“I don’t know who she is,” Cord continued, his expression tightening for a moment. “I don’t care who she is. I want her out of Loudoun and out of that classroom before fall.” The hard, intent look Cord shot him had Jazz’s brows lifting mockingly. “Find out who she is and give me a logical reason for the false identity or get rid of her. You have ten days, then I take care of it.”

He was fucking joking. Jazz almost laughed in his face at the ridiculous order.

“Like hell.” All the lazy negligence Jazz was deliberately projecting disappeared at Cord’s ultimatum. “You call that a favor, Maddox? I call it a personal fucking suicide wish. Stay away from her.”

Jazz straightened from the counter, his arms falling from their position across his chest to drop to his sides as he faced the heir apparent of the Maddox clan. He didn’t give a damn who Cord Maddox thought he was, or what he might have been in the military; he’d be damned if the other man would take care of anything where Annie was concerned.

“She’s a liability.” Icy determination filled the other man’s voice as he simply stared up at Jazz. “The three of you know what that means. I can’t track her, I can’t identify her, that makes her a danger. I will not tolerate the threat to the family, Jazz and you should understand that better than anyone. We’ve lost enough already.”

The reminder didn’t sway him the way Cord had no doubt hoped.

“I said you’ll stay the hell away from her,” Jazz demanded, refusing to consider, or to allow, anything else. “If she’s in danger then I’ll be damned if I’ll let you make it worse.”

He and Cord were on a collision course if the other man thought differently.

“I gave you warning.” Cord rose to his feet, watching Jazz carefully. “Ten days…”

“Three weeks, Cord.” Slade didn’t bother to demand, order, or ask. He made a statement as well as the concession of a deadline.

Three weeks, his ass, Jazz thought.

Jazz didn’t bother to protest; nor did he demand anything even resembling a concession. He kept his gaze locked on Cord’s, let the other man know where it counted that Annie, whoever the hell she was, was off limits.

He and Cord had known each other since they were kids. They’d known each other far too long, Jazz thought, because he knew the core of the man Cord had become in the past ten years. And he knew the Maddox heir would have no problem at all ensuring Annie Mayes was out of Loudoun and no longer an unknown threat. But just because Jazz knew why, because he understood why, didn’t mean it was acceptable.

“You finally let go, didn’t you?” Cord asked then, his tone low, the somber resignation filled with regret.

Was that what Cord actually believed?

“What choice have I had?” Let go? Hell, even Jazz knew he didn’t know the meaning of the term.

“Dangerous game you’re playing, Jazz,” Cord observed wearily as he pushed the fingers of one hand through his thick dark-blond hair. “She could be dangerous to all of us.”

Dangerous? “A friggin’ kindergarten teacher, Cord?” Disgust filled his voice. “How the hell do you figure?”

“Because she’s lying about who she is and why she’s here, which means she has an agenda here. One I can’t figure out,” Cord snapped. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

She was a threat.

Had it been anyone else, Jazz would have agreed. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Annie.

“Evidently she’s a risk I’m willing to take.” It was a risk he had no choice but to take. Annie wasn’t a risk to the Maddox clan or the Kin and he’d be damned if he’d let either of them make her “disappear.” He’d fight the whole mountain if he had to. “By the way, next time, don’t do me any fucking favors, okay?”

Cord nodded, his expression tightening with merciless determination. “Good luck, then, I have a feeling you’ll need it.” Turning back to Slade, he nodded slowly. “You have your three weeks. I hope you don’t regret it.”

Cord moved past him and left the RV by the same door they’d entered. The shadowed, lake side of the parking spot edged into a narrow line of woods that separated the clearing from the parking area. It was a perfect spot to sit and watch those attending the weekend. It was also perfect cover for the Kin to move about and watch without being seen.

“Hell!” Leaning back in his seat, Slade ran one hand over his face before reaching back to rub at his neck. “I knew something was off. I just didn’t expect this. Damn, why didn’t I send someone out to check deeper?”

Jazz had considered it, but he’d backed off at the last minute. He hadn’t suspected this, not consciously, but he knew he should have.

They’d all known something was off where she was concerned, but Jazz had to admit he wasn’t exactly surprised by the fact that she wasn’t who she said she was. There had been too many subtle clues that could have been passed off as eccentricities—but once the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, they explained that odd off feeling Jazz experienced around her sometimes.

“Are we telling Jessie about this?” Zack asked at that point, a single brow arching quizzically as he faced Slade.

Annie was Jessie’s closest friend. The two women could get as giggly as teenagers whenever they were together. They borrowed each other’s clothes, shoes, and purses and argued incessantly over their favorite shows.

“As if I have a choice.” Slade grimaced, the look of helpless resignation almost amusing. “I swore I’d never hide anything important from her again. I’m pretty sure she’d consider this important.”

Yeah, Jazz thought, he’d agree with her, too.

“Ya think?” Zack grunted sarcastically.

“Where do we start?” Jazz pinned Slade with a hard look. He knew where he was going to start, but some information was better kept silent in deference to the ulcer Slade often swore Jazz and Zack were going to give him.

If Cord had already tracked Annie to the point that he knew she wasn’t Annie Mayes but had been unable to dig up so much as a hint of her real identity, then their job would be next to impossible without going outside their normal routes for information. The Kin weren’t just in Loudoun, nor were they all mountain-raised. It was a network that had begun in the mountains only to spread to encompass only God knew how much distance through the subtle web of family links, yet Cord didn’t have the answers he wanted. Someone with a bit more finesse was probably needed at this point.

“We’ll go over the report Cord put together first,” Slade said, nodding to the flash drive. “I’m going to bet he’s already checked with contacts in the FBI and marshal’s office for witness protection or an agent op. That doesn’t give us many tools to use ourselves.”

He was going to paddle Annie’s ass for this, Jazz swore. Damn her, if she was in trouble then she should have come to him, or Slade. She could have trusted them. She should have trusted Jazz at least.

“Why not just ask her,” Jazz bit out, growing more pissed by the minute. “Confront her with the information Cord pulled up and see if she has the good sense to trust us.”

Slade watched him doubtfully then. “She’s Jessie’s best friend, Jazz. Do you really think that would work?”

The two women were a lot alike in some ways, they’d observed over the past two years. So much so that Jazz suspected Annie would be just as stubborn as Jessie. But with Annie, he had a feeling they had more to fear than her anger. Annie would run.

“We do have options, though.” Picking up the flash drive, Slade stared at it for long moments before closing his fingers on the small device. “I’ll get a copy of this to you two in the next thirty minutes. Then I’ll start making some calls, see what I have to work with.” The look he gave Jazz was a warning. “Look, I know you’re interested in her, but don’t play with her, Jazz. Jessie will just get pissed off at both of us. If Annie gets hurt while she’s in trouble, then we just may get hurt as well.”