As far as he was concerned, the discussion, like the past, was over. Just because he remembered, just because he still dreamed of her occasionally, didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it now, any more than he’d been able to talk about it then.”

“You may as well call Slade and have him hear this as well,” Cord said after taking another sip of his beer. “I didn’t see Zack outside but if he’s here, call him in. I don’t have time to wait for him otherwise.”

Jazz paused in the act of reaching inside the refrigerator for another beer. Grabbing the bottle he turned on the other man slowly, closing the door absently as he twisted the cap free and tossed it to the trash as well.

“I already warned them you were showing up. They have a few minutes before arriving. What’s going on?” With a Maddox, doing someone else a favor could mean any damned thing.

“Let’s wait on them.” Cord glanced at the door as he braced his arms on his legs and rolled the bottle of beer between his palms. “I don’t feel like explaining it twice.”

Hell. Jazz wondered if it was too late to just kick the bastard out and forget whatever the “favor” was. Thing was, Cord was well aware of Jazz’s ire. Several years before, Jazz had tried to contact him to accompany him and Zack to DC to help Slade when he’d been in trouble there.

The message hadn’t been answered for more than a year. By then it had been too late. Slade had been back in Loudon, the situation in DC resolved.

Slade’s advice to both Jazz and Zack had been to let it go. Letting it go wasn’t easy, though. If Slade hadn’t returned, if the worst had happened, then they would have lost not just the man they called brother, but also the woman whose soul had nearly died when Slade had first left.

Jessie loved Slade with such strength that had something happened to him, Jazz didn’t doubt she’d have drifted away until she was gone as well. A low knock at the door interrupted the memory, pulling his thoughts back to the present. Stepping to the door, Jazz unlocked it before turning the knob and pushing it open.

It didn’t take long for Slade to enter the RV. Jazz tossed him a beer and leaned negligently against the counter, waiting until the door opened again and Zack stepped inside.

For three men who were essentially brothers as well as business partners, Jazz, Slade, and Zack couldn’t have been more different, even in looks. Slade was dark blond, with refined features and an innate confidence often mistaken for arrogance.

Zack was the patient numbers person. He could tally up a construction job in his head so fast it amazed Jazz, and he was normally within a 98 percent margin of the actual cost or profit. Light-brown hair and patient gray eyes hid a man seething with the possible explosion to come, though. He was too damned patient and rarely shared his thoughts, let alone any feelings he might have.

Jazz was the people person. He was the one who took the calls from irate building owners or insurance agents. He didn’t take much shit, but he knew the value of a calm word. At six six, with eyes too blue and strong mountain features, he was known to make even the stoutest man wary; he’d had to work on his people skills over the years. And he’d done a damned fine job of it, if he did say so himself.

She would have been proud of him …

His brothers were damned thankful.

They were friends, brothers, and partners in the building construction business, Rigor Construction, their foster father, Toby, had left them on his death. And now, fourteen years after his death, that business was thriving just as Toby had promised it would.

Only Slade had settled down, though. In Jessie, he’d found a woman who loved him and could put up with him at the same time. Zack was trying to deny who he wanted, but Jazz had seen that relationship building for several years. As for himself, hell, he couldn’t get a ghost out of his heart enough to give it to another woman.

“We’re all here now,” he growled as Slade and Zack glanced over at him questioningly. “What the hell’s this favor you’re so intent on doing for us?”

Cord’s expression hardened for a moment as his head turned to stare back at Jazz. “How well you know that little kindergarten teacher you were swapping tongues with outside?”

Trust Cord to just throw a man’s business in the street for everyone to haggle over. The fact that there was a fine thread of anger in his tone wasn’t missed. Jazz was damned certain where it originated too.

“Swapping tongues?” Slade turned to Jazz instantly with a glare, well aware of who Cord was talking about. “Jazz, dammit, I told you to stay the hell away from Annie. When you break her heart, Jessie will kick both our asses.”

Disgust edged at his friend’s voice as Cord kept his gaze on Jazz for a second before turning to Slade.

“She’s Jessie’s friend, too, isn’t she?” Cord pointed out. “You did a check on her?”

“Of course I did.” Slade’s dark-blond brows lowered as irritation tightened his lips. “What’s this all about, Maddox?”

Reaching into the front pocket of his dark shirt, Cord pulled a slender flash drive from the interior before flipping it to the table where Slade sat.

“I checked her background myself,” he said quietly. “Surface check was gold until I called a contact with ties to the university where she obtained her teaching certificate. There was definitely an Annie Mayes who received one, and she was definitely at the address given until just a few weeks before showing up here. What I found buried a bit, though, was the fact that she flew off to China with her lover—a carefully placed CIA asset—several years ago. Another check there found Miss Mayes happily teaching at a small private school for American businessmen located in Hong Kong.” Mockery filled his hard features. “We might think we’re in BFE sometimes, but I’ve never mistaken Loudon for Hong Kong.”

Jazz stared at the flash drive lying on the table for long moments before glancing back to Cord. “What was your interest? Why take the time to check anything out?”

Cord didn’t always concern himself with what was going on in town; he left that up to his younger brothers. So why pick on a kindergarten teacher who kept to herself?

“I get real curious about folks teaching Kin’s kids,” Cord stated, the dark-emerald gaze glittering dangerously. “She has a new student coming into her class in the fall, one I look after personally. So I did the check personally. Then I started watching her. She spends a lot of time tracking Jazz and that just made me suspicious as hell anyway. And I owe you for being unable to help the three of you when you asked. That’s why I followed up on the information and tried to learn who she was and where she came from. Something I haven’t been able to do. The trail stops with the false identity. I want to know who she is and why she’s here, and your interest in her hinders that…”

Meaning the strong-arm tactics Cord was known for wouldn’t be missed and damned sure wouldn’t go over well with Jazz or his brothers.

“She could be in danger,” Slade pointed out in concern as he glanced at Jazz, then back to Cord. “A false identity doesn’t always mean someone is hiding from the truth, or hiding any wrongdoing.”

Like Jessie and Jazz, Slade had been concerned about some of Annie’s odd habits. There were times she’d seemed to know things about them that she shouldn’t. Once she’d referenced a business that hadn’t been in business for years before she arrived in town. And her familiarity with Slade, Jessie, Jazz, and Zack from the beginning had made them all wary at first.

“If you say so.” Cord wasn’t listening if the shrug of his shoulder and chill in his tone were any indication. “I owe you though, so I’m giving the three of you the chance to figure it out.”

Annie had been wary since coming to Loudoun. She avoided crowds unless school-related; even when attending the weekend lake parties, she rarely stayed long. Who was she hiding from?