Abigail looked doubtful. “Emergency fixes?”

Liza hesitated. “Soldiers get hurt sometimes.”

“Like Papa did.” Abigail lifted her chin. “He got hurt saving Mercy, because Brother DJ wanted to shoot her. Because he’s bad.”

“You’re right,” Liza agreed. “DJ is—”

“Evil,” Abigail interrupted angrily, her jaw clenched. “He is going to hell.”

Mercy blinked, taken aback at the little girl’s vehemence. “That sounds about right.”

Abigail seemed to relax at Mercy’s confirmation. “Gideon’s girlfriend took care of Papa until the para—” She pursed her lips. “What are they called again?”

“The paramedics?” Liza asked.

“Yes. Daisy made his bleeding stop until the paramedics came. That’s what Miss Irina told me. Then they put bandages on Papa and took him to the hospital. In a helicopter. Is that what you did when you were a medic?”

“Pretty much. Lots of bandaging.”

“Did you go in helicopters?”

“Sometimes. It depended on where we were and how close the enemy was.”

“Who was your enemy?”

Liza blew out a breath. “I’ll get a map and show you, okay? I’m not ignoring your question,” she said when Abigail frowned. “It will be easier to explain with a book and a map.”

“And a miracle, maybe,” Mercy muttered.

Liza had to agree. After years in the army, she knew who they’d been fighting, but that knowledge was clouded with memories of the civilians who’d been caught in the cross fire.

Women, children. Little girls who’d been Abigail’s age. Until they died. In her arms.

She swallowed hard, pushing that memory back as well. She was not going there now.

Or ever, if she had her way. Unfortunately, her subconscious didn’t play by the rules. She’d probably dream of the children tonight.

Mercy was watching her, concern in her eyes. “Are you all right, Liza?”

No, not really. “Yeah.” She turned back to Abigail. “Is that okay? Waiting till later?”

“Yes. Thank you.” The child went silent and Liza wished she’d start talking again. It was unnerving, hunkering down on the floor of an FBI SUV as a grim-faced agent drove them back to Granite Bay, where Karl and Irina lived.

In fact, they should have arrived by now.

“Agent Rodriguez?” Liza said quietly. “ETA?”

“Ten,” Rodriguez said, tone clipped. “Thought we had a tail, so I took the next exit.”

“The tail is gone?” Mercy asked.

Abigail went still on Liza’s lap, hearing the tension in their voices.

“Yes. They exited already. Just being careful, Miss Callahan.”

“Thank you,” Mercy said sincerely.

A grunt was her answer and Liza’s lips twitched unexpectedly when Abigail piped up. “You should say ‘You’re welcome,’ Agent Rodriguez. It’s not polite to say—” She imitated Rodriguez’s grunt.

Agent Rodriguez coughed, probably hiding a laugh. “You’re right, Abigail. You’re welcome, Miss Callahan.”

Liza hugged Abigail hard. “Nice job,” she whispered loudly, tickling Abigail’s ribs.

Abigail giggled and wriggled, then froze, staring at the vee of Liza’s blouse. A button had come loose, revealing more cleavage than Liza normally did.

“You have a tattoo,” Abigail said with a mix of awe and horror.