Shaking his head, he pulled over and stopped. He got out of the van and slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake the boys.
“I’m warning you, Wyatt. If you try any antics, I’ll let Elias tell you all about the intricate inner workings of the internet,” he threatened.
“My eyeballs are floating, get me out of here,” Wyatt replied irritably.
“Go potty,” Noah said, gazing at Owen.
He shot his brother an angry glare as he unbuckled the car seat.
“Good job telling me, little man,” Owen praised him. “Can you hold Wyatt’s hand and go potty with him?”
“I’m not taking him with me, wake up, Mason,” Wyatt said, making his way to the door.
“I need to speak with Elias. Take your nephew to the bathroom and return to the van. You have two minutes.”
“When can I have clothes? I’m not comfortable wearing underwear this entire time,” he grumbled.
“You can have them after we talk to Dillon,” Owen said, thinking Wyatt reminded him of the petulant four-year-old who made his mother cook something different for him every day. Thinking back, his mom babied her last child, enabling him.
Elias waited until Wyatt and Noah left before asking, “What’s up?”
“What do you know about Dillon? The farther back we drive, the more I see the makings of a prepper. I have two, no three kids in the van. I can’t take them into an unsafe area.”
Shrugging, Elias replied. “It beats me. I have tried to get into his file. It’s all blacked out and barely exists. I’ve broken into the Pentagon and the Marines and can’t find hardly anything.”
Owen hung his head and scratched his jaw. It seemed Dillon got himself involved in black ops. Wishing Cade accompanied him, he waited for Wyatt and Noah to return.
The hackles rose on his neck, warning him of danger. Owen felt this before and learned to trust his instincts. Walking to where Wyatt took Noah, he found the little boy sitting on a tree stump, rubbing his eyes as he cried and glanced around.
“Hey, buddy. Where’s Uncle Wyatt?” he asked as he drew closer.
Noah pointed straight ahead and rubbed his eyes. Owen glanced in the direction he pointed as hescooped his nephew up in his arms and took him back to the van.
“Where’s Wyatt?” Elias asked. Mason rose as Owen placed Noah in the van.
“I don’t know. I found Noah sitting on a tree stump. When I find him, I’m beating him to a pulp,” Owen growled. “You’ve slept most of the way and pretended for the last half of it,” he said, turning to Mason. “Take care of your kids. Elias, come with me.”
“In the woods?” Elias asked. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. It’s dark in there.”
“Wyatt left Noah by himself, and he barely cried. See if you can be braver than a three-year-old.”
“Why didn’t Wyatt come back with you?” he asked as he climbed out of the van.
“I have a feeling Dillon has something to do with it,” Owen guessed, not in the mood to play his brother’s game.
“All right, Dillon. We know you’re here. Leaving a kid alone in the woods isn’t funny. He’s your nephew,” Owen shouted into the wilderness.
“There’s no one here,” Elias said. “Knowing Wyatt, he took off again.”
“Dillon’s here. I can feel it,” Owen said quietly. “He’s watching us this very minute.”
Mason eased out of the van. “Dillon?”
Silence met them.
“What do we do now? If you tell me we’retraipsing through those woods with only mini flashlights and a stick, you can forget it,” Elias insisted.
“When did he become such a crybaby?” Mason asked, making Owen choke back his laughter.
