He’d stayed busy, taken care of the darkroom repairs, put up the window coverings, changed the door locks. It had been easy work for him. “I think I’m done with everything,” he said. She thrust the printed photographs at him with a thunderous look on her face. He took a quick look at the snapshots as Rachel stormed to the kitchen counter. “I know him,” Rachel said. The shots were all of Jack, the retired undercover agent. The guy he was trying to prevent from being killed. Why the hell had Jack gone sniffing around the old bait shop? If he had indeed retired, he should stay the hell away from the Suarez brothers’ hideout. “Good. If you tell me everything you know about him, it could help me determine—” “Why didn’t you tell me that Jack is involved in this—” Rachel lifted one hand off the vegetables she’d been cutting, and then waved the knife at him, “—this fiasco?” “It isn’t information I can share,” Michael said, keeping an eye on the knife. He knew full well his words would not be enough to placate her.
