CHAPTER ONE

Billboard came to awareness slowly.

He opened his eyes.

What the …?

Blinking a few times, he gazed up into the canopy of trees above his head, noting the position of the sun, and—

He couldn’t have been out more than a few seconds. The enemy must have …

“Shit.”

He swore out loud. He wasn’t in the wretched forests of South America.

Billboard remembered where he was and his shoulders relaxed. He was in the woods, yes, but in a town south of Boston.

He recalled his foray into the suburban treed-acres with a wry twist of his lips. He’d been looking for a lost boy. Ethan Jakes.

“Lost,” Billboard snorted. “Right.”

George Seingold—or Billboard as he was called—wasn’t in the habit of talking to himself, but this situation was…interesting? Or maybe he’d simply hit his head too hard and was slightly concussed. Still, this mission was turning out to be damned amusing because it wasn’t difficult for him to put two and two together, and determine that the boy didn’t want to be found.

Mrs. Jakes, however, was clearly not on board with that.

SOS had been contracted by the boy’s distraught mother early that morning, saying her eleven-year-old son hadn’t come home the previous night. Apparently, for him to be out all day in the woods these fine, late spring weekends was not unusual, but for the boy to stay out past dusk was cause for alarm. By the time Mrs. Jakes called SOS, twenty-two hours had passed since her boy had disappeared, and she was frantic.

When asked why she hadn’t called the police, she’d disparagingly cited that she didn’t trust them, although she wouldn’t say why.

Del, Billboard’s boss and teammate, knew there had to be a lot to that story, but in light of the missing child, he’d taken the job, determined to get to the bottom of Mrs. Jake’s distrust at another, less crucial time.

Billboard’s other teammates, Perk, Sarge, Prez, Wiley, Daire, and Brent were all out on their own assignments. That had left Billboard as the designated tracker, which he was exceptionally good at. He’d learned some trailing techniques while deployed with the Marines, but since being employed by SOS, he’d taken additional, very intense lessons from Sarge. The man was a genius, and so accomplished he could track an ant through water.

Those skills had come in handy for Billboard this morning, as it had led him to determine, early on in his search, that young Ethan was playing some kind of game.

The boy’s path had been apparent from the start; his sneaker prints entering the woods in a spot that looked well-traveled, which meant it was his normal ingress. But after several hundred yards, Ethan had clearly taken great pains to cover his tracks. He’d leapt from rock to rock, he’d climbed several trees and jumped down from them as far as his small legs would allow. He’d brushed over his prints with branches, and he’d even laid down some false trails before carefully doubling back.

Billboard hadn’t been expecting the attempted subterfuge, but once he was onto the boy’s tricks, he was impressed. Thereafter, he didn’t have to look hard for the clues which soon became obvious to his honed instincts.

Another ironic laugh escaped BB.

Honed instincts.

Sarge would have his ass if he knew what Billboard had fallen into. Literally. With his eyes focused on a particularly difficult tree climb for the youngster, BB had gone ass-over-teakettle into a covered pit that the boy had very carefully dug and disguised.

Sure. Billboard hadn’t been expecting it, but that was no excuse. Sarge wouldn’t have been blindsided.

Billboard lay still, letting the beautiful day wash over him as his gaze wandered around where he continued to lay while regaining his equilibrium. He lifted his head slightly and felt for the goose-egg he knew had to be there. Yup. The cavity wasn’t that big, but that’s probably why he’d struck his head on the way down. The roughly six-by-five hole barely fit his length. BB was six-foot-two, and there was about an inch to spare on either end of him, with the edges embedded with a number of rocks.

For sure, he’d hit one of those protrusions.

There was nothing he could do about it now as he took additional stock of his resting place.

As for depth, the hollow was little more than three-feet-deep, and rough as hell, but still, Billboard was amazed. It had to have taken weeks for the boy to dig it.

Billboard eased himself into a sitting position. Rotating his head, he decided his brain wasn’t all that rattled. Flexing everything else, he also determined there was no additional damage to his body. He slowly came to his feet and looked around.

Knowing the boy was building traps and obstacles, Billboard vowed he’d be completely focused from here on out.

One easy leap had him out of the hole and examining things with a new eye. His appreciation for Ethan’s scheming brain increased. He could see where the boy had carried the dirt from the hole several yards away, then used it to form a berm, smartly covering the pile over with leaves and branches so its appearance wasn’t immediately apparent.

Sharp kid.

The tracks surrounding the hole were many, but Billboard quickly picked up the freshest trail by examining the bent flora. He went with it, following the evidence, but much more slowly this time, determined not to be blindsided again. Once was kind of funny, now that he had a chance to think about it. His misstep would have the guys poking all kinds of fun at him once he told them what had happened. But if he idiotically succumbed twice, Sarge would demand his man-card be revoked. Which…

Yeah. Billboard might agree with that. But not for his lack of awareness this morning. The hit to his masculinity was more because of his current woman situation.

As in…Peggy.

Billboard stopped his forward trajectory, sighed, and paused to examine his female troubles.

Previous to the pretty money manager taking a shine to him, he’d never dated. Never. In high school, he’d been a tall, gangly geek; a nerd who hadn’t been very social, but instead had buckled down to get stellar grades and make his Mama proud.

He’d accomplished that, only disappointing her slightly when he’d eschewed scholarships and joined the Marines; a lifelong dream of his to follow in his long-deceased, Purple Heart recipient father’s footsteps.

In the service, he’d bulked up exponentially, and the women outside of the many bases where he’d been stationed had all wanted him for one thing. His big body.

Not that he’d minded the plethora of sex-on-demand, but it kind of hurt that not one of his hook-ups had ever decided he had a brain or a personality worth sticking around for.

That had all changed when SOS had taken on a case for Jamie Devons’ girlfriend—now, wife—Daisy. Jamie was brother to Tuck, Daire, and Brent Devons; Tuck who still ran Devons Excavating, and Daire and Brent currently operatives-on-call with SOS. When Daisy got targeted by a money laundering group, SOS had helped the brothers solve the case, and Billboard, in the process, had met Daisy’s good friend, Peggy.

Billboard sighed and leaned his back against a tree, not wanting his thoughts to distract him. Better to suss things out while remaining static, than to be lured into another small-fry ambush.

Peggy had blindsided him the moment they’d met. She was pretty, bright, perky, sassy as all hell, and had let it be known that Billboard was a person of interest to her. It was almost like he couldn’t say no, with how forcefully she’d bowled him over with her attention and ultimately, her affection.

Had he been flattered? Yes. But had his feelings for her, over time, morphed into love, as all their friends had hoped? No.

Billboard was certain it was his fault.

Peggy was his exact opposite.

Where she was gregarious, he was introverted. Where she wanted to go out and squeeze all she could from Boston’s night scene, BB was at a point in his life, post-Marines, where he was just as happy staying home and watching a movie. She was an open book, and he held dark secrets, so when she wanted to talk…

Yeah. That’s where things had really fallen apart. When it came to his past, he’d remained mum. And in regards to everything else… He often didn’t know what to say; what she was looking for, and hence the bickering had begun.

It was small chastisements at first, with them—post spats—making up the uncomfortableness between the sheets where they were very compatible. But Peggy soon demanded more of him than he was able to give, which had led to her also forcing him to find a therapist so he’d “get out of his ass”.

Billboard chuckled drily. Dr. Edwina Blockenship, a recommendation from Mizzay, was the best thing that had come out of his doomed relationship, because, yup , his and Peggy’s romance had finally gone belly-up after a run of six months. But he planned to keep seeing Doctor Ed.

Billboard couldn’t say he was surprised when Peggy had finally called it quits.

Was he disappointed? Maybe. Devastated? Again, no. More like relieved, even though he liked Peggy a lot. The biggest problem was, he still hadn’t ‘fessed up to his teammates or their women that he and Peggy had split, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. There’d be a period of time where they’d try to beat a dead horse and get them back together. Then there’d be a stretch of mourning before, eventually, the ladies would give-up and start harping on him again about his single status, attempting to fix him up.

Not if he could help it .

Billboard pushed off the tree where he leaned, giving himself a much-needed kick in the butt.

Water under the bridge , he told himself, and really, it hadn’t turned out so bad. He and Peggy had parted as friends, and that’s all he could ask for. Women as buddies. Or perhaps, once he’d nursed his insecurities for a period of time, another smattering of one-and-done hookups. He knew he wasn’t material for anything more.

His gut twisted in frustrations because there was one lady…

Nope.

Best to shut that down. It would never happen.