CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"I appreciate you being so agreeable and helping us out, Mal," Wyatt said, holding out his hand to shake Mal's as they stood on his front porch overlooking his long, gravel runway.

"Well, this here beer is much appreciated compensation. Been meaning to try that Witbier I hear the island talking about." Mal squinted his milky, blue eyes from the sunshine, but the intense rays just made all the silver hair sticking out of his nose, along his cheeks, and from his ears seem to glow like tinsel on a brightly-lit Christmas tree.

"It's my fave," Wyatt said with a laugh. "And, I'm sure I don't have to mention, but I will anyway, that your discretion on things is also very much appreciated. We'd rather nobody knows who is on the jet, or why."

"Oh, people know better than to ask me anything. I'm sure Jolene Dandy will have her suspicions and be passing them around the island like candy until everyone believes them to be true. But my lips are good and sealed. Tough to hide a jet flying over the island though."

"Well, luckily, we have Brooke on the island. So people can just think it's a famous friend of hers or something."

Mal snorted. "No way would I let some millionaire celebutant land on my runway. I'd be chasing them off with my ten-gauge."

Chuckling, Wyatt merely nodded. "Well, we'll let people believe it's a friend of Brooke's or something."

All Mal did was shrug. "When is your guest expected?"

"Within the hour. So if it's all right with you, I'll just hang out here until then."

Mal shrugged again. "Doesn't matter to me. I've gotta go pick my peas." How that man wasn't cooking in a long-sleeved flannel shirt and dark-blue jeans was an enigma to Wyatt, but he didn't seem to be bothered as he slowly toddled down the well-worn path through the grass toward his enormous, fenced garden near the beach.

Wyatt found a spot in the shade on the porch and took a seat. It was the first opportunity he'd had since arriving back at the pub and the chaos there, to actually take a deep breath.

Clint and Bennett agreed though, they were missing something.

And even though Wyatt didn't really know Ginny all that well, she didn't strike him as the type to be a mole. And she didn't have blonde hair like Shelley described.

Unless it was two different people? Or more than two?

Then again, wigs these days could be very convincing.

So, who was it then? Who was on Wyndham Croft's payroll?

As they interrogated each staff member, Clint took meticulous notes to see if they could catch anyone in a lie. But everyone's stories were corroborated. When Nadine told them where everyone was and what they were doing when they first found out about the bomb, she wasn't lying.

Someone there was though.

Someone leaked not only Vica's whereabouts today, but probably the fact that she and Wyatt went off to Seattle to get married. He did, after all, announce to the whole staff that they were getting married. And it was only a last-minute decision to bring the boys with them. Burke and Dom said that the staff were all chatting about the wedding the day of as well.

He thought back to the first day when Vica was nearly hit while out for a walk. It'd been earlier in the morning, around nine. Some staff came in early to help with kitchen or bar prep. Dom was training some of his front of house staff to barback for him and he had them come in at nine to receive booze shipments, clean, and get things ready for the day.

So who was on that day and that early?

He fired off a text to Dom to send him the schedule for the front and back of house for that day, as well as the wedding day, and the day Vica was shot on the property.

Who among his staff was the snitch though?

He was running through their interviews over and over in his head, trying to figure out what he was missing when a text message came through.

Five minutes out.

That was Barnes. He had Evie Sanchez with him, and they were closing in on San Camanez Island.

Mal came trudging up the path again with a big basket hooked on one arm. Zucchini, cucumbers, peas, chard, beans, and corn all teamed out of it like a cornucopia. "You need any zucchini? I'm hemorrhaging the stuff."

Wyatt shrugged. "I mean, if they're making it tough for you to sit down, sure. I can whip up some fritters. I'm sure the boys would love them."

Mal's chuckle spoke of decades of smoking cigarettes, and so did his tobacco-stained fingers. Wasn't the man a retired endodontist? Surely, he had to know that smoking was bad for the gums. He dug his weathered hands into the basket and pulled out two beautiful, yellow zucchini squash. "These things grow like damn ivy. I swear. Take over my whole garden if I let ‘em. Only thing a bigger asshole than squash are potatoes."

That made Wyatt laugh as he accepted the squash .

"Mind you, I always over-plant zucchini anyway," Mal said, more to himself. He headed into the house, only popping back out to grab all the cases of beer Wyatt brought him. Then he nodded at Wyatt and disappeared for good just as the jet came into view, cruising over the treetops.

It was as smooth a landing as Wyatt had ever seen, but it sure kicked up a lot of dust. He'd been in sandstorms in the Middle East and this rivaled some of them.

The passengers waited until most of the dust settled before the door opened and the stairs dropped down.

Wyatt jogged up to meet them.

Barnes came out first. He was what most women would probably call a "silver fox" with dark-gray eyes that, like Mal's nose hair, shimmered silver in the sunlight.

"Wyatt?" Barnes asked, reaching the ground and extending his hand.

Wyatt nodded. "Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for your help."

"Absolutely. If we can do more, just ask. If more women come forward, we're more than happy to pick them up by jet and take them wherever they need to go."

The second person down the stairs was a younger woman, probably twenty-seven, maybe thirty. She had thick, dark hair with caramel streaks and chocolate-brown eyes. And she looked absolutely terrified.

"Ms. Sanchez," Wyatt greeted her. "Thank you so much for agreeing to help Vica. I know this couldn't have been an easy choice."

She swallowed and her gaze shifted sideways before settling back on Wyatt. "You're sure he's dead?"

"Who? Track? Oh, he's definitely dead."

She exhaled. "Good. I'll do whatever I can to help the woman that finally took him down."

Well, maybe they needed to lead with that when they approached Track's other victims .

The last person off the plane had to be Barnes' wife, Brier. She was also very pretty with light-brown hair, and pale, moss-green eyes that she hid behind thick-rimmed glasses.

Wyatt extended his hand one-by-one to each one and thanked them again for coming.

"We're just heading back to Oregon. So keep us posted if you need someone else picked up. We have nowhere to be until mid-September, so we're at your disposal," Barnes said, tipping his head, though it didn't seem like it was directed at Wyatt.

Wyatt turned his whole body around—because that was how he was supposed to pivot—to see Mal pulling back the drapes and peeking out at all of them.

"I take it that is our Runway King?" Barnes said with a chuckle.

"And he guards it like a dragon guards gold. I had to pay him in beer to use it."

"My kind of currency." Barnes was all smiles.

Wyatt snapped his fingers. "That reminds me …" He left them standing there and carefully jogged over to Clint's truck where he pulled out a mixed-pack case of beer. "Your payment."

Brier snickered. "You men and your payment in booze."

"I'm happy with it if he is," Barnes said, accepting it from Wyatt.

They chatted for a few more minutes, but it felt like they were pushing their luck with Mal. So Barnes and Brier said their goodbyes and boarded the plane. Wyatt helped Evie with her suitcase, and they waited in Clint's truck until the jet had turned around and was back up in the air.

"S-so, how did it happen?" Evie asked as she and Wyatt rumbled down the gravel runway toward the main road.

"How did what—oh! Uh … a punch to the throat. She, uh … she broke his hyoid bone, and he couldn't breathe, then suffocated to death." Wyatt only side-glanced at Evie, but it was enough to see her exhale and relax .

And, was that a smile on her face?

"I, um … I heard what he did to you. What happened. And I am … words cannot express my sympathies, or how truly sorry I am for you."

She stiffened again. "Thank you. But, the man is dead—finally—so he cannot hurt anyone else. However, he also does not deserve to be remembered as a hero or a good person. He deserves for the world to know of his indiscretions. Of his entire family's indiscretions. That the Crofts are a family of monsters. Every last one of them."

Well, that was an interesting way of putting things. Did Evie have a run-in with one of Track's brothers? Or even his father?

"That's what we're aiming to do," Wyatt said. "But we need your help. Vica is in a lot of trouble. There were no witnesses to her killing Track, and Wyndham Croft is trying to not only get her arrested on fraudulent charges, in addition to murder, but deported as well. Now he's hired a hit out on her. One of the attempts nearly killed my children, and the one today nearly blew up my restaurant and killed a bunch of staff and customers."

Evie's mouth dropped open.

They reached the laneway onto the property and after they reached the gate, he hung his head out and punched in the code, waiting for the gate to swing open.

They still hadn't figured out where Evie was staying, but that wasn't a huge concern. Dom had a spare bedroom and Jagger had two spare rooms. They'd make it work.

"Vica is over here at my brother's house," he said, opening up her door for her and retrieving her suitcase from behind her seat.

"You all live here?" She climbed out and scanned the area. "This is beautiful."

"My four brothers and I run a restaurant, a brewery, and we have several cabins that we rent out. These are our five houses up here though."

"How wonderful to be so close to family."

They reached Dom's front door, and Wyatt didn't bother to knock before entering. Vica was sitting on the floor with Silas, Griffon, and Jake, and the four of them were working on a jigsaw puzzle while Dom could be heard vacuuming upstairs.

"We kind of made a Play-Doh mess upstairs," Griffon said, wincing. "Uncle Dom wasn't too happy."

"The new rule of the house is ‘Play-Doh outside only,'" Silas said, shaking his finger.

Vica stood up and approached Evie, but rather than offer her hand, she pulled the woman into her arms for a hug. " Grazie. Grazie. Grazie, " she murmured, her voice muffled against Evie's shoulder. But Wyatt could tell Vica was close to tears.

Evie hugged her back. And the two women stayed locked in an embrace for nearly a minute. They shared a common enemy that instantly bonded them for life. Even though everyone in the McEvoy family, including Brooke and Justine, welcomed Vica with open arms, they didn't understand what she was going through. Evie did.

When the two women finally parted, they both had tears in their eyes.

Vica took Evie's hands and smiled through the tears. "You are so brave. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you. You rid the world of a very dangerous, very horrible monster."

"And am paying the ultimate price for it now."

There was a knock at the front door, then it opened to reveal Burke. Another hero.

"I wanted to check on how Vica was doing," he said, scanning Evie from head to toe. He liked what he saw. The man's dark eyes instantly dilated, and a rush of color filled his tanned cheeks. "Hello."

Evie liked what she saw in Burke too. Her smile was different than how she'd greeted everyone else, and she started to bat her lashes, and preen and touch her hair. "Hello. "

"I'm okay," Vica replied to Burke. "Shaken up. But I'm okay. How are you?"

"The same," he said. "Life definitely flashed before my eyes a few times out there. Went faster than I would have liked if I'm being honest."

"What happened?" Evie asked, her gaze bouncing between everyone.

The vacuum upstairs shut off and a moment later, Dom came downstairs as Vica and Burke regaled Evie with the tale of the anonymous package, the bomb, and his valiant effort with the kayak.

Evie was, for lack of a better word, mesmerized. If the woman could purr, she would have been.

"The spare room is ready if Evie is staying here," Dom said. "But Jagger knows that he potentially needs to get his workout shit out of at least one bedroom in his house too."

"I have space at my place," Burke offered, surprising all of them, and possibly even himself.

Wyatt started to shake his head. "We couldn't ask you—"

"I'm offering," Burke said abruptly.

Vica conspicuously elbowed Wyatt and he realized that maybe this was a good thing.

Evie was already nodding. "If you don't mind. I mean, maybe it will be better if I'm not on the same property as Vica anyway. If someone finds out we're both here …"

"That's a good point," Dom chimed in.

"And you're taking a few days off work anyway," Wyatt said to his head chef.

"No I'm not," Burke argued.

"Um, yes you are. I feel fine enough to return and we need to start letting our staff have more responsibilities. They're ready."

Burke squirmed at the idea of relinquishing his kitchen to someone—even Wyatt. But Wyatt held firm with a scowl that not even Bomb Tech Burke could argue with.

"One day," Burke said .

"Four," Wyatt countered.

"Two," Burke argued.

Wyatt held out his hand. "Deal."

They shook on it.

"You'll be very safe, Ms. Sanchez. Burke is the salt of the earth and a tough SOB to boot. Former military, just like the rest of us."

"And I can cook," he said with a wink directed only to Evie.

She blushed and smiled.

"Gabrielle needs to know Evie is on the island. She'll want to talk to her to help with the case. But otherwise, we need to keep her being here under wraps. It's probably best if she even hides in the backseat with her head down," Wyatt added. "We don't know who has eyes on the property, and road, and where."

Burke nodded. "On it."

Wyatt tipped his head to the side to indicate he needed a sidebar with Burke.

Burke, being Wyatt's right-hand for years now, knew what he meant, excused himself, and followed Wyatt out to Dom's patio. "This goes without saying, but Evie Sanchez is basically Exhibit A. Track raped her and got her pregnant. She had an abortion because who the hell wants to carry their rapist's baby?"

Anger began to simmer in Burke's gaze.

"The evidence of her assault and rape kit were tampered with. But apparently, she did have them do a DNA test on the fetal tissue following the abortion. We're still waiting on those medical records."

Burke shook his head and ran his hand down his tanned face. "Jesus Christ."

"I just need you to know what the woman you're taking on to protect has been through. She is incredibly brave, coming forward to help with Vica's case. But she's also got a lot of trauma. She did accept hush money from Wyndham Croft, but it was because her rape kit evidence no longer existed, and her lawyer advised her to take the money because a conviction was basically impossible."

A muscle at the corner of Burke's jaw twitched, he was clenching his molars so hard. "You know I won't let anything bad happen to her. "

"I know that." Wyatt rested a hand on Burke's shoulder. "I trust you like I trust my brothers. You are like a brother to me. But I also don't want you going into this without some kind of an understanding about Evie and what she's been through."

"Evie will get nothing but absolute respect from me."

"I know that."

"I'll let you know when Gabrielle and Evie connect," Burke said as Wyatt held the sliding glass door open for him and they re-entered the house where Dom, Evie, and Vica sat in the living room watching the boys work on the puzzle.

"It's been a long, weird day for everyone," Burke said, offering Evie his hand to help her up from the couch. She smiled at his chivalry. Wyatt and Vica exchanged knowing looks. "I'd love to cook you a nice meal, if that's all right with you? The place I rent is a small, two-bedroom bungalow. It's nothing special, but it's got one of the best views on the island."

Evie's eyes glowed. "A homecooked meal by someone else and a great view sounds perfect."

"You drink wine?" he asked.

"Is the Pope Catholic?" Evie replied, which brought forth a booming bark of a laugh from Burke.

"All right then, I guess we're stopping off at Gabrielle's to get a few bottles."

Evie and Vica hugged again and promised to speak tomorrow. It wasn't safe for Vica to just walk outside willy-nilly, and Burke, Dom, and Wyatt were all on high alert as they escorted Evie and her suitcase to Burke's SUV.

"What's for dinner, Dad?" Griffon asked, when Wyatt rejoined them inside.

"Well, Mal Ernie gave me some beautiful yellow zucchini. So I was going to make up some fritters. What else should I make to go with the fritters?"

"Loaded twice-baked potatoes," Jake said. "Please."

Griffon's eyes went wide, and he nodded in agreement. "And sausages."

That sounded reasonable enough to Wyatt. "Okay."

"Can we stay and finish the puzzle with Silas?" Griff asked .

Wyatt looked at his watch. It was only four o'clock. "Sure thing, guys. I'll text Uncle Dom when it's time to send you hoodlums home."

"Or call us on the walkie-talkies," Griff said. "Come in Red Eagle, this is Second Sparrow. Over." He snickered and returned to his puzzle.

"Okay, I'll call you on the walkie-talkie."

"I would like to come back to the house with you," Vica said, her face a mask of worry as she stood in front of him, her tone almost pleading.

"Of course. You don't have to ask for my permission. That's where you live too."

Her breathing hitched and she frowned for half a second, but she hid it well with a subtle clear of her throat and a nod. "Okay."

"Let me just make sure the coast is clear," he said, ducking back out the front door. Even though threats could be lurking anywhere, his Spidey-Sense wasn't tingling. So it seemed safe enough to walk her next door. He went back into the house and the two of them left Griffon and Jake with Silas and Dom.

They were barely through the front door before Vica collapsed to the floor in a heap of tears at his feet. Wyatt quickly closed the door, scooped her up, and carried her upstairs.

She meekly protested about his sore back and neck, but he ignored her and set her down gently on his bed. She curled up into the fetal position, still sobbing, and all he did was curl himself around her and hold her.

At that moment, he knew there wasn't anything else he could do for her.

She was emotionally exhausted. She'd held it together all day because she had to, but now that she was where she knew she was safe to be vulnerable, to be herself, she allowed the dam to burst.

He was honored she felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him. To breakdown and give in to her emotions.

He wasn't sure how long they lay there, but eventually, her breathing evened out and when he checked, she was asleep. He gently extracted himself from around her and went to the kitchen to start on dinner. He always loved zucchini fritters, and Jake's suggestion of loaded twice-baked potatoes was genius. His brain was a million miles away and his back was turned when the front door opened.

"Dad, we're home!" Griffon announced. "We finished the puzzle. So Uncle Dom sent us home. He said we were stinking up the joint."

Wyatt chuckled. "Were you boys having a farting contest again?"

"Maybe." Griffon giggled. "Silas ate a yogurt but forgot to take his dairy pills."

"Dinner is ten minutes away. Go wash up, but be quiet. Vica is sleeping."

"No she's not. She's right there."

At the mention of her name, Vica came floating around the corner, her face flush and beautiful from sleep. Her smile to him was small, almost embarrassed.

"You like having a nap?" Griffon asked her. "I hate naps."

"Sometimes the brain cannot wait for nighttime to recharge. It needs a little battery boost mid-day."

Griffon wasn't buying it, but just shook his head, then joined his brother in the half bathroom on the main floor to wash his hands.

"I'm sorry," she said, joining him in the kitchen. "I just …" Even more pink filled her cheeks. "Today was overwhelming."

He gently gripped her chin and stepped into her space. "Never be afraid to get overwhelmed around me. It's okay. Today has been a lot. You handled it with so much grace, I would be surprised if you didn't have a little meltdown."

She huffed a humorless laugh. "Well … anyway, thank you."

"Grif- fon ! You're getting water all over the floor. Stop it!" Jake growled from the bathroom. "Dad! Griffon's making a mess!"

"Dad!" Griffon shouted, echoing his big brother. "No, I'm not. Jake shoved me."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Griff, mop up your mess or you're eating on the floor like the animal you are."

"Jake pushed me! "

"I did not. I was there first and you budged."

"Summer vacation is way too long. They need a break from each other." He gave Vica a quick peck on the lips before going to deal with his arguing offspring.

By the time dinner was over, they were all passing yawns back and forth across the table, even Vica who had napped.

"I think it's early to bed," Wyatt said to the boys. "It's been a long, busy day for everyone."

The boys pouted, but didn't argue.

"Showers, brush teeth, then I can read you a story."

His sons put their dishes in the dishwasher, then raced upstairs. Arguments ensued within thirty seconds about who got to use the shower first.

"Jake can use my shower!" he called up.

"Why not me?" Griffon hollered.

"Because you're a filthy, messy beast and will use my body wash as spray paint on the walls, then come out still covered in dirt."

His son didn't argue with him. In fact, he didn't say a word in response.

All through dinner, he could tell something was up with Vica. She was quiet and introspective, but also incredibly sad.

She felt responsible for what happened at the restaurant, but it seemed like more than that. Like she was … distancing herself from him somehow.

"I spoke with Gabrielle today," she said as she helped him with the dinner dishes. "Dom thought you got his text and relayed it to me. So when he brought up Track's friends and brothers, it was all new news to me. I informed Gabrielle of it all and she thinks we might be able to get his friends to turn. Dom is going to look through the credit cards they used to see if we can track them down."

He nodded. "That's great news."

"Gabrielle also agrees that me being here is no longer safe."

He nearly dropped a dish onto the tile floor. "Vica. We've discussed this. The safest place you could be is right here. Where I can protect you. "

"But me being here puts everyone else in danger. Those innocent people in the restaurant could have died today. And the children. We don't know how strong the bomb was. If I'm here, nobody is safe. I need to go where if I get hurt, I'm the only person that gets hurt." She grabbed the dish towel and started drying a few dishes from the drying rack.

"That's bullshit."

"No. It's the truth. It's a fact and you know it. You just don't want me to leave because we …" Her cheeks flushed. "But we need to think with our upstairs brains. We need to put the children first before our hea—before our pleasure."

She stopped herself before she said "heart."

Why?

He was shaking his head as he spoke. "So where else would you go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Gabrielle has not found a safe house yet that she deems safe enough. But she is looking. But we all know that the longer I stay here, the greater the chance that someone will get hurt, or worse—killed—increases."

Gritting his teeth, and with flared nostrils, he spun away from her to put some leftover fritters into a container then into the fridge. "And if I say no? I mean, you are my wife."

Warm, strong, but delicate arms wrapped around him from behind and she kissed the center of his back. "You're not that type of man and we both know it. You're dominating in the bedroom, which is wonderful. But outside the bedroom, we both know you view women as equals. You're just scared."

He spun around and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "Fuck. Of course, I'm scared. If you leave, then who will protect you?"

"If I stay, who will protect you? Who will protect the customers and the children? Who will protect your family? You are one man, Wyatt McEvoy. One strong, wonderful man. But you are just a man. Not a superhero. Not a god. You will bleed if cut. And I can't have you hurt again because of me."

"So, I don't get any kind of a say in this?" His jaw ached from how hard he clenched his molars.

She shook her head and gazed up into his eyes. "We haven't found me a place yet. So let's just make the most of the time I have left here." She swallowed hard.

"You make it sound so ominous."

"We knew this was temporary. That we couldn't get attached. Maybe this is for the best anyway."

"It might be temporary, but I'm fucking attached, woman. And like fuck, is it for the best." Then he gripped her by the hair, bent her back, and took her mouth with all the force, anger, sadness, passion, and every other emotion he couldn't make sense of. He poured it all out in his kiss because there was no other way he knew how. She had made up her mind, and she was right. She was his equal and as much as he tried to tell her she couldn't go, they both knew he wasn't the boss of her.

She shuddered against him and wrapped her arms tight around his neck, deepening the kiss.

He wasn't sure when she was going to leave him. But he knew she was going to.

So until then, he planned to make the most of their time together. And if that meant neither of them got any sleep that night, then so be it.

Vica Vitale had brought a piece of him back to life that he long thought had died, and for that, she deserved his eternal gratitude.