Page 6 of Protecting Lainey (Broterhood Alliance #7)

The morning sun shimmered across the lake, the surface rippling with the breeze.

Already the water birds were flying in, their wings outstretched as they glided low over the water before landing gracefully and calling to each other.

Lainey balanced her coffee mug in her hand.

For a moment, everything was peaceful. Still.

Saturday night had been a respite from everyday problems.

Laughing with Dani and Autumn, drinking delicious concoctions, enjoying the appetizers, the desserts—all of it was a treat. It’d been too long since she had gone out with girlfriends. Hell, it’d been too long since she had laughed and just relaxed.

On Sunday, she and Luke had a fun day at the park and made pizza for dinner.

But she should have known better than to let her guard down.

Tara arrived to bring Luke to the park, and by the time Lainey reached the site, an uneasy weight settled in her gut. Her sandals clicked across the pavement as she stepped out of her car and scanned the project.

Everything looked goo—No!

The bakery’s new railing was ripped out.

The steps to the porch were hacked apart.

And the mural—the one the high schoolers had painted just a couple of weeks ago in bright red and green, full of life, birds, rainbows, trees.

Destroyed.

Red paint was splashed across it. The paint dripped like blood.

Lainey swallowed hard. She reached for her phone, but her hands trembled too hard to take a picture.

“Not again,” she whispered.

Gravel crunched behind her. She turned to see Gus approaching, hard hat in hand, lips tight.

“I saw this when I got here,” he said, nodding to the project sign—the one they used for site updates. Sprayed across was, you’ve been warned , walk away .

Lainey’s throat tightened. “What the hell is going on?” She stared at the mural. “It’s bad enough they’re vandalizing property; now they’re defacing something the kids poured their hearts into.”

“I know,” Gus said quietly. “This isn’t random.” He shook his head. “This is a message.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’ll call the police again. Maybe they’ll take this seriously and put on extra patrols.”

“You can do that. But this isn’t just your problem anymore, Lainey.”

“Humph. Do you have any good suggestions, because”—she lifted her hands in defeat—“I’m fresh out.”

“Let me make some calls,” said Gus. “See what funds are available.”

Lainey closed her eyes and shook her head.

“It’s worth a try,” said Gus. “The project will never be completed if we don’t stop this.”

“Fine.”

“Trust me,” he said. “I’ll find a way.”

She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make it to her face. “How does the crew feel about this?”

“They’re uneasy. I’ve tried to keep it under wraps.” Then Gus glanced toward several of the crew.

She followed his gaze. A couple were talking, but two of the men were leaning on the tailgate of a truck, watching them a little too closely. A chill danced down her spine.

Down the street, Finn was busy catching up at his building site.

The old cabinets and fixtures were finally ripped out by the crew. The place was gutted, a clean slate, ready for whatever came next. In a couple of days, the electrician and plumber were expected to arrive. He was on track despite leaving to escort the woman and boy to the shelter.

Finn tightened a bolt on a steel bracket securing the newel post at the base of the old staircase and stepped back to survey the build. It was midmorning and hot. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

He peeled off his gloves, tossed them in the truck bed, and grabbed his water bottle. He mentally ran through the next steps after the plumbing and electricity were done—insulation, flooring, paint. His gaze drifted toward the historic district project down the street.

There was something fishy going on there.

There’d been a police presence a few days ago. Supposedly kids were to blame. Some kids had no respect for hardworking people who were trying to rebuild neighborhoods.

And the two men on Gus Navarro’s crew—Travis and Dean.

Lazy, both of them. And Finn couldn’t help thinking there was something odd about their behavior. They were always on the phone or goofing off. He would’ve fired their asses weeks ago, but that wasn’t his call.

A truck rumbled to a stop in front of his building.

The driver’s door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered guy in his mid-thirties climbed out.

“You Ryder?” the man asked.

Finn set down his water bottle and stepped forward. “Yeah. You?”

“Caleb Jennings,” the guy said, holding out his hand to shake. “Just got in. Chase thought you might be able to use my help.”

Finn shook his hand, noting the grip—firm. “You ex-military?”

“Marine,” Caleb replied. “Got out a couple of months ago. Combat engineer, then K9.”

“K9, huh?”

Caleb nodded. “Lost my partner a couple of years ago,” he said quietly. “Dog saved my life more than once. When he passed, I rotated out and started doing recon support.”

“I could sure use the help,” Finn said. “I have a good crew, a kid I’m mentoring, but between Brotherhood jobs and this”—he pointed to the stripped-down building site—“I have more on my plate than I can handle.”

Caleb cracked a smile. “Good. I’m looking to keep busy.”

“Any background in residential construction?”

“More than I need,” Caleb replied with a shrug. “Family’s been building houses for years. I was swinging a hammer before I ever put on a uniform.”

Finn tipped his head toward the door. “Come on in. Let’s get you caught up.”

Inside, the bare interior smelled like old lumber and drywall dust. It didn’t take long to walk Caleb through the floor plan and show him where everything was going.

“Nothing left to do today,” said Finn. “The plumber and electrician are due tomorrow. If you’re up for it, you can handle oversight while I check in with Chase.”

“Absolutely,” Caleb said. “Shoot me the specs, and I’ll keep them on task.”

Finn gave him a brief nod.

As they stepped back outside, Finn took another glance toward the historic district.

Something was brewing over there.

He could feel it.