No one had ever said Chris North didn’t know how to manage his money. Ill-gained or respectably earned, depending on one’s perspective, it spent the same. And Chris understood the value of mental relaxation after a harrowing life spent protecting his country and his men, those he considered family.
Back when she’d first come to live with him, Uncle Chris hadn’t been a homebody at all. He’d had a small apartment in the city he rarely visited. He’d been deploying all the time, entering hot zones and often barely surviving them. But things changed when he’d become the legal guardian of both a four-year-old and a six-year-old.
As much as he’d attempted to provide stability, he’d gone about it in an unorthodox fashion, teaching his girls to protect themselves like any well-trained Marine.
Janeoomphedas another bear hug squashed the breath out of her, though this one lifted her off her feet.
Joe, one of her many honorary uncles, swung her around and laughed. “Destruction” indeed. The six-foot-four marksman could hit anything with a firearm. His weapon of choice was the AI AXSR, a multi-caliber, long-range sniper rifle. At fifty-two years old, with cropped hair, dark skin, and darker eyes, he looked hard and experienced, until he smiled. Then he looked like one of her favorite uncles.
Along with Hal, who waited impatiently to hug Jane as well. He shoved Joe aside and embraced Jane with a paternal warmth, giving her a peck on the cheek as he set her back.
The pair studied her, glanced at each other, then sighed.
“We heard about the murder and the suspension.” Joe paused. “Who are we killing?”
Jane knew better than to think he might be joking. She glared. “I’mlooking into things. I’ve got this covered.” She wouldn’t have minded some help, but she didn’t have the time to keep an eye on the guys while also working her investigation.
She’d rather herd cats than keep Team Ten in line. They had a tendency to scatter like marbles when left unattended and brought chaos wherever they landed. Her uncle had a knack for keeping their anarchy contained, though his definition of “contained” wasnotthe same as hers.
If the problem were left to Joe, he’d mow through the Mazzuca crime family one .30 caliber at a time. Hal would simply wipe out their finances by illegally hacking their banking records. Or he’d plant incriminating files in their computers, mess with their security, then implicate them in something shady they couldn’t escape.
Though his way had a certain appeal, she needed to catch a killer and end the Mazzucas’ reign of crime the legal way.
Although…
No. Nope. Uh-uh. Law and order is my rock.
Sad that she had to remind herself of that when around her family.
“I mean it,” she said to themandherself. “I’ve got it handled. Grace is helping me.”
They settled at the mention of her friend. She had a feeling Grace had helped the team a time or two in secret.
Hal sighed. “Fine. Be Miss Independent. But we’re here if you need us.” Like Joe, Hal looked like he could handle himself. But while Joe looked like a mammoth bruiser who could end a person with one punch, Hal had brilliant blue eyes, blond hair, and a golden tan that put one in mind of surfers and the California sun. His features were almost too pretty to belong to a man.
The team called him Boy Toy, Toy for short. Joe’s real name was Randall Finnegan, but he’d been telling “Yo Mama” jokes for so long that Yo had morphed into Joe and stuck.
Hal continued. “Oh, Chris said he and the others should be back next month. Probably.” He grinned at her. “If you’re nice, we’ll tell you what we brought you for Christmas.”
Christmas.Crap. She hadn’t done any shopping yet.
Joe guffawed. “You owe me five bucks. See that face? That’s panic. She doesn’t have anything for us.”
“First, I am not panicked.” What was with everyone seeing emotions on her standard poker face? “And two, I have presents.”
“Liar.” Hal patted her on the head.
She swatted at him. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
Joe brightened. “You brought your pistol?”
“It’s in the armory.” His gift a few years ago, a Sig Sauer P322. The rounds didn’t cost much, which was a bonus, and the smooth recoil was tons better than her service Glock. Sadly, she hadn’t fired the Sig in nearly half a year, too busy with real life.
“Terrific. We should go hit some targets and de-stress.”
Jane wasn’t surprised to see Joe’s excitement. He lived for the challenge of a bullseye. Though he had no problem taking out threats to the country, he would much rather hit paper targets. He had a true appreciation for the thin line between life and death, no savage killer, but a man who understood and accepted his mission in life to make the world a safer place.
Joe looked at Hal. “Come on, slacker. You know you need the practice.”
