SAFE HAVENS: Shadow Masters (A Sean Havens Black Ops Novel Book 1) by J.T. Patten

again to inform her of his basic itinerary and that he was expected to be home in two days. It was the best he could do and she never challenged it. She knew her husband would pull out all the stops to get home as soon as possible.
    He asked to speak to his daughter. Although she was sitting in the other room just socializing on her computer, his only child refused to talk to him.
    “Give Maggie her time,” Christina had told a disappointed Sean. “She has been through a lot, and in fairness to her, you were not here when she really could have used you. We have to rethink this whole travel thing while she is still with us at home. I’m not throwing this in your face. It’s just what we are dealing with.”
    “I wish I had woken her before I left. I don’t even think I kissed her goodbye.”
    “That makes two of us you neglected to kiss goodbye.”
    “Shit. Sorry. Well, at least you’re talking to me.”
    “This time. Just leave her be for now. You are making it more about you than her.”
    Sean was hurt, but understood. In truth, he really didn’t have anything to say to the poor girl. He was ashamed that he had let her down and was simply trying to extend some sort of olive branch. The travel thing came up again. He would have to make some changes again for both of his ladies. If Christina was asking this of him, he knew it was important. She was a more than fair wife and would not impose undue demands unless she really needed his help. He would oblige her request without another thought. They were a team although she shouldered the brunt of the responsibilities, and he recognized this.
    His daughter received the message loud and clear too. While she refused to get on the phone and put up her distant angry face for her mom, she was typing on her Facebook wall, “My dad is coming home tomorrow : ) I am so happy.”
    Somewhere in cyberspace, the message was received on another computer’s pop-up display. The user opened a software program with secure instant messaging capabilities. He clicked on one of the usernames and typed, “HE’S ON HIS WAY.”
    Christina had informed her husband that the police were now downplaying the threats. They believed the texts were likely just a time saver for the rapist to stall any investigation and an attempt to hush his victim. There had been no other text messages, threats, or indications of further aggression. It was an eerie but welcome calm. The police stated that they would continue the rape investigation. The local television stations even showed a three-minute feature story on the attack during the evening news with a sketch and a hotline number for any information that was potentially available on the attacker.
    Christina had said the lack of additional threats had calmed her down some and the police’s rationale of why a rapist would have made such a threat now made more sense. She told her husband that they should discuss it when he got home and to hold off on sending his own band of merry men to the house. “I don’t want a bunch of your friends here, Sean. I want you.”
    Christina loved her husband and respected his work, but he was a bit different from some of the other men that he associated with. She had heard that those sorts of men were called “rough men” in some circles. Not her circles. But it made sense. Most of the guys were not big muscular Stallone or Schwarzenegger types. They are more like that Jason Statham guy, she’d think to herself. They were nice, quiet, and good looking, but they had an edge. A rough edge specifically.
    They were respectful to her but struck her as having a certain indiscernible look. A look about them and a way they would actually look at her. The look was not an uncomfortable sexual look like one she would receive from admiring eyes on the street. These men were looking at her or rather inside of her with more of an introspective probing. Sometimes she felt as though they were cyborgs constantly scanning, assessing,