Stomping to the sliders, Stan pushed them open and marched into the backyard.
“Fuck.” He hadn’t covered his tracks by moving the tool chest away from the wall.
It didn’t take his brother long before he came stomping back, wearing an astonished frown.
“How stupid are you? I’m serious, bro. How? Stupid?”
What was he supposed to say? “Shut up. I learned my lesson.” He gestured to the makeshift ice pack. “Isn’t this enough?”
“You tell me.” Stan threw his hands up. “If you go off script, I’m all sorts of screwed. What am I supposed to do? Is there a 1-800 number to report fuckups?”
“It wasn’t a fuckup, and I did not go off script. Stop acting like Dad.”
“Pfft. I’ll take Dad over Mom as a role model any day.”
Digging his hole deeper wouldn’t accomplish anything, plus he was beat.
“Look, can we be finished here for tonight? I can’t fucking think straight with her so close. I vote we close up shop and head to the hotel. Getting out of this damn getup will go a long way to improving my mood.”
“No problem,” Stan answered. He sounded and looked indifferent.
“We have work to do,” Arnie muttered. “Tomorrow will be here soon enough. I’m expecting an update from King on your mother’s whereabouts. Things will move quickly once we know where she is.”
The call from King came sooner than either of them expected. On the drive from Sherman Oaks to a Hilton hotel in Burbank, Arnie’s phone rang.
“Templeton,” he answered gruffly after checking the number of the caller.
“Arnie,” King replied in a businesslike manner. “We’ve got her. She used her VISA card in a Beverly Hills salon, so our information was correct. She’s on-site and taking it to the next level. My bet is on a change of appearance. Something dumb like hair color.”
The part of him personally involved felt nothing but anxiety. His other side, the professional side, took in the facts as they came and rearranged things in his mind like deck chairs on a yacht.
“Is she out in the open?”
“She’s not making any effort to hide.”
“What do you think it means?”
King murmured, “Hmph. Good question.” After a second’s pause, he grew even more serious. “The lady is either too dumb for words or completely brazen. Either way, she’s dangerous. And Arnie? Listen up, man. If she thinks there’s nothing to lose, I predict she’ll take it to the limit. Be prepared, okay?”
“Milo and Jade loaded me up with distraction devices. I gave Stan a quick workshop in flash-bang diversions. Backup in case I need it.”
“I’ve alerted a couple of old Navy SEAL buddies with the LAPD. Dottie will text you their contact details. When it’s time to involve the authorities, you call one of them first.”
“Understood. Is there an update on who is watching Summer? It would help to pinpoint the direction of the danger.”
“Not yet. The check Giselle wrote went to an account in Chicago, and all we can find out is a lot of nothing. Everyone has an alias. Jon is leaning on the lawyer, though. Bruce Wells wants to help but pulling what he doesn’t realize he knows out of his head will take time.”
“I want this wrapped up quickly. There’s enough to explain as it is. Add keeping my presence a secret and using Summer and my daughter as decoys isn’t going to sit well.”
“You have to ask yourself what the lady might say if she had a vote. I’ve learned from Dawn and becoming an instant father that parents will do whatever it takes to stomp out the flames of a threatening fire. She might be on board with ensnaring Giselle in a trap.”
Summer possessed a fierce spirit to begin with. Add motherhood into the mix and she had to be on her way to iron-mom status.
He didn’t laugh, but his snort held a tinge of amusement. “React first—think second.”
King laughed. The snarky saying was one of Dottie’s favorites. She was their official referee and was always flagging some play or other because according to her, their plans were sometimes so thick with testosterone there was no way for sense to poke through.
“If that’s how she rolls, I’m definitely going to like your Summer.”
“King,” Arnie mumbled, but the words he needed to say got stuck in his mouth.
“I know, Arnie. It’s cool, man. You, Jon, and me are the one, two, and three pins in bowling. We got picked off in a clean sweep by amazing females. It’s okay to freak out—just relax, and everything will