Chapter 9
NINE
Maren was in one of the bedrooms, tucked into an extremely comfortable bed. Really, more of a marshmallow than a mattress, and the perfect down comforter, and fluffy pillows. Juni was asleep in an almost identical bed in the bedroom closest to the living room.
The couch in the front room was long enough for a tall man to stretch out without scrunching up, comfortable enough to get some sleep, but not so comfortable he’d sleep deeply. That was the opposite of the beds by design.
Colin lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He should have been out by now. He’d done gate duty, a full briefing, carried bags, swept the perimeter twice, and kept his professional distance while a gorgeous woman talked to his partner and a preschooler announced she was saving him a brownie.
Colin closed his eyes.
He’s not my daddy though.
He’d heard those words in Juni’s matter-of-fact voice from the front room. Heard Maren’s quiet No, sweetie. He’s not. And the tiny pause after, like Maren was giving Juni’s thoughts a chance to land for her.
It had landed for Colin, too—dead center in a bitter memory.
She’s not yours.
He’d been a Ranger long enough to know how to lock down a reaction in real time. Identify the threat. Assess. Contain. Move on. But lying on a couch in a dark room with nothing to do but think, the lockdown wasn’t holding.
He turned on his side and in his mind saw Juni’s head tilt at the gate. Are you my daddy?
Then the way she’d waved at him across the kennel yard, then looked him up and down.
Yup. You’ll do.
Dammit. She was picking at a lock he’d welded shut.
And then there was Maren. Under any other circumstances…
Stand down, soldier.
He rolled over. The couch made a small sound under his weight.
Maren’s voice reading Cinderella had drifted down the hall while he’d been pretending not to listen. Steady and warm and a little hoarse from exhaustion, telling a story about a girl who’d lost everything and still got her happy ending.
A man could get used to that voice.
You aren’t that man. And don’t you forget it.
Colin pulled the blanket up and willed himself to sleep. It didn’t take.
Mac’s knock on the door came at oh-six-hundred. Colin was already awake and dressed. He’d done a perimeter walk an hour before in the pre-dawn quiet. Once he was with Watchdog another year and completed his training, he’d have a dog patrolling with him.
Colin let Mac in and handed him the perimeter log without a word.
“Good morning. Quiet night?” Mac asked.
“Very.”
“Sorry, but you look like hell, friend.”
“I slept fine.”
Mac raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Go get briefed. I’ll hold down the fort.”
Colin grabbed his keys. “Coffee’s fresh.”
“Noted.” Mac grinned as he sniffed the air.
“You’ll need it. I thought I heard Juni stirring a few minutes ago.”
“Good. I picked up some coloring books and crayons on the way in.” He held up a grocery bag. “We can color quietly and let Maren sleep in.”
“You’re a saint,” Colin said, trying to keep the jealousy out of his tone.
“I’m Canadian. I’ve been told it’s basically the same thing.”
Colin grinned and put his hand on the doorknob.
“Colin?” a sleepy voice asked behind him.
Mac smiled as he looked beyond Colin’s shoulder. “Oh, hey there, early bird.”
Colin turned to see Juni standing just inside the hall, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I’m not an early bird, I’m a Junebug. Right, Colin?”
Colin tried to hide his amusement. “That’s right.”
“Where ya goin’?”
“I…” How did he explain a briefing to a little girl? “I’m going to talk to all the nice people you met yesterday.”
“Aunt Arden?”
“Um, no. Probably not. More like Uncle Kyle.” Wow, that felt weird to say.
“Can I come with you?”
Both Colin and Mac straightened, surprised. “It’s going to be really boring.”
“I brought coloring books.” Mac raised the grocery bag. “And crayons. The big box, eh?”
“I want to go with Colin.” She started to pout. Mac lowered his arm.
Hoo-boy.
“Junebug, I’m not going to be gone long.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Then before he could think about it, he lifted his hand and stuck out his pinkie. “Pinkie swear.”
“No.” Juni shook her head. “I get in trouble if I cuss.”
Mac snorted.
“This isn’t cussing, Junebug. It’s like sealing the deal with a promise.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m coming back no matter what.” He bent his knees and squatted down to her height, hand out, pinkie still extended.
Juniper walked slowly across the living room and stopped right in front of him, wariness in her gaze.
“Now, you hook your pinkie around mine.” He lifted his other hand, crooked his pinkies, and linked them. “Like this.”
Juni nodded solemnly. She had to bend her fingers down with her other hand, but still managed to hook pinkies with Colin.
“And that’s a pinkie swear. Or, well, we’ll call it a pinkie promise.”
“So I don’t get in trouble for swearing?”
“So you don’t get in trouble for swearing.” This time, Colin didn’t bother hiding his smile.
Before he could stand, Juni launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around Colin. His eyes went round and he exhaled sharply in surprise. He hesitantly returned her hug while Mac stared in disbelief.
How can something simultaneously hurt so much and feel great at the same time?
Colin gingerly patted Juni’s back. “Okay, Junebug. I gotta go or I’ll be in trouble.”
“Okay.” She pulled back and turned to Mac. “We can color now,” she said, like she’d just been condemned to a life sentence.
It was Colin’s turn to snort. He stood up and roughly clapped his partner on the shoulder. “See ya, Saint.”
“Coffee to go?”
“Shi—” he glanced down at Juni “—oot. Yeah. Forgot.”
“You, forget coffee?” Mac said as he walked to the kitchen. “That’s a new one.”
While he poured coffee into a travel mug, Colin reflexively watched out the window for any movement. He thought he heard something down the hall, but Maren didn’t appear.
Mac came back with the travel mug. “Here you go.”
Colin took it with one hand and almost—almost—mussed up Juni’s hair with the other.
She’s not yours.
He reached for the doorknob instead.
The briefing was in Kyle’s office this time, since the conference room was already in use. Kyle sat behind his desk. Flint was set up with his computer at the small table off to the side. Elissa was patched in on the phone.
Lachlan was in the chair by the window with his pen casing already in his mouth while Gina stood against a wall, looking like she desperately wanted to pace in the small room. Colin was only half-surprised to see them coming out of retirement for this one.
“Morning, Colin,” Kyle said. “Coffee’s fresh.”
“Thanks, boss. Already got some.” Colin lifted his travel mug and took the chair across from Kyle.
“Let’s get into it,” Kyle said. “Elissa, you’re up.”
Elissa’s voice came through clear. “Okay. Good news first. As far as I can tell, Maren Walsh checks out clean.”
Colin was mildly shocked at his sudden relief.
Elissa went on. “Iowa childhood, family moved to San Diego when she and Mira were nine after her oldest brother enlisted. Her second-oldest brother enlisted right behind him. Marine Raiders. Reid and Beckett Walsh.”
Colin straightened slightly. “MARSOC?”
“Yep. Both on deployment right now, which means she couldn’t reach them. They’ve been dark for about three weeks. Standard comms blackout.”
“Parents?”
“Deceased—they were older when the twins were born, both gone within a year of each other about six years back. And no other close relatives, looks like.”
“So that’s also why she drove to Colorado,” Kyle said quietly.
“Exactly. She apparently had nowhere else to go.” Elissa paused.
“Employment checks out. She’s a medical coder, works from home for a hospital network in San Diego.
Been with them four years. Good employee, follows protocol.
Her supervisor already locked down her credentials after the laptop theft, no issues there. ”
“Social media?” Gina asked.
“Minimal. She’s got accounts but she doesn’t post much anymore, not since her sister died. Flowers, sunsets, the beach sometimes. No photos of Juni. No mention of her. In this day and age, I don’t blame her.”
Colin didn’t either.
“Friends?” Lachlan asked.
“A few, sure. But it doesn’t look like she goes out much.”
Kyle nodded slowly. “Boyfriend?”
Colin’s relief evaporated as sudden jealousy hit.
“No apparent boyfriend at the moment,” Elissa said.
And…his chest eased. He hated how much.
“At the moment?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah. Looks like she was with someone, but everything drops off after she became Juni’s guardian.” Elissa’s tone gentled. “She basically went full-time mom overnight and didn’t come back up for air.”
“All right,” Kyle said. “What have you got on Mira Walsh?”
“Same background obviously. Iowa, San Diego, same family deets. But here’s where it gets interesting. She worked at LRH Defense Systems for six years in contract administration. Clearance upgraded when she moved to support a higher-profile program about a year before Juni was conceived.”
“And her social media?” Gina asked.
“More active than Maren’s. Looks like she’s the outgoing twin—and man, are they twins. Hard to tell the difference between them. Flint, can you show them? Lots of photos, lots of friends.”
“Sean?” Kyle asked.
“No joy. He’s nowhere—no pictures, no mentions. Nothing. If they were together, she kept it completely off the grid.” Elissa sounded as disappointed as everyone in the room looked, especially Kyle.
“Then—” Elissa paused. “Around the time Juni would have been conceived, things change. The posts get... strained. Like she’s pretending normal but it’s not landing right. And there’s no preggo pics, no mention of any of that. Around the time Juni’s born, Mira goes totally dark.”
“New-mom cave?” Colin asked.
“Maybe,” Elissa said. “But most moms post pics of their newborns or start looking for advice from other moms online. Mira just disappears. No posts, no activity. It’s like she went underground.”