Page 46 of Angel's Share

“Friend?” Jamie speculated while they waited.

Aidan tilted his head, as if considering his options. “More than, maybe? A boyfriend?”

“Try family,” Rick said. “He wasn’t a match to anyone in the system, but when I ran him against Michael, he was a match on the nose, eyes, and dimpled chin.”

“But Michael doesn’t have kids,” Aidan said. “Neither did Arthur.”

“What about other siblings?” Jamie asked. “Kids, maybe?”

Aidan shook his head. “No other siblings.”

“I’ve got a name,” Matt said. “Fuck.”

Jamie shifted forward in his seat, same as Aidan beside him. “What is it?” Jamie asked.

“William Arthur Dunlap.”

Aidan moved to shoot out of his seat, but Jamie threw out an arm, holding him in place. “Don’t draw attention,” he said. “He’s not going anywhere, and we’ve got him covered. Let me help Rick dig and try to confirm it.” Trusting Aidan to see reason, he withdrew his arm so he could have both hands to type as fast as he could on his phone, running every search he could think of on William Arthur Dunlap.

Beside him, Aidan propped his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face. “How did we miss this? Is he actually Arthur’s son?”

“There’s no record of kids in Arty’s existing Bureau file,” Berat said. “Or in the one Sutton pulled together. When I got roped into this, I read through everything. It’s not in there.”

“But between the resemblance, his familiarity with Michael, and the middle name… Fuck. Angel was supposed to meet Arty. That part was the truth.” His words grew thready as he continued to speak. “It was just the wrong Arty. His son. Fuck.”

Jamie spared a hand to run over his shoulders. “Breathe, Irish.”

“We were the missing link. Me and Tom. It’s revenge. Just not the revenge we thought.”

“You take his father,” Matt said. “He takes your godson.”

“Or you from your godson,” Berat offered a most unpleasant alternative. “Timing just happened to be when you were in town...”

“I’ve got his birth certificate,” Jamie said, the document loading on his screen. “Mother was Jill Dunlap. No father listed. Looks like there was a second certificate but it’s under seal. A twin that was adopted, maybe? Give me a second.” He typed faster, digging deeper, putting every hacker skill he had to use for his family, looking for that connection. When he found it, his stomach fell to the floor. It wasn’t William’s resemblance to his possible uncle that had struck Jamie as familiar.

Aidan clasped his biceps. “Jamie, what is it?”

“William’s sister is Maryanne MacIntyre.” He flipped the phone so Aidan could see the picture loading on screen. “The same Maryanne at the condo with our family.”

This time, when Aidan shot to the end of his seat and out of it, Jamie didn’t stop him. Instead, he was right on his heels. Charging for the exits and their family.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Aidan had never been so glad that he’d married someone with a lead foot as he was tonight. The escort Berat called in for them helped too, the two cruisers cutting a path with lights and sirens, cutting the time from downtown to Manhattan Beach by half.

Still not fast enough, as Aidan took the stairs to the condo two at a time, heart in his throat. Ward was waiting at the door for them. “They’re all still fine,” he said, same as he had over the phone. “All asleep. I just checked. Every five minutes like you asked.”

“Thank you,” Aidan said before sprinting inside, needing to lay eyes on them himself.

Jamie hung back, asking Ward questions like what time Maryanne had left and if he’d noticed anything off, then reporting it to Berat, Matt, and Rick, who were scattering teams to surveil William and Martino post-game. They wouldn’t be moving on anyone tonight, not until they got a better picture of the totality of what they were dealing with.

And not until Aidan saw for himself that the family he wanted to keep was safe.

The teen curled up on the sleeper sofa in the upstairs loft, Jamie’s tablet propped on his pillow, Angel having fallen asleep working on that truck.

The other teen soundly asleep in one guest bedroom, covers pulled up tight to her chin.

His childhood best friend, standing in the doorway of the other guest room, a mix of worry and hope on her face. “Is it over already?”

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