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décor and the condiment fixtures on the tables. An ancient wood stove jutted into the room on the back wall, home to a couple of potted ferns. Booths with teal vinyl seats lined the walls. The tables, the big counter, and its stools were edged in chrome. Glass stands of cakes and other treats stood at various intervals on the front counter.
    Everything about the place was warm and welcoming. Eden’s tension melted away. She felt as if she’d just stepped out of a twisted, altered reality and was back in her normal world where gangsters and terrorists—and their hunters—didn’t exist.
    Ty led her to a booth in the back corner. He took the seat facing the room. They looked over the menu and made their selections when the waitress came by. Once they were alone again, she leaned forward to speak to him.
    “The doctors said the girls will be released tomorrow morning. I think I’ll take them down to the airport and get them on a flight home.”
    “Good.”
    Good? He was just going to let them go? “Do you believe what Owen said, that the WKB might come after us—me?”
    “It’s possible, though they aren’t exactly known for exerting an effort for something with little payout. I think the farther away you are, the less likely it’ll be that they bother you.”
    “I live in Cheyenne. Not that far away. What if they do come after me?”
    “You have Kit’s number. Call him.” He took out a card and handed it to her. “Or call me.”
    “You have a phone now?”
    “I do.”
    She looked at the card. “What does a ‘Special Consultant to the US Department of Homeland Security’ do?”
    “Whatever we’re asked.”
    “And what are you doing here?”
    “We came out for some R&R.”
    “Huh. So you guys work together and vacation together. With your boss. That’s some kind of tight. You must make amazing bonuses.”
    Ty laughed. “I like this suspicious new you.”
    “It isn’t new. It just isn’t a trait shared by my friends. Your boss said you were here for a job.”
    “We’re never really off the clock. It’s not so much a job as it is a way of life.”
    The waitress delivered their food. They fixed their burgers as they liked them, then ate in silence for a few minutes.
    “Tell me about Tank,” Ty asked. “How is it that you have a service dog as a companion?”
    “I work at a place that trains dogs. The pay is terrible, but the work is so much fun. They have several contracts with various police departments and government agencies to provide dogs for different uses.”
    “You enjoy that work?”
    “I do. I hope I’ll be able to open my own training center one day.”
    “You told Owen Tank can find drugs and explosives. Can he really do that?”
    “Yes.
    Ty wiped his mouth and leaned back in his seat as he contemplated her.
    “What?” Eden asked, her eyes narrowing.
    “Do you ever do consulting?”
    “What kind of consulting?”
    “Searches for hire.”
    “I haven’t.”
    “But you could.”
    “Tank belongs to me, not the center I work for. I can use him as I see fit. Why?”
    “Owen wanted me to have you bring Tank to do his thing at a nearby property.”
    Eden set what remained of her hamburger down. She fussed with her napkin as she played for time before answering him. What did she really know about Ty Bladen or any of his friends? They weren’t Feds. They weren’t cops. They weren’t soldiers. What were they? The sheriff seemed to know them, but he didn’t particularly hold them in a high regard.
    She shut her eyes, thinking how close she’d come to another disaster by just considering doing the job he offered. Hadn’t Sherri done this same kind of thing—blindly trusting a man she didn’t know?
    “I can’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I don’t want to leave the girls alone at the clinic.”
    “They won’t be alone. One of the guys will be with them.”
    “Ty,” she sighed, deciding to come clean. “I don’t know you. I don’t know Owen or your other