Checkmate, Hurley thought to himself. I’m stuck with this puke. At least for a few days until I can figure out how to make him quit. “Fine,” he said with a defeated tone. “But no special favors. He pulls his weight just like everyone else or he’s gone.”

“I don’t expect any favors, but” Kennedy said, pointing a finger at his face, “I am going to be very upset if I find out you singled him out and gave him some of your famous extra love and attention.”

Hurley digested her words and then gave her a curt nod. “Fine … I’ll do it your way, but trust me, if I so much as get a whiff of weakness—”

“I know … I know,” she said, robbing him of the final word. “You’ll make him wish he’d never met you.” Kennedy had pushed it as far as she was willing for the moment. Rapp would simply have to show the crotchety old bastard what she already knew. “I have to head over to the Farm to take care of something. I’ll be back for dinner.” She turned to head back to the car and over her shoulder she yelled, “And he’d better look no worse for the wear than the other six, or you’re going to have one very unhappy niece on your hands.”

CHAPTER 3

RAPP watched Kennedy drive away, his heavy, oversized lacrosse duffel bag hanging at his side. The scene was a bit surreal. It brought back memories of being dropped off at summer camp when he was nine and watching his mom drive off. Just like today, he had gone of his own free will, but this time there were no tears in his eyes. Back then he’d been a boy afraid of the unknown. Today he was a twenty-three-year-old man ready to take on the world.

As the car drove down the lane, Rapp could feel the weight of his decision. A door was closing. He had picked one path over another and this one was undoubtedly the one less traveled.