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“Unless they get rid of the four scientists,” Orrin said, finishing his sister’s sentence. “Dang.”
“Shoot,” Drew whispered.
Ice crept up Harrison’s spine. “My God, what about Carrie?” He paced a few steps away, then back. “What if they killed her, too? What will her poor husband do? He needs her.”
“If your friend Carrie can be found, the FBI will find her,” Willow promised. “Multiple agencies are coordinating on this from Ithaca, and they’re sending a team here, to work the case from our end. My part, for right now, is to keep you alive. This just got a lot more serious, Harry. And a lot more dangerous.”
He swallowed hard.
Maria slipped up beside him, clasped his hand and said, “Nobody’s gettin’ anywhere near him on my watch.”
“We got your back, Harry,” Orrin said, stepping up to clap a hand on his shoulder.
“Pack up and let’s head back to the house,” Willow said. “I’ll ride with you to keep watch.”
And she did just that, riding alongside their ATV caravan. Harrison had never felt more exposed. His nape and the small of his back, tingled as if they could feel crosshairs trained on them. He wished Maria would cut loose and go faster but yelling that at her would make him look cowardly, and he’d rather brave the fires of hell than look bad in her eyes.
He’d never felt bigger than when she’d thanked him for standing between her and the Rottweilers. The way she’d looked at him had been— wow.
The attraction between them was intensifying, no question about it. He needed to spend time figuring out what to do about that. But he couldn’t even begin to give it the thought itdeserved, not when Solomon, a man he’d worked with for seven years, was dead. Maybe murdered. And Carrie, missing. Maybe dead, as well. And Robert…
Harrison had worked with Robert Philipson for seven years. He just couldn’t believe his friend could be behind this.
There was a plethora of vehicles out front when they got back to the ranch. They pulled their machines to a halt and shut off the engines. Maria took off her helmet and said, “Guess the call’s gone out.”
“What call?” Harry asked.
“The call that a Brand’s in trouble,” she said, noting Uncle Wes’s truck, Uncle Elliot’s truck, Uncle Ben’s truck, her mom’s van, and Uncle Adam’s big tan SUV.
When they went inside, the house was packed. Everyone was talking at once, they’d all brought food… and shotguns, none loaded. “You don’t go indoors with your hat on or your gun loaded,” was one of her favorite “Uncle Garrettisms.”
Maria glanced up at Harry. He was looking around with wide eyes, so she cut a whistle to shut them all up. “Everyone, this is Harry?—”
“Harrison.”
“— Hyde.” She looked Harry right in the eye. “And whether some thief steals credit for his solar tile or not, everyone here should know he’s the one who created it. He’s the one who helped save the world. Assumin’ we do.”
“Hot damn!” Uncle Wes said. Everyone joined in, shoutinghell, yeahor its equivalent. Harry’s cheeks turned red. Hemuttered “thanks” several times as her relatives applauded him. The ones close enough clapped his back or shoulder.
“Not just me,” he said, softly, which had the effect of silencing everyone in the room.
Uncle Garrett and Bubba stood side by side. Bubba had grown as tall and broad as his adopted dad, but he had the swarthy complexion of his birth father. His mother had been Chelsea’s sister. He’d always called them Aunt Chelsea and Uncle Garrett, even though they were legally his parents.
Uncles Elliot, Adam, and Wes stood together. Aunt Chelsea was offering sandwiches from a platter she’d manifested from thin air, and the other aunts, Esmeralda, Taylor, and Kristen were sending speculative looks between her and Harry.
“I had a team,” Harry went on. “Solomon was brilliant. There wasn’t a problem he couldn’t think his way around. He was socially awkward, and painfully shy, and too old to be single, as his mother told him a hundred times.” He paused and swallowed. “He was her only son.”
Heads lowered around the room.
“And Carrie…” He had to stop for a breath. Maria saw him swallow. “She’s a middle-aged woman with a genius IQ and a husband who needs her. He has early onset Alzheimer’s and no one else to rely on.”
“Hold onto hope,” Aunt Chelsea said. And everyone murmured in agreement.
Baxter, Maria’s oldest cousin emerged from the throng. He had shaggy blond hair and black-framed glasses. He handed Harry a white box with an apple on its lid. “Figured you’d need a laptop. We heard yours was ruined in the car.”
“Holy… Baxter, that’s too much.”
“We went in together, we cousins,” Baxter said. “We want you to have it.”
