He’d studied that thing for weeks but never in this room. The fact it was here, now, meant Callen was moving it around, possibly getting closer to unveiling whatever the hell was in it. Beck just wanted the damn thing opened. He didn’t like mysteries. He wanted facts and clarity. He’d been bugging Leah on and off for weeks about the contents. She knew. She put the information in there and handed it to Cal with the warning to ignore it. She kept the secret. Damn, he hated secrets more than mysteries. Secrets carried with them a knowing intent by the holder to keep others in the dark. Callen, Leah . . . Sophie. Secrets choked the life out of everything. That the otherwise intelligent people in his household failed to see that kept a slow fury boiling inside of Beck all the time. “Hey.” Declan stepped into the doorway in his daily uniform of jeans, tee and heavy work boots. “I need help with the wood splitter.
