Operation Alpha. Justine Davis

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      “At first. Maybe do a couple of basic exercises or I’ll show some examples of stuff at the foundation of the discipline, so people get a feel for if they’ll like it or hate it.”

      He flashed that grin and, despite having seen it before, Ria nearly gasped. His easy smile had punch enough, but that sudden grin was lethal.

      “Guess I’d better bring a book,” he said, nodding toward Dylan’s backpack, “in case nobody shows up.”

      For the first time Dylan smiled. “They’ll show up.”

      “Maybe help spread the word? I’d hate to be sitting there by myself tomorrow afternoon, reading my truck maintenance manual or something.”

      “I could loan you a copy of War and Peace,” Ria suggested, encouraged by Dylan’s continuing smile.

      This time Dylan actually laughed at Liam’s exaggeratedly horrified expression.

      “Try it,” Dylan suggested. “Ms. Connelly can make even that really interesting.”

      Ria was moved by the simple compliment. “Thank you, Dylan. You did quite well in that section.”

      The boy looked pleased in turn. He nodded toward the flyers Liam held. “Maybe I could help, post some of those around?”

      “That would be great,” Liam said, separating out several. “Just anywhere people pass by a lot.”

      “Well,” Ria said after Dylan, with a final pat for Cutter, had gone off with flyers in hand, “that went well.”

      “Seemed to,” Liam agreed.

      “I think he’ll show up. Then you can get some one-on-one time with him.”

      He nodded. “There’s something going on with him, for sure. Question is, is it more than just being a teenager?”

      “What you saw at the end there, the smile, the laugh? That’s what he was like all the time, before.”

      “Happy kid.”

      “Mostly.” She sighed. “Dylan was usually the peacemaker. He could talk kids out of fighting or crack a joke that would have them laughing instead.”

      An odd little smile turned up just one corner of his mouth, and Ria wondered if perhaps he’d been like Dylan, at that age. Before he’d gotten into trouble. She was more curious about that now than ever. She wanted to know what had sent him down that bad path he’d mentioned,

      “We’ll see what I find out tomorrow.”

      He rose and began to walk, the rest of the flyers in hand, pausing here and there to put one up as she pointed out likely spots where the most kids would see them.

      “You don’t mind dealing with other kids, just to get to Dylan?” she asked when he’d posted one outside the science lab.

      He shrugged. “I’ll be nervous, but it’ll be good practice for me. We had a slow summer—which is good news, considering what we do—and I kind of slacked off.”

      “I’m almost afraid to ask what a busy summer would be.”

      He grinned. And again her stomach took that tumble. “Let’s see...last summer we had a decade-old missing-person case and what turned into a hostage situation. Then a kidnapping. That was before the whole ‘take down the state government’ thing.”

      She’d known some of this, from Emily, but the scope of what Foxworth did was boggling. But she couldn’t help smiling back at his grin. “Foxworth must really be something.”

      “We are. Champion of lost causes, people in the right and the truth.”

      He said it laughingly but with pride, as well. A well-deserved pride, from what she’d seen and heard so far.

      “Sounds like a great job.”

      “Saved my life,” Liam said, and there was nothing but sincerity in his voice then.

      “But...kidnappings and hostages? That sounds dangerous.”

      “We’re trained for that—Quinn sees to it—although I needed more than the others. They’re mostly ex-military and I was just a borderline computer geek who happened to like to track and hunt.”

      “Seems there’d be some overlap there.”

      The grin again. Good grief, stomach, settle down, she ordered as she posted a final flyer on a board outside the library, where regular school notices were always placed.

      “Some. Quinn took care of the gaps, although I felt a bit out of place at first. But Quinn made me see we all have our specialties.”

      “Like computers and tracking?”

      He nodded. “Quinn’s the decision guy, obviously. Hayley provides the insight into motivation and subtext. She’s amazing with people. Teague’s a pilot and tactician of sorts. Rafe...” His voice trailed off, and the slightest of furrows creased his brow. “Well, Rafe is Rafe.”

      Whoever Rafe was, Liam was worried about him, she thought. But he was clearly not inclined to go into it now, because he went on quickly.

      “And Cutter, of course. He’s the one who bonds us all together. He belongs to all of us, as much as any one dog can.”

      “That’s sweet,” she said.

      “And he’s saved us all, at one time or another. If we’re smart enough to listen to him.”

      The dog gave a soft whuff, as if reminding Liam they should listen to him all the time. Ria couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “He’s really quite expressive, isn’t he?”

      “He gets his point across,” he agreed, but he seemed to be avoiding looking at her now. She wondered if he was regretting having said so much, although to her it didn’t seem as if he’d given away much that was personal.

      Cutter whuffed again, this time as he rose up to put his front paws on the school bulletin board. He nosed at another flyer, a slick one for a new restaurant in the picturesque little town on the bay at the bottom of the hill. Ria hadn’t been there yet, but she’d heard from various students that they had some seriously good burgers and an outrageous selection of fries with various toppings that made a meal in themselves and were cheap enough to tempt students with sometimes strapped finances.

      She heard a faint sound, realized that, as Liam had looked at the menu that had Cutter’s attention, his stomach had growled.

      “Skip breakfast?” she asked with a smile.

      “And lunch,” he muttered.

      “I’ve heard they’re good.” She kept her tone neutral, nonsuggestive. His stomach made a more insistent sound. He gave her a quick flick of a glance.

      “You haven’t been there?”

      “Not yet.”

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