Instead of relief, Dante felt disappointment. He had hoped for another hour or two alone with Laurie before his reinforcements showed up. That wasn’t going to happen. With resignation, he opened the front door.
“Dante,” greeted the tall, thin man on his right. The two men entered and shut the door. “Boss told us you needed some extra hands.”
“Dean, John.” Dante nodded to each in turn. “I think that’s a bit of an understatement.”
Dean, the shorter of the two men, sat down on the arm of the couch. He stretched his legs out in front of him as he balanced there. He was a bit stocky. He had a round, youthful face set with brilliant green eyes. Dante had last seen Dean with a military crew cut, but now he wore it a few inches longer, and gelled to a spiked point near his forehead. Dean leaned toward Dante, crossing his arms.
“David was killed last night? Is it true?” His usual lazy grin was gone, a look of grave concern in its place.
“Yes,” Dante winced.
“Jesus Christ. How many assailants?” John sat down next to Dean on the couch.
John was taller than Dean. In fact, he was Dean’s opposite in many ways. John was lanky, with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes. When Dean would laugh, John would glare. When John wanted pizza, Dean wanted to order sandwiches. They couldn’t be more different from one another. Yet, right now, John wore the same concerned expression Dean wore.
“Four. All dead.” Dante crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels.
There was stunned silence, as both men shook their heads.
“Well, at least you got ’em. That part of the night went right.” Dean leaned back.
Dante cracked a wan smile, while John glowered at Dean. Then Dante heard a noise behind him, soft footsteps approaching from the hallway. He turned to see Laurie enter the room. He scowled at her.
“I told you not to move until I came and got you.” He turned to her, hands on his hips.
“I could hear you all talking. They’re obviously other Marshals.” Laurie gestured to the new arrivals.
“I told you not to move until I came and got you,” Dante repeated.
Laurie rolled her eyes, sighing.
“Dante, is this your wife or your witness?” John smirked at him.
“Yeah, man. Why weren’t we invited to the wedding? I thought we were friends.” Dean raised his eyebrows at him.
They were both grinning from ear to ear. Dante fought the smile and shot them what he hoped was a warning look.
Laurie laughed nervously.
“I’m Laurie.” She extended a hand to John.
“I’m John.” John shook her hand. He had an easy, broad grin as he looked Laurie over.
“Dean.” Dean grasped her hand after John.
“Now tell us honestly, do you need protection from Kaimi or from this one?” John gestured to Dante.
Laurie blushed, flicking her eyes at Dante in mild alarm.
Dante watched Dean appraise Laurie from head to toe while she looked at John. Perfect. Just perfect. The one thing these two could agree on had to be that Laurie was worth drooling over.
“All right, you two.” Dante fought the urge to drag Laurie back to her room and lock the door. “We had a rough night last night. Stop giving us a hard time.”
He caught Laurie by the elbow and led her to the couch.
“Put your stuff in the rooms on the right down the hall and come back so I can brief you.” Dante nodded to the hallway. Dean and John both picked up their bags.
Dante sat down with Laurie in front of the TV. She stared up at him, smiling. Dante held her hand for the few minutes he knew he had, silently mourning the hour or two alone with her. He ran his thumb over her palm a few times, then gave her hand a squeeze. He let go of it when he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“All right, boss. We’re ready for the download.” Dean bounded into the living room.
“Kitchen.” Dante jerked his head in that direction. He looked at Laurie. “Please stay here until we’re finished.”
“Okay, okay. I will.” Laurie shot daggers at him with her eyes.
Dante smiled in spite of himself as he headed into the kitchen. Dean and John were sitting at the kitchen table waiting on him. He briefed them on Kaimi’s kidnapping job, Laurie’s encounter with him, and everything that had happened with Laurie since he took her into protective custody. Well, almost everything.
“Damn, she’s been attacked twice already? God, he really wants her dead.” John shook his head.
“He should. No one’s ever been able to place him in direct connection to a crime. Once we find him, Laurie’s testimony will put him out of work for a long, long time.” Dante ran his hand over Laurie’s file folder. “Now—some ground rules. Given the severity of the situation, Laurie goes nowhere without us. Rick gave us permission to take her out hiking while we were at Hilo, but after last night, that’s no longer an option I’m willing to take. Laurie knows this. She knows she can’t have contact with any family members or friends unless it’s through me.”
“Mob wives have had more freedom than that. No wonder she doesn’t want to listen to you.” Dean took a sip of his soda, grinning at Dante over the rim.
“She’s doing just fine with it.” Dante glared. “I will want you two to get some sleep. I’m putting you both on night shift, since I won’t know this Marshal from California, or how much experience he’ll have. I want perimeter sweeps every half-hour, equipment checks every day. I want you both to keep your bags packed at all times, so we can move at a moment’s notice. If anything happens—anything—the first priority is to get Laurie somewhere safe. Is that clear?”
They nodded.
“Good. One more thing.” Dante took a breath and lowered his voice. “Laurie has a problem with nightmares. She might seem steady, even content, during the day, but by night, it’s a different story. You might hear her call out for help or to me directly. I’m in the room next to her. I’ll deal with it. She’s used to me waking her up from the nightmare. I don’t want anyone she’s not familiar with doing it. Understood?”
They nodded, the two men exchanging solemn glances.
“Good. Get some rest. You take over for me at 10:00 p.m.”
“What about dinner?” John looked alarmed. “We haven’t eaten yet.”
“Right. Yeah, Laurie and I got groceries earlier. Fix whatever you want and we’ll eat later.” Dante got up from the table.
Dean grinned, opening his mouth to say something, but Dante folded his arms. Dean kept ginning but thought better of his comment.
Satisfied, Dante turned and went into the living room.
“See, I do follow directions.” Laurie gave him a look of feigned innocence as he sat down beside her.
“Picking and choosing which directions to follow doesn’t count as following directions.” He turned on his laptop.
“Have you worked with these men before?” Laurie lowered her voice.
“Yeah, I have. John and I entered the Marshals Service together. Dean has been in for about two years. They’re good men.” He watched her fidget with the remote and waited.
“Are they married? Do they have kids?” She studied the remote.
Dante leaned back into the sofa, looking at her. He wished he could hold her hand, but he knew he couldn’t.
“They’re not David, Laurie.”
She looked up at him, sadness sweeping her expression.
“All of these men have families of some kind. They’re all highly trained. They know the risks.”
Laurie nodded. She looked away and went back to fidgeting with the remote.
Dante studied her for a few minutes. Then he turned back to his computer.
“Dante?”
“Yeah?” He looked back to her.
“Have you talked to Cheyn yet? Or Max?”
“No, I haven’t. Why don’t we call them and see how they’re doing?”
“Yes, I’d like to do that.”
“Okay.” He gave her leg a squeeze right above the knee.