“It’s for football.”
“I don’t care. This is my niece we’re talking about.” He came down the two steps and whispered loudly through clenched teeth, “I won’t let her hurt Dani.”
“Let me handle this.”
“But you handle it poorly.”
Unwilling to have this discussion with his brother, Shay walked back into the house after pushing Keane out of his way with his shoulder.
“That was weak!” Keane yelled after him. “I expect better hits at practice tomorrow!”
*
“How are we doing on the Malone case?”
The teammates traded glances; it was Nelle who spoke up first. “We didn’t know it was one of our cases.”
“I put it in the system,” Charlie said.
Max leaned forward. “We have a ‘system’？” she asked with air quotes.
“We have a system. They keep giving me stuff, like the office, the computer stuff, the weaponry, the system, and I just take it. Looking at the equipment and guesstimating prices . . . we’re better equipped than most SEAL teams.”
“That’s awesome.” Max let out a happy sigh before she abruptly stood. “Come on! Let’s go kill somethin’！”
“Down, Max,” Charlie ordered. “You can’t use this stuff unless you’re on one of our cases.”
“You think they’ll check?” Tock asked.
“They do the cleanup . . . they’ll check.”
Tock had toyed with the idea of maybe using the new equipment to build the devices she used to get in and out of anything—especially safes—but now she wouldn’t. Although it would save her money and effort, she didn’t like the idea of these people being in her business.
“All we’ve found out so far,” Mads admitted, “is that the Malones’ father was CIA, and he was investigating something on his own when he was killed.”
“CIA? He was a spy?”
“Human division.”
“Did the brothers know?”
“No. Not at all.”
Charlie leaned back in her chair and the coyote licked the side of her face before nuzzling her neck.
“I don’t know anything about the CIA,” she admitted. “The shifter division did try to recruit Max, but I put a stop to that.”
“I could have had a fabulous career,” Max said.
“Or started World War Three,” Tock muttered.
“What’s going on with them now?” Charlie asked about the brothers.
“Finn convinced them to take a break from trying to find out what happened,” Mads explained. “But that won’t last long. Not with the Malones.”
Charlie focused on Tock. “Can your grandmother help?”
Tock’s entire body tightened, and she grew hot, then cold. “What? Why . . . why would you even ask me that?”
“If anyone has CIA contacts, it’s got to be your grandmother.”
“No.”
“No . . . she doesn’t have CIA contacts? Or no—”
“No. As in no, you’re not involving my grandmother. That is not a good idea.”
“Why not? She could get the information quicker than we ever could. And she kind of owes Keane and Finn.”
“Owes them?” Mads asked. “For what?”
“They stopped me from killing her when Tock was in the hospital. Because I was about to. But they stopped me, so she owes them.”
“And why were you trying to kill her?” Nelle asked.
“Because we had talked about her staying away from Stevie and, apparently, she didn’t believe how serious I was about that.”
“Wait.” Tock sat up straight, shocked by this new information. “When did you talk to my grandmother?”
Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. And she showed up at the Pack house wanting to talk about taking Stevie to Israel. It was a very nice conversation. We had tea and cookies. But I thought I made myself clear.”
“Didn’t Stevie say she just started working with her?” Max asked.
“I didn’t put an age limit on it. I didn’t say, ‘My baby sister is untouchable until she turns twenty-one.’ I was extremely clear. Stay away from Stevie.” She thought a moment before adding, “And Max.”
Charlie wasn’t the only one who’d made things clear. So had Tock. She’d sat down with her grandmother and told her to stay away from her teammates and their families. All of them. She’d gone out of her way to ensure they’d never directly meet. To find out her grandmother had gone behind her back . . .
“I cannot have you guys involving my grandmother,” Tock said.
“But she’s already involved.”
“Not with us. With the ones using that toxin against us. Let her focus on that.” When everyone simply stared at her, Tock said, “Look, my grandmother can be very . . . manipulative. She’s basically Rasputin in a designer suit with a Glock tucked into the back of her skirt. And what starts off with, ‘Can you do this one thing for me, metuka?’ turns into, ‘You did so great with that, can you also help me with this?’ Until you wake up one day and you’re living in an Israeli kibbutz, waiting for her next command.”
“Us?” Charlie asked, incredulous. “You think she can do that to us?”
Tock shrugged. “She did it to Margaret Thatcher. Gerald Ford. Leonid Brezhnev.” She winced a little. “The family rabbi.”
Charlie shrugged. “So?”
“Well, if she can do that to a man of God, what will she do to you idiots?”
*
Shay forced himself into a very uncomfortable position on the floor beside his daughter, pulling his long legs in and crossing them so that he didn’t kick Princess in the face. Dani had seated herself on the floor, right by the puppies and their mother.
His daughter had taken a big wooden box from the backyard and filled it with thick, warm blankets. She sat outside the box but stretched her arm in to gently pet one of the sleeping pups while some of the others nursed from their mother. It was a serene moment, but he didn’t like the look of sadness on his daughter’s face. He never wanted her to be sad, but he knew from his own experience that parents could only do so much. Being sad was just part of life. What he didn’t want—and what always worried him deep inside—was for her to wallow. Keane wallowed. Shay didn’t want his daughter to become like Keane.
“You’re not staying up all night watching them,” he told her.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good. Their mother knows how to take care of them.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her. These little guys have needs, and we should help as much as we can.”
That was the moment when Shay noticed that she’d adjusted the AC so that it felt as if the house was being heated rather than cooled. In the summer.
“What’s going on with the temperature?”
“According to the book, puppies need to be kept warm.”
“Your uncles aren’t going to like that.”
“My uncles are not defenseless, innocent pups. They can grab a fan.”