Page 70 of Edge of Danger

Ian shrugged. “To see if I could do it. Piper said you guys had pretty sharp security. I didn’t think a guy like you would be too impressed by some stranger knocking politely on your front door to let you know I had married your baby girl. I figured you’d want to know I was man enough to be part of the family.”

That made Brothers leaned back hard in his chair and stroke his mutton chops furiously. Eventually, the man looked over at Piper. “Never thought you’d marry a man like me. Thought you’d go for some military asshole who swallows the government’s propaganda and spouts it back like a robot.”

Ian schooled his jaw to relax, his expression to stay open.

“Oh, he can be an asshole from time to time,” she muttered.

Brothers laughed. “Doesn’t let you push him around, huh?” The man’s gaze lit on him. “Good for you, son.”

He’d been upgraded from boy to son. He hoped that was a good sign.

“What do you do for a living?” Brothers demanded.

“Mechanic,” he answered, sticking to the legend the analyst had created for them. Less chance of him and Piper getting their story wires crossed that way. “Diesel engines, mostly.” The diesel detail had been Piper’s idea. Tractors used the old-fashioned engines and were slightly less unacceptable to the PHP than modern, electronic, fuel-injected vehicles.

He shrugged. “I also like to hunt. Do some fishing. I carve a little in my spare time. Not that Piper leaves me much time for that. Always seems to have a list of stuff for me to do.”

The entire group of men laughed at that. Honey Do lists were universal, apparently.

Piper scowled on cue, and said, “It’s getting late. Can we bed down here, tonight, or should we head back to town?”

“Where you staying?” her father asked.

“We grabbed a cabin at the Trout Camp.”

“Might as well throw down a sleeping bag, here. We can talk more, tomorrow. Get to know Ian, here.” So. Brothers didn’t entirely trust him, yet. Good instincts, the guy had. Didn’t completely the buy the story of why they’d broken in to the compound. Ian’s own instincts said the guy was buying time. Delaying them. Why? What was on the verge of happening that he and Piper had to be kept out of the way of?

She’d had a good idea trying to talk them out of the compound like that. Although frankly, he would’ve been suspicious if Brothers had let them go so easily.

Sleeping bags were brought for the two of them to bunk down in front of the fire in here, overnight. Ian endured a few ribs about the bags zipping together and caught a scowl from his “father-in-law” over the jokes.

Jeez. Did all men go through this when they married the daughter of some redneck with a shotgun? It was a wonder anyone married those poor girls.

Brothers left them a lantern with a gruff, “Don’t sleep with the Devil, Piper.” And the two of them were left alone.

Ian visually scanned the room for surveillance measures but spotted nothing. He extinguished the lantern, and they duly crawled into their double sleeping bag by the dim light of the fire. He held his arm out in invitation, and she snuggled up against his side.

“We being watched?” he murmured against her temple.

“Not electronically, but maybe.”

“You sure they’re not using electronic surveillance? When we were lying on the floor, I think I saw motion detectors and pressure pads in the shop.”

“Really?” She started to push up on his chest to stare down at him, but he used his hand to anchor her shoulder and hold her down.

“What did your father mean by that last comment about not sleeping with the devil?”

“Favorite saying of his. Sometimes you have to sleep with the Devil if you want to catch him.”

“A cheery bedtime thought,” he muttered. Interesting. The guy thought that sometimes you had to do what you were opposed to for the sake of a greater goal? Ian filed that away for later analysis.

“We need to get out of here,” Piper breathed from behind unmoving lips. “He doesn’t trust you.”

“He doesn’t trust you, either,” Ian replied.

He felt her sigh against his side. Now was not the time to rail against her for failing to reveal her personal connection to this mission. Uncle Sam was gonna have her head—and her job—on a platter for it when they got back to Washington. Too bad. She had real potential as a field observer. Assuming she could learn not to involve herself in local events.

“We should head out sooner rather than later,” she commented. “They’ll expect us to wait until just before dawn to leave. I’d suggest we give everyone a half-hour to settle down and then we split.”

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