Page 19 of Deadly Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #2)

As the team gradually dispersed back to their duties, Olivia stayed to help clear the table. Axel guessed the domesticity of loading the dishwasher grounded her somehow. He deliberately slowed his movements, giving her the space to decompress.

“The flowers are really coming down now,” she said, glancing out the window above the sink. “Sorry. I mean, the snowflakes.” She shook her head. “My brother and I used to—” She stopped abruptly, hands stilling on the plate she was rinsing.

“Used to what?” he asked quietly, not looking directly at her as he dried a wine glass.

She was quiet long enough that he thought she might not continue.

Then she explained, “We called the fat flakes ‘flowers.’ We had this ridiculous tradition. First snow of the year, we’d go out at midnight with hot chocolate and make snow angels.

Even when we were teenagers and supposedly too cool for that kind of thing.

” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “No matter how hard I watched him, James always found a way to dump snow down my coat. We were close then. I never thought we’d drift so far apart. ”

“What changed?”

“He joined Special Forces.” She handed him the plate, her movements mechanical now.

“At first it was just the distance, the deployments. That was hard enough. But when he was home ...” She shook her head.

“It was like talking to a wall. Everything was ‘classified’ or ‘need to know.’ He stopped sharing anything real.”

Axel set the glass down carefully. He knew about James Kane’s suicide.

It was one of the top items in her background file.

He also knew the pattern. He was more than guilty of the same kind of withdrawal.

“We’re trained to compartmentalize. To protect our families by keeping them separate from . .. everything else.”

“I know. Intellectually, I understand it. But?—”

“But understanding doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“No.” She leaned against the counter, finally meeting his eyes. “The irony isn’t lost on me. I spend my days helping people talk about their trauma, but I couldn’t reach my own brother.”

Ouch . The bruised look in her eyes was way worse than the purpling around her throat. “What about your parents?”

“They’re in Upstate New York.”

“And you’re on the West Coast.” He couldn’t help voicing the fact.

“Exactly.” She grabbed a plate from the sink, scrubbing hard. “What about your family?”

Probably not the time to brag on his beautiful, boisterous sisters and his happily married parents.

“They’re … Midwesterners.” He chose his words as carefully as he could, going for an off-hand vibe.

“Dad inherited the local car dealership from his pop. Mom runs the household, and half the town. You know the drill. ”

Her soft smile hit him straight in the chest. “Sounds wonderful.”

He scratched the back of his neck. So much for downplaying things. Plus, who was he kidding? The woman helped the most hardcore of hardcore warriors. She didn’t need his protection. Not emotionally, at least.

She scrunched up her nose. “So I’m guessing full parental representation at Little League and Pop Warner and all school functions?”

“Affirmative.”

“Hot chocolate and sugar cookies on snow days?”

“Pretty much.”

She nodded to herself. “Sounds like heaven.”

He couldn’t disagree. But why did he suddenly ache so badly to give that little red-headed girl the same memories?

Izzy called from the other room, “Axel? You need to see this.”

Olivia’s professional mask slammed back into place. He caught her arm gently before she could move. “Hey. Whatever we find, you’re not alone in this. You know that, right?”

Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, maybe gratitude—before she squared her shoulders. “I know.”

He believed her, mostly. But as they headed back to join the others, he made a silent promise to keep reminding her until she believed it completely.

Izzy spun her laptop around as they entered. “Look at this pattern.” Multiple windows overlapped on the screen, financial records layered with what looked like travel documents. “The Prados’ accounts started shifting three months ago. Small amounts at first, then larger transfers.”

“Classic prep for going underground,” Kenji added. “But here’s where it gets interesting.” He highlighted a series of transactions. “These movements match known Treasury Department protocols. ”

Axel felt Olivia stiffen beside him. “Treasury Department?”

“Specifically,” Zara cut in, “patterns we’ve seen in witness protection cases. The sequencing is textbook.”

“That’s impossible,” Olivia said. “Ben never mentioned—” She stopped, professional ethics warring visibly with the current situation.

Ronan leaned forward, studying the screen. “Pull up his phone records.”

Olivia started. “You can do that?”

“Not legally,” Deke muttered.

Zara grinned cheekily. “It’s only a problem if we’re caught. And I never get caught.”

She brought up a new window. “Multiple calls to a number in Virginia ... cross-referencing ... well, okay then.” She sat back. “It’s a direct line to the U.S. Marshals Service.”

The pieces clicked into place. Axel watched understanding dawn on Olivia’s face, followed quickly by relief and then something closer to embarrassment.

“We jumped to conclusions,” he said quietly. “Saw a threat because we were looking for one.”

“Prado wasn’t taken,” Kenji confirmed. “He went willingly. Part of a planned relocation.”

“Which means ...” Olivia pressed her fingers to her temples. “Which means he’s safe. And I’ve been sitting here thinking?—”

“That someone targeted him to get to you?” Axel finished. “It was a reasonable assumption, given the circumstances.”

“Was it?” She started pacing, the movement sharp and frustrated. “Or are we seeing shadows where there aren’t any? Making connections that don’t exist?”

“Hold up,” Ronan interrupted, his voice carrying the quiet authority that had made him such an effective team leader. “ Let’s back this up. Why did we immediately assume your client’s disappearance was connected to your situation?”

The team fell silent, considering. Axel watched their expressions shift as they processed the question.

“Because someone’s been playing mind games,” Zara added. “The photos, the break-in, the teasing hints. Makes us jumpy.”

“Makes us see threats everywhere,” Kenji concluded. “Which means ...”

“Which means they’re succeeding,” Axel finished grimly. “Whoever’s behind this is getting in our heads. Making us react instead of attack.”

Olivia had stopped pacing, her analytical mind visibly engaging with the problem. “It’s a classic manipulation technique. Create enough uncertainty, and people start questioning everything. Their judgment gets compromised.”

“So we step back,” Ronan said firmly. “Clear our heads. Stop chasing ghosts and focus on what we know for sure.”

Axel nodded slowly. “The photos were real. The break-in was real. The surveillance is real.” He glanced at Olivia. “Someone is definitely targeting you and your practice. But maybe not as broadly as we feared.”

“Which means we can narrow our focus,” Kenji said, already turning back to his computer. “Stop looking for connections that aren’t there and concentrate on the actual evidence.”

The tension in the room shifted, became more focused, more purposeful. Axel could see Olivia’s shoulders straighten as the weight of imagined responsibility lifted.

“I should be relieved that Ben is safe,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

“You are relieved,” Axel responded. “You can be relieved and still be frustrated that we got spun up over nothing. Both things can be true. ”

She met his eyes, a small smile touching her lips. “Voice of experience again?”

“Let’s just say I’ve chased my share of shadows.”

“Understood.” She ran her thumbnail over the grain on the table. “I wonder what will happen to Eileen? I hate to think he’d just leave his wife. They seemed so solid to me.”

From behind Olivia, Kenji caught his eye, jerking his head toward Zara who remained laser-focused on her screens. The medic raised an eyebrow. “Should we tell her?” he mouthed.

Their admission about breaking into Ben Prado’s phone records didn’t seem to shake the woman. In for a penny, in for a pound, as his nonna used to say. He nodded.

Kenji poked Zara in the shoulder. “Tell her.”

“Ouch!” The woman smacked him in the stomach, then caught Olivia’s eye. “Okay. So I may have slipped a tracker into the woman’s purse. Eileen Prado just jumped into an airport limo headed for the Reno-Tahoe airport.”

But instead of relief, Olivia gasped. “What if she’s been forced to go? What if?—”

“It’s a legit WitSec relocation,” Zara insisted. “Local traffic cam showed a glimpse of Ben Prado’s face in the passenger side mirror. He came back for her.”

Olivia hugged herself. “Nice.”

Yeah. About time for a win, even a small one. He gestured toward the kitchen. “Coffee? Sounds like we need to regroup, start fresh.”

Around them, the team was already refocusing. Zara and Kenji argued about new search parameters while Izzy started a fresh timeline on her tablet. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but it felt less ominous now, more like cover than threat.

Sometimes you had to get lost in the woods before you could find your way clear.

An hour and three pots of coffee later, adrenaline fading, they crashed. Brains, even highly trained ones, couldn’t rev high forever. Izzy was the first to recognize the glazed looks, the way everyone kept rereading the same documents without absorbing anything new.

“Time for plan B,” she announced, pulling a deck of cards from her go-bag. “When in doubt, fall back on tradition.”

“Spades,” she continued, dealing with the precision of longtime practice. “Traditional rules. None of that Kenji’s-special-sauce nonsense.”

“My rules are better,” Kenji protested, checking his phone for what had to be the hundredth time that hour.

“Your rules are chaos,” Deke countered, organizing his cards. “Like your fantasy football addiction.”

“It’s not an addiction, it’s an investment strategy.”

Ronan snorted. “That what we’re calling it now?”

While they bantered, Olivia observed quietly, obviously absorbing every tiny detail of their interactions. Occupational hazard, Axel had to figure.

But the dark rings beneath her eyes were not. She yawned, stretching carefully. “I’m gonna pass. I can barely keep my eyes open. Good night,” she called out and padded down the hallway to the first room.

It didn’t take five seconds for the familiar rhythm of the game to settle over Axel and his friends. Back in the day, they’d played this way countless times—in transport planes, desert outposts, safe houses. The cards were usually worn, the conversations well-practiced.

“Chantal got a part in the school play,” Izzy mentioned casually, laying down a queen. “First grade’s agreeing with her.”

“How’s she liking snow?” Axel asked.

“Loving it. Mom, not so much. She’s white-knuckling it every time she has to drive anywhere.” Izzy’s smile softened. “ But she keeps saying it’s worth it, being away from ... everything.”

The team exchanged knowing looks. They’d all been there the night Izzy showed up at their barracks after hours, pregnant, bruised, and terrified, fully expecting to be kicked off the team.

As if they’d ever let that happen.

“UNICORN CANDY TEAM FOREVER!” Kenji suddenly shouted, making them all jump.

“For the last time, we are not letting a six-year-old name our security firm,” Ronan growled, but he was fighting a smile.

“Better than Strategic Whatever Whatever,” Zara muttered. “Which sounds like a government committee designed to bore people to death.”

“Speaking of strategic ...” Deke’s grin turned wicked. “Anyone else notice the Axe-man’s strategic positioning? Always managing to be in Dr. Kane’s personal space bubble?”

Axel kept his face carefully neutral. “She’s our client.”

“Uh-huh.” Izzy’s eyes sparkled. “That why you cooked Nonna’s special risotto?”

“I cook risotto all the time. It’s the weather.”

“Yeah, but you don’t always look like you want to feed it to someone personally,” Kenji chimed in, finally putting his phone down.

“Don’t you have some sports scores to check?” Axel grumbled.

“Nope. All caught up. Free to observe your obvious?—”

“Play a card or forfeit,” Axel interrupted, but he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

The team’s teasing was familiar territory, comfortable ground.

But they weren’t entirely wrong. He’d noticed himself gravitating toward Olivia, finding reasons to be in her space.

And while part of him felt guilty about it—she was supposed to be his therapist, after all—that ship had clearly sailed the moment they brought her here.

Besides, his symptoms were better lately. The nightmares less frequent, the anxiety more manageable. Maybe he didn’t need a therapist. He just needed absorbing work.

Maybe he just needed ... her.

“Earth to Axel,” Zara called. “Your play. Unless you’re too busy thinking about?—”

“I will put you all on perimeter duty,” he threatened, but he was smiling as he laid down his card.

Outside, the snow continued falling. Inside, surrounded by his chosen family’s laughter, Axel felt something settle in his chest. Whatever came next, they’d face it together.

And if his thoughts kept drifting to a certain therapist’s smile ... well, that was nobody’s business but his own.