Mitch hung up, then stared down at the phone in his hand. There was a chance this could backfire on him. That Murdoch could have traced the call, that someone could be coming for them right now. But his gut said that wouldn’t happen. If the organization had gone to all that trouble to flush Simone out and scare her, it meant whatever she had was important. And it meant they wouldn’t jeopardize her safety just to get it, not when he was all but handing it to them.

His hand closed around the phone as he headed back toward Tate’s house. Take the deal. Take the deal. Take the damn deal.

The grounds were silent when he stepped from beach rocks to grass, the lights in the house still dark, save the one small lamp in the kitchen someone had left on before going to bed last night. He went back around the house toward the front door, quietly eased it open, then typed in—hopefully—the right alarm code. Warmth immediately surrounded him, and a shiver raced down his back, making him realize how cold it had been outside. Adrenaline had kept him from feeling it, but now that he was back in the house, he needed something to warm him up while he waited for Murdoch’s call.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen, then drew up short when his sister turned from the counter, coffee cup in hand, and lifted her brows. “Someone’s up early.”

Those nerves came back full force. She didn’t know what he’d been up to. She couldn’t. He glanced around the dimly lit kitchen, but they were the only two in the room. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” Kate took her mug to the small table near the windows and slid into a chair. “Ryan was tossing and turning. I’d have kicked him to make him stop, but then he’d be awake, and I need some peace from his stressing right now.”

Mitch smirked, poured himself a cup of coffee, then joined her at the table. “Not that I know how he sleeps, but I do know how he stresses. I don’t blame you for escaping.”

“He’s worried about you.”

Mitch knew that.

“So am I, for that matter.”

He knew that too. And he hated that he was causing her heartache. Leaning his forearm on the table, he reached around his mug, squeezed her hand, and worked up the best smile he could. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Mitch.” When he let go of her hand and sat back, she eased forward, her eyes filled with the same damn persistence he remembered when they were kids, her voice with an emotion that tugged on his heart. “I love Simone. You know that. She was the first person I met when I came to San Francisco, and the first one I felt like I could truly trust. I owe her. A lot. But she’s not family. You are. And I hate to see what this relationship is doing to you. Especially now when we found out everything that she’s involved in.”

“None of it was her fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. By being with her, your life is in danger.”

“Yours is too. You’re here right now just like I am.”

“I’m not here because of her. There’s a big difference. I’m here because of you.”

They’d always been close. As kids, he’d looked out for her, and in college, when he’d realized she was dating his womanizing best friend, he’d been willing to do whatever it took to protect her. Even jeopardize his scholarship to play ball just to keep her away from the guy. Until, that was, he’d realized how head over heels Ryan was in love with her. And when they’d lost her, when they thought she’d died in that plane crash, he felt like a part of him had died too. To have her back now was more than he’d ever hoped for, even if she was telling him something he didn’t want to hear.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly. “Walk away from her? I can’t do that. None of this is her fault. Just like what happened to you wasn’t yours. If I leave her now, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Is that what you want?”

“No. But…” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Neither did he. But at this point, he was starting to think that was inevitable. He leaned forward again and clasped her hand again. Her palm was smaller than his, but her fingers were the same length, the same shape, and there was a familiarity in her grip. A bond of family that would never be broken. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know that?”

How? Because he had to believe it. Otherwise…he didn’t know what he’d do.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Drawing it out, he glanced at the screen and felt his adrenaline surge. “I have to take this.”

He pushed out of his chair and wove out of the kitchen so his sister couldn’t hear him. When he reached the den, he hit Answer.

“Mathews,” he said into the phone.

“They agreed.”

Relief was swift and overwhelming.

“They’re giving you three days,” Chris went on. “It’s a microchip containing sensitive information. All you need to know is that Graham stole it before he disappeared in witness protection, and the organization wants it back. If you can get it for them, you have your deal.”

Three days. Mitch’s chest vibrated with excitement and hope. And a sharp shot of fear. “Three days isn’t a lot of time.”

“If you can’t find it in three days, it means she got rid of it. And if that’s the case, then all bets are off, because she knows what it is.”

Mitch tried to recall what Simone had told him she’d done during those weeks after her husband had died—which, admittedly, hadn’t been much. She had to have stored his things somewhere. She was a lawyer. She’d know not to get rid of important papers, if for no other reason than to document her time through WITSEC.

The trick now would be getting her to agree to help him look for a microchip he shouldn’t know anything about.

He’d work that out later. Right now, he was just thankful he had a chance. “I’ll take it.”

Chris sighed. “I think you’re stupid. But then you already know that.” His voice sharpened. “No one from the organization will bother you for three days. I’ll be your contact. Call me when you have news. And Mitch?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fuck with me on this. I went out on a limb here for you. If you’re planning to somehow double-cross the society, it’ll backfire.”

“I understand.”

The phone went dead in his ear. He lowered it and stared at the blank screen. Three days. Three days to finish this once and for all.

Nerves humming, he tugged off the knit cap and raked a hand through his hair, already contemplating what he was going to say to Simone when she awoke. His only hope was to convince her Steve had squirreled something away as a backup plan before he’d gone into witness protection, which he obviously had. She didn’t need to know what it was or that he was involved. All he had to do was make her think looking through Steve’s things was her idea.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Kate was pouring herself more coffee. She looked up from the carafe, her green eyes clouded with confusion and even more worry. “What’s going on?”

Keep your cool. Don’t do anything to make the situation worse.

He fixed a carefree look on his face. “Nothing. That was just my boss. I had to let him know I was taking a little more time off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s all that was? You seemed…anxious when you took that call.”

He was. But she didn’t need to be worrying any more than she already was. He crossed the kitchen, slung an arm over her shoulder, and told himself he might not be able to ease his sister’s worries in the long run, but he could give her some kind of peace of mind right now. And maybe he could even get her to help him.

“Everything’s fine.” He steered her toward the refrigerator. “Though I think it might be a bit better if you made a batch of those famous pancakes of yours. Since we’re both up, I mean.”

Her eyes narrowed even more, but this time it wasn’t with concern, it was with speculation and a hint of mischief. “Something tells me you’re trying to pull a fast one on me. And that you’ve done it before.”

She might not be able to remember the years they spent growing up together, but she knew him better than she realized. “Who? Me?” He feigned shock. “I would never do something like that.”

He pulled the fridge open and handed her a carton of eggs, then smiled his most charming grin, the one he used to distract women and get them to do what he wanted. “I like blueberries in my pancakes. In case you forgot.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sunlight filtered through the windows, warming Simone’s face, rousing her from a deep sleep. Considering everything that had happened the night before, she hadn’t expected to sleep at all and was surprised when she opened her eyes to find the sun was already well above the mountains.

Reality threatened to push in, but she didn’t want it to. At least not yet. Rolling away from the light, she slid her arm across the mattress, searching for Mitch. Her hand met cold, empty sheets.

She sat up. Blinked several times. Looked around the room only to realize she was alone. “Mitch?”

Silence met her ears. She glanced toward the open bathroom door and darkness beyond. Nothing moved.

A shot of unease filtered through her, followed by the same damn insecurities she’d had last night.

Climbing off the bed, she told herself she was reading way too much into his not being here this morning. It didn’t mean he regretted anything. Maybe it just meant he hadn’t been able to sleep.

She tugged on her clothes and fluffed her hair as best she could in case she ran into anyone on the way back to her room. What she needed was a shower and a chance to get in control of her crazy emotions. But when she stepped out into the hallway and smelled fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and heard laughter coming from downstairs, her stomach rumbled, and her need to find out just where Mitch had gone pushed her feet toward the stairs instead of toward her room.