fucking God.”
“What’s going on?” The tone of the question caught his attention, and Owen glared at Marchant, who was staring at him as if he’d grown a third head. Which he might as well have done, since there were apparently three adults in the vehicle, albeit one only electronically.
“Nothing.” Staring down at the phone, Owen tried to figure out how to tell Alace to stop eavesdropping on the conversation. Squeezing his eyes closed, he wished for the subvocal microphone setup. With the earwig in place, he could have had an entire conversation with Alace without Marchant being any wiser. The phone vibrated, and he looked down to see the light blinking again. She spelled out, “Talk. Just not about me.”
Owen lifted his chin and glared at the trees flashing by on the nearby hillside. The phone vibrated again, and he shook his head, denying her request. Another, longer vibration had his chin jerking around and down, turning his irritated glare back on the phone. Blinking, he spelled out his response to her, knowing she’d be able to decipher his intent.
Blink blink close blink. Blink blink close. Close blink close blink. Close, blink, close. Close, blink, close close. Close close close. Blink blink close.
F U C K Y O U
He turned the phone over and removed the back, unseating the battery and putting it into one pocket. A quick nudge with the tool that came with the device slipped the SIM card from its slot, and he lay it loose in the battery compartment, closing the back of the phone. He watched the screen for a few breaths and then looked out the window again.
Why the hell did this whole thing make me so angry? He’d known she had his phones bugged. She’d been upfront with him about it since the beginning of their relationship, and things had gotten even more real after they’d worked on the mission to save her man’s best friend. Something buzzed in the back seat, and Owen twisted around to dig through Kelly’s bag, honestly not surprised to find the culprit was the boy’s tablet.
A video call from Unknown was waiting to be accepted.
“My partner is resourceful.” He flashed the screen at Marchant and caught the man’s smirk in response. “Why are you grinning?”
“They didn’t like it when you killed the phone, huh?” Thumping the back of the tablet with a heavy finger, Marchant laughed quietly. “Better answer the boss.”
Pushing out as much irritation as he could alongside a big huff of air, Owen tapped the tablet’s screen. It took a moment to connect, and Owen had a second to wonder how it even had a connection, because neither of the tablets had data plans attached to them, dependent on Wi-Fi for access to the Internet. Alace. It always comes back to Alace. As the video resolved, he thumbed the volume down a notch, hoping to allow the kids to stay asleep as long as possible.