Operation Alpha. Justine Davis

looking concerned. “Do you not remember that discussion?”

      He flushed because the only answer was no. He didn’t remember much after Quinn had said he was going to school. Ria Connelly’s school.

      He snapped his gaze back to his laptop before she could read anything in his expression. “Must have zoned out. Sorry.”

      “Hmm.” Hayley didn’t say anything more, but then she wouldn’t. She explained patiently, “You’re taking him because Emily said Dylan really likes dogs, but his dad would never let him have one.”

      He seized on the mention of Dylan’s father to get past the awkward moment.

      “Haven’t found much on Dad in the public record. A couple of traffic tickets and one road rage incident that was mentioned in a police activity blog, but I don’t know yet if he was the aggressor.”

      “Brett will find that out for us,” Hayley said. “When?”

      “Since his wife’s death,” Liam said, confirming what he knew she suspected. “Before that, he seems squeaky clean.”

      “So those incidents could be grief messing with his judgment.”

      “Could be,” he agreed and went on. “He has no social accounts. In fact, he doesn’t have an online presence at all that I can find.”

      “Emily did say that Dylan says his father’s a bit of a technophobe. Doesn’t even have a smartphone.”

      “You still usually end up somewhere, via somebody else, friend or job, something. But I haven’t dug deep yet. Professional sites, checking for fake names or profiles with the same IP, all that.”

      “If he’s a credit counselor, that’s someplace to start.”

      “He is?”

      Hayley’s mouth quirked. “Missed that, too?”

      “I guess I was already thinking about this,” he muttered, gesturing at the laptop. It wasn’t really true, but since he wasn’t even sure himself what had him so rattled he couldn’t explain. It would be fine, he’d get in in some capacity, try to get Dylan to open up to him, they’d put Emily’s mind at ease and he’d be done.

      “We’ve been brainstorming how to get you and Dylan together,” she said.

      He gave her a sideways look. “Just don’t say I look young enough to go in as a student.”

      Hayley laughed. “While you could probably do it, we decided it would take too long and stand out too much if you came in as the new kid and zeroed in on him. We need a way to get Dylan to be interested right off.”

      “Cutter?” he asked. “Isn’t that what that’s about?”

      “Yes, but even clever as you both are that could take a while.”

      Liam’s mouth twisted up at one corner. “Him, yes. Me, not so sure.”

      “That’s okay,” Hayley said breezily. “We’re sure.”

      He smiled at her easy, sincere compliment. But before he could respond there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Quinn, Emily and her teacher—somehow thinking of her that way wasn’t helping as much as he thought it would—came into the big meeting room. Quinn and Emily immediately gravitated to the big wall of windows that looked out on the clearing. Quinn must have told her about the eagles because she was scanning the tree line intently.

      “Dylan said his mom loved eagles,” Emily said sadly. “That’s why she loved hiking so much. She loved seeing them out in the wild.”

      Quinn gave the girl a one-armed hug. He left her to watch for the eagles as he turned to head toward Hayley and Liam.

      “I think we’ve got it,” he told them as he joined them on the other side of the room, where their tech equipment was set up.

      Liam had the feeling he should have stuck around for that discussion downstairs, instead of bolting to another room. Then again, he’d clearly been so distracted he wouldn’t have been much use anyway. He glanced at Emily’s teacher—no, still not working—wondering how such a petite woman could take up so much space in a room this big.

      She smiled at him. And suddenly Liam felt like he had the time he’d gone to the mountains above Denver, simply because he’d never seen mountains so high in person. He had found himself out of breath merely going up a flight of stairs, but was never sure if it was the exertion or the view.

      “Liam never quits once he’s on the scent,” Quinn was saying, in the tone of a promise.

      He yanked his gaze back to his boss. “What do I have to do?” he asked warily.

      “Brush up on your judo and Muay Thai. Ria’s going to get you in as an after-school coach.”

      He blinked. “But I don’t know anything about teaching it.”

      “Ria will help with that.”

      Oh, great.

      “You’ll manage,” Quinn said at his expression. Then he added with a grin, “After all, you were taught by one of the best.”

      The old joke—he’d been taught mostly by Quinn himself—helped him get a grip. “And put him on the ground more than once,” he pointed out, his customary response.

      “That’s when I knew you were ready,” Quinn said. “And you’ve got that sudden-strike thing going for you.”

      “Sudden strike?” Ria asked.

      Quinn’s grin widened. Emily had just rejoined them, and he gave her a wink as he answered. “He strolls in all relaxed and leisurely, lolls around like he couldn’t move fast even if he wanted to. Just when you start thinking he’s half-asleep he explodes and takes you out before you can blink.”

      Ria laughed. It was a light, lilting sound that gave him that high-altitude feeling again, even more than Quinn’s warming words.

      “I’ll remember that,” she said.

      “Dylan will like that,” Emily said. “He really did want to learn. It’s the only thing he still mentions now and then.”

      “And teaching something concrete, physical-like—that is different than having to teach English or math or history,” Ria said in a reassuring tone. “You can actually show what needs to be done.”

      Liam just looked at her for a moment. Made himself do it. Made himself ignore that odd feeling. No one spoke. If he was going to do this job—and it looked like he had no choice—it might be best to draw a line right here and now. He couldn’t get it done if he let her keep him off balance. He didn’t like admitting that this woman he hadn’t even known existed two hours ago could do that, but there it was. So he needed some space. He’d figure out why later.

      “Martial arts,” he said formally, “are as much mental as physical. If you don’t understand the concept behind them—and each one is different—you won’t be able to utilize them to their full potential. You can go through the moves and even be effective, but unless you understand the mind-set you’ll only be mimicking. It won’t be instinctive, and it may let you down when you need it most.”

      She was staring at him. He supposed it was because he’d given what was, for him, practically a speech. And then she surprised him.

      “Your drawl was gone.”

      His mouth twisted. Figures a teacher—an English teacher—wouldn’t like his drawl. So he exaggerated it when he said, “I c’n actually talk like a guy who done went to school, iffen I need to.”

      She drew back slightly. When she spoke, it was in the same kind of tone and cadence he had used in his little speech on the martial arts. “And I put on glasses when I feel I need to be taken more seriously by people who tend to judge on appearance alone. That was not a criticism. Nor