When he walked into his parent’s house, they were both in the kitchen. Emma was at the stove, a frothy soup smelling of bay leaves and thyme bubbled in front of her. Albert paused as he spoke to Emma from the table. Everything appeared calm and peaceful between them now, with no trace of the tension from this morning. Dante wondered what had happened, but he knew better than to ask.

“How did the harvesting go?” Emma lit up as they walked in.

“Good. Great. We’re pretty tired.” Dante put down the basket of pears.

“How much did you harvest?” Albert clasped his hands together.

“A bin of apples. The pears were easier to bruise, so we had to go slow. Got half a bin or maybe a little more.” Laurie sat down at the table.

“Not bad.” Albert raised his eyebrows. “Not bad at all.”

“The farmhouse over there is beautiful. Gorgeous!” Laurie rested her head on her hands, her eyelids drooping. Dante knew she was exhausted.

“Yes, it is beautiful. Did you go upstairs?” Emma peered at them over her shoulder as she stirred.

“We did. The master bedroom and bathroom were amazing! I don’t understand why you haven’t moved in yet.” Laurie melted onto the table in a puddle.

“Oh, Albert and I have plenty of room here. We have almost the same size master. Maybe not as polished, but close enough. We’ve been trying to find a renter for the house, but haven’t had much luck.” Emma shot Dante a pointed look.

“We’re hoping maybe Bob and Gabriella will get interested, if they ever come to visit.” Albert leaned onto the table with his elbows.

“Because of course he doesn’t actually trust anyone else to live there.” Emma took bowls out of the cabinet and set them down with a hearty thunk.

Albert rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t say that, Emma. I would just hope my brother and his wife could live a little bit closer. There would be plenty of room for the boys.” Albert huffed.

Dante looked at Laurie, and they both smiled. Yes, now he knew his parents were just fine.

“Emma is that soup you’re making going to take very long?” Albert ran his hands over the table. “Because if it is, I could use Dante’s help in the barn for a minute.”

Emma dipped a spoon into the soup, tasting it.

“Probably another ten to fifteen minutes or so. I don’t think I soaked the beans long enough.” She waved them away.

“Son?” Albert raised his eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, sure.” Dante stood up. He didn’t want to move, but he had a feeling he knew what this was about.

He walked out to the barn with his father, where Albert turned on several work lights.

Albert walked over to a panel beside the metal tool organizer. He pulled out a fake portion of the wall. Dante could see there were several stacks of cash and behind that, several rolled up pieces of paper, all encased in a glass container. He watched his father open the lock on the glass container with a key on his key ring. Then he took out one of the rolls of paper. He brought it over to the worktable where Dante stood waiting.

“I had a call today from the agency.” Albert unrolled a map of Hawaii, hand drawn to scale. “They’ve gotten a lead that Kaimi may be in Kauai, here.”

He pointed to a region spanning between the island’s two airports at the southern tip.

“He has quite a few friends at the golf club. Friends that would be willing to put him up for a while.” Albert looked up at Dante for a reaction.

Dante shook his head.

“Must be nice.”

“Not for long. The agency gave the information over to the FBI. They’re getting ready to do a raid in the next couple of days. They’ve been watching the house round the clock. If they so much as see his golf clubs, they’ll be on him.”

“Good. So we should know by the end of the week?”

Albert nodded. His father’s expression became much more severe. He looked at Dante, his brown eyes hardening by the second. Dante braced for impact. Nothing that followed that expression was ever a good thing. Ever.

“They think they know who the mole in the Marshals Service is.”

“Who?”

Dante gripped the worktable, leaning onto it. His heart stuttered. He wanted to know who the mole is, but God, it must be awful news for his father to look at him like that.

“You.”

Dante stood for a minute before his brow furrowed. He let the news sink in, but it didn’t make any sense at all. He stepped back from the table.

“Wait. What?”

“They think you’re the mole.”

“They can’t.”

“They do. You took the girl and disappeared. They think you were feeding Kaimi the information. When his two attacks didn’t succeed, you killed her off yourself.”

Dante stumbled backward. He felt numb. The nerves in his face and fingers seemed to have stopped feeding his brain information. God, they thought it was him. They thought he deceived them all. They thought he killed Laurie. Dante ran both hands through his hair. This couldn’t be happening. He started to pace.

“I’m sorry, son. They think it’s you. I wondered why Hilton hasn’t called. I doubt he will.”

“This is a disaster.” Dante came back to the table. He placed both hands on it to steady himself.

“It’s not a total disaster. You have Laurie. She’s safe. When you bring her back, they’ll know they were wrong.”

Dante nodded. His face contorted with anguish and he gripped the table harder. This whole situation was spinning out of his control. He felt his tenuous hold on it slipping away.

“This might even lure out the real mole—make him tip his hand now that the blame is all on you. This might work to our advantage.”

Dante, lost in thought, stared at the floor.

“The Marshals Service is doing their best to track you down, though right now they’re looking in New York.” Albert shook his head with a rueful smile.

“Why New York?” Dante asked.

“An informant in Kaimi’s organization heard that Kaimi planned to meet with the mole, but the mole had to cancel to leave for New York, so they think that’s where you are.”

“God damn it!” Dante walked away from the table, his hands balled into fists.

“What? Does that mean something to you?”

Dante stalked the floor of the barn below the loft, his father watching him closely. Anger coiled violently in his chest until he could stand it no more. He smashed his fist into the nearest support beam, which only succeed in making a satisfactory thud. Dante turned back to his father, shaking out his hand.

“Max.”

“Who is Max?”

“One of my men.” Dante ran his hands through his hair before he returned to the table. “Max was on my team. His parents live in New York. It must have been him.”

“Well, a lot of people go back and forth to New York, that doesn’t mean it was him.”

“No, I know it. I know it was Max. He acted strangely that entire assignment. I thought his unusual interest in Laurie was because of attraction. God, why was I so stupid? How did I not see it?”

“Traitors are not so easy to spot. It could still be anyone in the Marshals Service office. There’s not much we can do until the FBI catches either Kaimi or his informant. Then you’ll have your chance to clear your name.”

“I can’t believe they’d even suspect me. After everything I’ve done there.”

Dante stood over the table, one hand on his hip, and the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Not a moment for pride, Dante. After all, if you were them right now then you would suspect the same thing.”

Albert leaned over the table. He picked up a pencil and shaded in the area where the FBI suspected Kaimi was hiding. Dante watched a slow, sly smile creep across his father’s face.

“We just need to have a little bit of patience, and they’ll come out of hiding.”

Albert stood upright. He rolled up the piece of paper and put it back in the glass case.

“Let’s get back for super, shall we?”

“Yeah.” Dante shook out his anger.