“I swear on the heads of my grandbabies that Summer and Arianne are the priority. Not catching Giselle.” She paused until he clenched his jaw and blew the air from his lungs.
“But this is your shot, Arnie.”
He noted how she cleverly segued from calling him by his formal operative name to the variation reserved for those he held closest. The reminder of who she was silenced his objections.
In a soft voice, she added, “We can end this thing for all time. You just have to believe and be one hundred percent on board. This is what we do. Don’t doubt what you know to be true.”
He was stone-still and silent while running the specs in his head. Without knowing what the play was, Arnie had to rely on instinct and previous experience. King and Jon’s involvement was the closest thing to a guarantee of success. Dottie’s passionate vehemence also held considerable weight.
The choice wasn’t easy.
Nodding to wordlessly signify he was on board, Arnie looked at King. “I have to be there. Don’t try to stop me.”
A smile moved slowly across King’s face. It wasn’t friendly by any stretch of the imagination. He was hundreds of steps ahead, and the realization brought Arnie considerable relief.
“Miss Felicity Toy is in her camouflage den as we speak. I believe the smokescreen she has in mind will give you lots to work with.”
Stan’s laughter caught his attention, and he turned his gaze on his brother.
“Something I need to know?”
“Yeah,” Stan sniggered. He held out his hand for Arnie to shake. “Welcome to Aloha Design.”
“What?”
Shaking his hand, Stan laughed. “Yeah. Aloha Design. We’re in business together, bro. We’ve even got a silent investor with tons of money to burn.” Stan pointed at their father.
Arnie scowled. “Wait, what?”
King and Jon chimed in with amused voices. “So you guys just acquired a fixer-upper in Southern California, courtesy of the realtor stylings of none other than Jeremy Anders. Milo set up Aloha Designs as an LLC. He’ll want your input on a logo and shit like that.”
“Okay, time-out.” He made the appropriate hand gesture and then sat back heavily. Nothing made sense.
Dottie picked up the thread and spoke to him like he was half simple. He might have laughed if the subject weren’t so damn serious.
“So once upon a NIGHTWIND time, the recently reconciled Wanamaker brothers went into business with the silent funding of their moneybags father.”
“That’s me.” His dad chortled. “Moneybags McGee.”
“Oh fuck,” Stan barked with laughter. “That’s our cover! The McGee brothers.” With a loud hand slap, he high-fived their dad and then bowed when King and Jon applauded.
“An-ee-way,” Dottie drawled, “Aloha Designs is born. According to the business prospectus Milo put together, you and Stan buy homes, renovate, and flip. The cover is standard workmen. Trucks, tools, work belts.”
“Here’s the best part,” Stan cut in. “We’re actually gonna do some work, even if that means hiring local guys to get it done.”
“Getting ’r done,” Jon teased. “A Louisiana boy favorite.”
“This isn’t about you,” King told him. “Shut up. Can’t you see poor Arnie is dropping a poop trail? He just came face-to-face with what it means to find the one. Give the man some goddamn respect.”
Two fingers snapped near the end of his nose. Arnie jerked and looked into his father’s eyes. “Are you following, son?”
“Um, yeah. I think so. I just have one question. What happens when Summer sees me? Do you have a plan for her reacting to me turning up in her neighborhood as a house flipper?”
“That’s where Izzy takes over. She’s got you covered, dude. If we understand things correctly, your lady doesn’t know Stan, so he’s in the clear. Stan McGee.” Jon chuckled. “You, ya giant a-hole. That muscle beach blond thing you’ve got going on is the problem.”
Dottie shoved her phone a few inches from his face. “Here’s her digital overview of your makeover. Weighted bodysuit to alter posture, add pounds, and redistribute body mass. As long as you keep your clothes on, your own father won’t recognize you.”
He peered closely at the proposed disguise. He had to hand it to Izzy. She used her genius to manipulate key parts of his features. This sort of thing wasn’t new. He had plenty of experience changing his appearance when going deep cover and blending into the background.
Her concept of colored contacts, a hairpiece, bushy eyebrows, and a mustache, plus the stoop of a middle-aged, slightly overweight blue-collar workman was a work of undercover art.