She almost grinned. She would have, if her imagination and her fear weren’t in overdrive.

“Knowing Mom, I’ll say yes.” She nodded.

“See you then.” He turned and disappeared, leaving Eve alone with Timothy, Dawg, and Brogan.

“This wasn’t a fox,” Eve stated, keeping her voice low as she stared at each man in turn before pausing as she caught Brogan’s eye. “Was it?”

Brogan shrugged, but she could see a warning in his eyes, in his expression, as he watched her.

“Whatever it was, it won’t be back tonight,” Dawg growled. “I’ll get Natches later today and get some security cameras up out here. That way we catch the fox doing this and put it out of its misery.” His voice hardened.

“You’re not calling Alex?” Eve demanded, speaking of Somerset’s chief of police and one of Dawg, Rowdy, and Natches’s best friends.

“Killing a rabbit isn’t a crime, Eve.” Dawg sighed. “And if it was a fox—and they are prone to indiscriminately kill—then how is Alex going to help?”

This was no fox kill. Eve had seen a fox go after chickens and kill them, and she had never seen carnage like this. There was that warning in Brogan’s gaze, though, as well as Dawg’s. A warning to watch what she said.

“Go inside, Eve.” Brogan’s voice was so low, the tone so dark, that she found herself doing just that.

Casting them all a look filled with irritation, she stepped into the kitchen with her mother and sisters, gritting her teeth as she closed the door carefully behind her.

“Why are you still here?” Dawg demanded, not bothering to lower his tone or attempt to hide what he was saying as he looked up from where he was crouched on bent knees to study the porch.

“I’m nosy.” Brogan didn’t bother to lower his voice either. “It’s not every day I get to see a fox’s kill, you know.”

Dawg snorted at the comment.

“They’re watching you.” This time Dawg’s voice carried no farther than Brogan’s and Timothy’s ears.

Lifting the cigar to his lips to hide his reply from anyone watching now, Brogan stated, “Yeah, they are.”

“Retaliation?” Dawg questioned.

Would Donny and Sandi go to these lengths?

“I’ll find out,” Brogan promised.

And he would.

If Donny and Sandi were behind this—and he didn’t doubt in the least that they could be—then it wouldn’t happen again. He’d show the two and anyone else what would happen if Eve was struck at again.

They were testing him; he could feel it.

Doogan had warned him when Eve’s name had first come up that there could initially be problems. There were those who would do anything to keep her brother from getting involved in their business. That was one of the things that made Eve so important to the operation at this point. The second and even more important reason was the report that someone had information that could clear this case up, and only Eve could convince them to come out of hiding.

The minute the rumors had started that Brogan was interested in her, the report had hit Doogan’s desk. A confidential informant had contacted Doogan claiming that the thefts of military files were linked to something far bigger than DHS realized, and there was information that someone had answers besides the thieves. Someone that might be convinced to come forward if he thought Eve Mackay was in danger.

A year of investigation and still they hadn’t figured out which of Eve’s friends could possibly know about the thefts, let alone know why the files were being stolen.

“What are you going to do?” Dawg murmured, as he seemed to still be studying the death spread across the porch.

Timothy was still silent, but the calculating rage that burned in his eyes assured Brogan that his silence didn’t bode well for whoever was behind the bloody mess Mercedes had walked out to.

“Go hunting,” Brogan answered just as quietly. “For fox.”

SEVEN

Brogan and his partners, Jedediah and Eli, entered the house Donny and Sandi shared in the mountains. There was no proof that the two were behind the destruction of the animals Mercedes and Eve had raised, but as they neared the bedroom, Brogan heard all the proof he needed.

Pausing outside the door, Brogan listened to them gloating about the blood the rabbits had shed and the mess they made. They had often seen Eve petting them and letting them out into the wire enclosure where she played with them.

That made their crime much worse, because they believed the rabbits were Eve’s pets.

“Did you see how horrified she was?” Sandi drawled. “I thought she was going to puke.” The obviously fake sympathy in her tone had his fists clenching in rage.

“Now, that would have been a real mess,” Donny drawled.

Brogan could feel fury boiling inside him, white-hot and destructive; Eve would have never struck out at Sandi in such a way, no matter what she had done.

But Sandi had killed what she believed were pets, because Eve had bested her in a fight.

Pulling his mask into place, Brogan looked at Jed and Eli where they had taken position across from him. Holding up three fingers to indicate three seconds before bursting into the room, he counted down.

Three.

Two.

One.

Eli went in first.

With a hard kick from Eli’s size-twelve boot, the bedroom door flew off the hinges as he and Jed rushed into the room and grabbed a nearly naked, clearly shocked Sandi from the bed.

In a second flat Sandi was restrained, her hands secured to the wooden arms of a nearby chair, her eyes wide as she stared up at Eli in mortal fear while Jed took his position on the far wall, the short, lethal barrel of the automatic weapon trained on her.

Donny just played stupid.

The little bastard actually thought he was tough enough to take his attackers on, and threw a punch at Brogan’s jaw.

Brogan bitch-smacked him—an insulting backhanded slap across the face, as Sandi had used on Eve. He’d been enraged when he’d seen Sandi deliver that blow to Eve’s face. He wondered how well Donny enjoyed the same insult.

The other man fell against the wall from the slight force. Hell, this wasn’t going to be any fun—

Brogan smiled in delight as Donny straightened.

Maybe the little bastard had some fight in him after all. He damn sure had a wicked as hell bowie knife. Brogan had half suspected he’d gotten his nickname from Poppa Bear for just this reason.

“I know who you are,” Donny screeched, the high-pitched cry sounding a little girlish. “I’m gonna cut you, Brogan; I’m gonna cut you bad.”

Give me a break.

Chuckling, Brogan smiled back at the other man with confident mockery before lifting his hand and curling his fingers in an insulting “come on” wave.

“Fucking cunt,” Donny screamed as he took a swipe at Brogan’s midsection.

Brogan moved back easily, testing Donny’s abilities once or twice. The blade actually came a little too close for comfort as he got a feel for Donny’s actual experience.

Brogan had certainly fought much better opponents with a much higher level of experience. But Donny was piss-his-pants scared, and that made a hell of a difference.

Pressing forward only to step to the side, Brogan caught the other man in midswipe with the knife before striking out himself. With the flat of his hand he slapped Donny again, laughing as the other man’s nose started to bleed.

“Motherfucker!” Sandi screamed out as Donny growled like an enraged bull.

Dancing back from the blade, Brogan waited, feigning one way, then dancing back, staying on the move as Donny let rage and fear drive him.

Donny jabbed the knife toward his belly.

Brogan jabbed his fist into Donny’s face, busting both lips and laughing as Donny spit out pieces of his teeth.