“There’s got to be an easier way to consolidate all this stuff, but hell if I can think of it. It’s like having a bad casserole shoved in front of you and being forced to eat it.” Cain lifted Emma’s hand and kissed her fingers one at a time.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand that at all.”

“Think of a crappy casserole that you’re forced to eat. You have no choice, but once you’re done it makes your problems go away. If you’re forced, it’s not a matter of eating it or not, but of deciding where to start. Is it the edges first, or do you start in the middle for something different?” She licked the tip of Emma’s index finger and smiled. “It’s all about the execution, and I mean that literally.”

Emma laughed and leaned in for a kiss. “Because it’s you, baby, I totally believe you’ll figure out the edges are the best, and you’ll work your way in. I think that’s also true in so many things in life. Don’t you agree?”

“You do have a way of putting things, lass, that makes me look forward to every crappy casserole I have in my future.”

✥ ✥ ✥

Shelby sat in one of the cars they’d rented and looked through the binoculars, sweeping the fields of the Casey property within view. They’d had to trek back to the airport for another couple of vehicles so they could split up and cover more ground. There’d be no more getting close without chancing a dog bite, and Cain’s dogs meant business. Dylan was still complaining about the death of her favorite jeans.

“See anything?” Joe asked when she answered her phone. They were taking the afternoon and early evening shift. Dylan and their other backup would come on after that so they could run to the airport in the morning to pick up Lionel and Claire. If anyone could figure out how to monitor what they needed from a distance, it would be those two.

“I see cows and a dog sitting under a tree as if daring me to step in the yard so we can play.” The dog suddenly stood and almost came to attention, and it made her look in the direction he was facing. The helicopter made her heart race as it flew over her car, low enough to make the windows rattle. “I have incoming.”

“Incoming what?” Joe asked with a laugh as if she’d lost her mind. “If it’s coffee, have them fly over here and not forget the sweetener.” He stopped talking and it sounded like tapping from his end. “You think that’s our target?”