Caught in a layover at Edmonton, Marshall paced away the endless stretch of minutes, restless for his connecting flight that had been delayed for the better part of an hour. Making the most of that wasted time, he decided to pick up the phone and start hammering heads, kicking off with Danni.

According to her, the information had been sent directly to Catherine, anonymously, and Gervais, that sanctimonious bastard, made the executive decision to run with it to CTV.

News is news, Marsh. I warned you this would happen.

And where Danni hadn't been the least bit sympathetic, Catherine was glacier cold.

"I'm not going to apologize for doing my job," she said. All cool indifference. "Eva is a goldmine. You dropped the ball and walked away. That makes her fair game, Marshall. Fair game. And now the promotion is as good as mine."

"Who's your source? Don't give me that anonymous bullshit."

"Now, now, darling. I never kiss and tell."

"This isn't funny, Catherine. You're fucking with a woman's life," he snapped, voice pinging off the walls of a quiet airport gate. "Kids! And for what? To get back at me because I didn't love you?"

"This is business. Don't flatter yourself," she quipped, but the snarling tone said he'd struck a bruised nerve.

"Catherine, I'm begging you. Stop this. You know you can."

"Sorry, darling. But the die is cast. Ta." She hung up on him and Marshall wanted to throw the stupid phone at the wall-almost did. God help him, when he landed in Toronto he was going to wring the bitch's neck in his bare god damn hands. He was going to-

Phone shrilling, he answered on a snarl. "Mouse. Just the weasel I've been trying to reach."

"Listen, son, it wasn't me," he said. "We go back, I'd never double deal on you. Never. So when I got your message, I dug around and you're gonna wanna hear what I found. The leak was an inside job, son."

As Mouse prattled off the sordid layers of filth he uncovered, Marshall stopped pacing.

"Someone handling Eva's case is behind this mess?"

"Most of the deets were black-lined, hard to make sense of. Only a badge was listed, but I sniffed through the database and got a hit. Jerry Harrows."

Marshall swore, shoved a hand through his hair. "He's an undercover operative working in Witness Protection."

Mouse whistled, long and low. "Damn, son."

"If he's the leak, then the fucking bastard is using her for bait." Because his legs weren't steady, Marshall slumped back against the wall, pressed a hand to his mouth.

"Bait for what?"

"I don't know." Cocking a wrist, he gauged the time. There should be a return flight heading back to Vancouver within the hour. Two more in the air, another stretch on the ferry, and with the time difference-if he was lucky he could make it back to Eva before nightfall.

Flagging down an airport shuttle, he dove in the back and barked directions at the irritated driver to take him to the ticketing counter.

"I'll call you when I land. Keep digging, Mouse. Find what we're missing."

#

"Okay girls. Be good for Mrs. Davies. Do as your told. Make me proud." Eva stooped to give each of them hugs and kisses, except for Hailey who only rolled her eyes and turned a cold shoulder. Still a long way off from talking to her, and that was only going to get a hell of a lot worse in a few days time.

"Go on out back, Poppa's got the water slid set up." Lottie said. The day had started thick and muggy, the air dense with humidity typical of early August.

"Hailey's supposed to head over to Claire's place after lunch to run lines," Eva said as the girls took off, bounding for the back while Hailey slumped along in silent protest.

"Thanks for this."
"Oh, please." Lottie waved. "You know where always happy to have them. Does my heart good."

And because she needed it-because after today there would never been another chance-Eva hugged her. Fast and fierce.

"I love you," Eva whispered.

Lottie chuckled. "I love you, too my dear girl. What's all this? Are you alright?"

"Fine," Eva mumbled, breaking from the embrace. "Is Jen around? I'd really like to speak with her before I leave." Those all seeing eyes narrowed. "Something flashed across Lottie's face, seeing more behind the words than Eva had intended. That this was more than a visit-but goodbye.

"I believe she's in the kitchen. Why don't you come in and-?"

"No, I shouldn't." If she walked into that home, into that familiar warmth and love, she might never find the strength to leave.

"I see." Lottie's smile dimmed with concern. "Alright. I'll get her."

It took all of a minute, but that minute was its own little circle of hell. When Jenelle reached the door, she stepped out on to the porch, and closed the door behind her for privacy.

"I want to say I'm sorry Jen," Eva said before Jenelle could open her mouth and very likely tear a strip off her. "For all of it. For everything. I overreacted, and not just yesterday, but so many times. I just-I mean I shouldn't have...but I did, and you-"

"Eva," Jenelle interrupted with a lift of her hands. "Stop pacing you're making me dizzy. Friends fight. Family fight. They get over it. I'm over it. You were in a mood, you took it out on me. I overstepped, and should have consulted you first. I'm sorry, you're sorry. You know I love you. That's the end of it."

Reaching for Eva, she took her hands, smiled. "Sisters fight, Eva. They say stupid things they don't mean, get angry and forgive each other no matter what. You...those girls, we're family. You know that, don't you?"

Tears pricked Eva's eyes, hot little needles, and she blinked them away. Nodded.

"Good. So enough with that, okay? In future, I won't make a move without consulting you, and you'll stop being a prickly pain in the ass. Deal?"

Laughing, Eva nodded again.

Jenelle's answering smile flashed, and then wavered as a thought struck. "I got so caught up the other day, I forget to tell you-we had a guy stop by the gallery looking to speak with you. Older, silver-fox type, with really dark eyes that...he wanted to discuss a commissioned piece with you but I shut him down, told him we don't do commissioned work."

Jenelle's eyes narrowed and Eva could see she warred with conflicting urges.

"I know there's something going on, something we can't talk about."

Eva bit down on her lip, wanting so desperately to open up to Jenelle. But couldn't find the words. Telling Marshall had been dangerous enough. Doing so with Jenelle

"Jen..."

"No, you don't have to tell me. It's just he gave me the creeps. Please be careful. Okay?"

#

By the time Marshall's flight landed in BC he was a frazzled wreck. Mouse had found the dirt and the whole sordid mess, shocked him numb.

Eva was a fly caught in an intricate web of a federal investigation-involving surveillance and undercover operatives, she sat at the epicenter of it all, an unsuspecting lure to draw out a paid assassin hired by Randy Kincaid through nefarious drug cartel connections.

Mouse wasn't able to get his hands on too much, the layers went deep and the tape was thick, but he found enough to know for sure that whatever the plan-it was going done, and soon.

Knowing that time was an imperative, the two hour ride on the ferry too slow, he'd secured a speedboat at the dock-some kid who was looking to hit the waves for a bit of evening fun. It had cost Marshall everything he had in his wallet, plus a four thousand dollar diving watch given to him from Danni after snagging his first major journalistic award.

As the kid punched the motor, launching out into open waters, he latched on to the side bar and went to war with his shitty phone and even shittier connection.

What was it with islands and fucking cell phones? Screaming at his, Marshall wanted to chuck it over the edge of the fucking dock after a fourth failed attempt to call the police station.

Eva had been first number he'd tried, only to discover she'd already disconnected the landline and turned off her cell. It didn't take much for him to realize that meant she was going to run. His anger paled only to the paralyzing thought that she could be in danger, or worse-dead.

The speed boat had made exceptional time, racing around to the farthest point of Haven in little under thirty minutes, bringing him in to the cove by the cabin he was renting.

The water kicked, strong and fierce, rocking the shore with strong waves.

"Here," Marshall tossed his wallet in the kids lap. "Get to a landline and call my brother, the sheriff, Ethan Davies. Tell him to come to Lavender Cottage. Potential suspect on site, armed and dangerous. Bring every badge he has on call and then some."

The kid gaped at him, nodded a springy head in understanding. Kicking on the motor he sped away from the dock like the devil himself was tearing through the water after him.

Trusting that the boy would get the job done, Marshall ran for the trail, his feet slipping on stones as he raced up the winding path, weaving through trees.

Praying with every panting breath that he wasn't too late.

#

Eva rolled a line of tape across the top of a box, sealing it shut. One more done. In five hours she'd packed up most of the bedrooms and half of the living room, focusing only on the small and necessary.

The boxes stacked around her like small pillars, swallowing up her life and all that she had hoped to have, but with every one she sealed in long strips of packing tape, a bit of her heart was equally packaged. Leaving her numb, her movements the practiced motions of muscle memory. She knew this song and dance down to the harmonies and could rehearse it in her sleep.

The furniture would have to stay, most of the girls' toys and sundries, clothes would have be whittled down to manageable scale...This was why she had always kept things light and easy. Why she didn't believe in getting attached.

Being burned meant they were likely going to face another period of sequestering, and she shuddered at them memory of that tiny, one bedroom hovel with its lumpy couch and lack of basic amenities like cable, internet or a phone, stuck out in the middle of nowhere.

Six months of staring at walls had almost driven them crazy with boredom. This time...well, this time—if they had to go through it all again, Eva would make sure they got through it. And when the time came to move on, maybe she and her girls would venture across the American border or further to Europe?

Her thoughts stilled as she lifted the body of her DSLR. Fingers stroking over the keys. Pictures from the bicentennial winked onscreen. The parade and people. Her girls. And the last had tears welling.

Marshall held her in his arms. They were on the tail-end of a laugh, sliding into a kiss. The moment was powerful. Beautiful. There was love there. Real love. And her heart broke over the loss of it. This would be the only piece of him she could take with her. And the memories. She'd hold on to those, especially in her worst moments of regret, knowing there would be many.

She'd signed paperwork to transfer solo ownership of Out of Focus to Jenelle. There were enough prints ready to go to see her in business for at least another three months. As for Lavender Cottage...well, Jerry would likely have to manage breaking the terms of agreement with Declan. Odds were whatever she'd sunk into the place she'd have to kiss goodbye, not that it mattered. What was the loss of thirty-thousand dollars in the grand scheme of things?

Sensing something was amiss, Skittles whined at her feet.

"Easy girl." Setting aside the camera, Eva stooped to gather her in a hug—because at this point she was too big to pick up, and nuzzled against that wet little nose. "You're family. Where we go, you go. Promise," she said and received a couple of soft licks to her cheek.

Jerry wasn't going to like it, but Eva didn't give a damn. Come hell or high water, she'd fight for these dogs. She'd failed her girls enough; there was no way she was going to see them wrenched away from the one good thing that had happened to them in five miserable years.

"Come on," Eva said, scratching Skittles behind the ear. "You guys can sleep upstairs tonight while I finish down here." Whistling for the dogs she led them up to Payton and Lucy's room, tucked them inside and shut the door. The pups went without a fuss. LeBron, however, had other thoughts on the matter. Grumbling and whining and woofing his displeasure. Legs locked and rigid she had to drag him into the room, sealing the door shut before he winged back out into the hall.

Day after tomorrow she'd take him over to Lottie's with some excuse after picking up the girls. Then they'd pile into the car and drive to the ferry, hours before Marshall's return. Yawning, Eva stretched her arms, rolled them in circles as she shuffled down the stairs, deep in thoughts of organization and dissemination.

Picking up the tape gun, she went back to sealing up boxes. If she could get the rest of the living room done by tonight, tomorrow she could focus on the bathroom and kitchen. Then it would be a cleaning frenzy until—

The pounding at the back door startled Eva enough to drop the tape gun. Marshall stood on the back deck, his face grim and fist raised to beat the glass. Her thoughts whirled, her blood raced, and above the chaos was the thrilling rush of joy to coincide with grief.

He wasn't supposed to be here. On a plane touching down in Toronto, but not here. Not on Haven. He'd come back.

Eva unlocked the sliding glass door. Heart in her throat. "Marshall, I can't—"

Marshall pushed inside, stalking to her front door and back, looking around as he went. Confused by his strange behaviour, Eva followed him and braced herself for a confrontation, instead when he faced her again, his expression was...relieved?

"Are the girls here?" he asked, so soft she had barely heard him.

"No, they're—"

"Don't tell me. Don't say a word. We need to leave. Now. Trust me." Taking her hand, he lead her towards the back but Eva's legs were leaden, her mind a haze.

"Marsh—"

The rest was swallowed up in a kiss. In an embrace. Arms locked around her, his hands held her close, held her tight. And his heart. Christ, it was pounding through his body, drilling straight into hers.

"You're shaking," she whispered against his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's listening," he said under his breath. "Someone's here."