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was perfect. Her eyes remained downcast for a long moment. She locked her gaze on his face. “I have no intention of blowing it, sir ,” she said quietly.
    “Honey.” He stepped closer. She stiffened and shook her head. He stopped.
    “General Moore, whatever your reason for giving me this detail, I truly appreciate the opportunity. Be very clear. That. Is. As. Far. As. It. Goes.”
    He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. She left without another word or looking back.

Chapter 4
     
     
    Jack O’Brien stood in his niece’s room. The seven-year-old slept curled around her favorite stuffed toy, Blue Bear. The princess night light provided enough glow for him to note changes she’d made since the last time he’d visited. More books, a new drafting table, with her tiny martial arts uniform draped over it, and were those . . . He walked to the table and picked up tiny pink boxing gloves.
    “Don’t wake her,” his mother, Clare, whispered from the doorway. He held up an arm and nodded. He didn’t want to wake the child. Each time Ali saw him her eyes sparked for an instant then grew sad, realizing he wasn’t her father. It damn near broke his heart to see her like that. He’d let his hair go long and grown a beard so the child wouldn’t see her father in him. His mother sighed deeply and he listened to her soft footfalls grow fainter in the hall and finally go down the stairs.
    He crouched beside the bed and moved back the dark curls resting on Ali’s forehead and took in her sweet little-girl scent. She stirred and rolled to her back. He held his breath and didn’t dare move. She rubbed one eye and squinted at him with the other. “Daddy?” Her voice delivered a bolt of hurt.
    “No, it’s not Daddy.” His body heaved with a sigh. “It’s Uncle.” Why hadn’t he left well enough alone?
    From her spot at the end of the bed, Ali’s rottweiler, Sasha, lifted her head and gave a disapproving snort. Ali stretched out her arms and wiggled her fingers. Her way of asking for hugs. He leaned, gathered her up and sat on the bed holding her in his lap. She snuggled against his chest. Her little fingers rose to his beard, danced there for a moment, then dropped to her lap. Sasha crawled nearer, touching her massive head to his thigh.
    “Uncle,” she said through a yawn, “you smell like my daddy.”
    He said nothing as he gently rocked her, fighting back hot tears.
    “I miss Mommy and Daddy,” she said through a yawn.
    He rested his lips on the top of her head and whispered, “I miss them too, Peanut. I miss them too.” How had this tiny creature captured his heart by simply being? The moment Lee thrust the dimpled, smiling infant into his arms he was hooked. Now, she was his. He was her guardian, to forever protect. It was his responsibility to see she was happy and became . . . became what she wanted to be. Jack rocked her until her breathing told him she was asleep again. He tucked her and Blue Bear in under the pink coverlet, kissed the tip of a finger and touched it to her cheek. “Love you, baby girl.”
    The big dog sighed, resuming her guard position, and Jack scratched her behind an ear. “Take care of her.”
    Sasha snorted as if saying, “Back at ya.”
    Jack retreated into the hall, leaned against the wall and took out his cell to once again listen to his brother’s last message.
    “Hey, man,” his brother’s voice filled his head. “Ali can’t wait to see you. She has some new tae kwon do moves she wants to show you.”
    “After four lessons she thinks she’s an expert,” Becca said in the background. “Better be ready to be taken down.”
    Lee laughed. “Later, bro.”
    Later they were dead. A home invasion gone bad. Bullshit, they’d been slaughtered. If his plane hadn’t been late he would have been there. If his mother hadn’t taken Ali and the monster dog for the afternoon. If she hadn’t been delayed in bringing Ali home by a washing machine delivery . . . Jack