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“Who’s famous,” Hawes said. “And married to the agent in charge of the FBI’s San Francisco field office.”

“Whose family is stupid rich,” Holt added, “and has old school IRA enemies.”

The IRA shot up the shop? Wait… “Like that boat thing a few years back?”

“It’s a possibility,” Chris said. “But I think it’s unlikely.”

“Who’d the Bentley belong to?” Helena asked.

“Bill Patrick. He just sold his ranch in Paso Robles. The Bentley was a retirement present to himself. First car he’s ever owned that wasn’t a truck.”

“What about your ex?” Hawes said.

Now there was a possibility more likely than the IRA, except… “I haven’t seen Dex since last year, and why would he shoot up the shop? If he’s not gonna pay child support, I have to have the means to take care of our kids.”

“Let me rephrase,” Hawes said. “Does Dex have trouble with anyone?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Of course, Dex strikes again. Not in person, but no less damaging.

“We’re gonna need names,” Chris said.

“You know that internet meme with the guy who unfurls a scroll-length list?” Cringes greeted her all around; yeah, they all knew which one. “That’s what we’re talking about here and that’s just the people I know about.”

“Write them down,” Helena said with another gentle squeeze of her shoulders. “The sooner we figure out who did this, the sooner you can get back to fixing the princess.”

So Helena had caught her earlier choice of words. Celia, though, was stuck on the first part of Helena’s sentence. “Why can’t the police figure this out?”

“They can,” Hawes said. “But we may be able to do it faster.”

And make it go away? Like they had Dex?

“Until then,” Helena said, “get comfy. We’ve got plenty of food and plenty of room.”

“Are you sure?” She directed her question at Hawes and Holt. “Chris and Helena came up with this plan at the scene. We didn’t get a chance to ask you.”

Holt’s tired face cracked, a genuine smile peeking out. “Not gonna say no to an army of babysitters.”

Hawes slid off the arm of the chair and knelt in front of her, a hand on her knee. “We’re family, Celia, and we take care of family.”

Chapter Three

There was zero chance Celia could hear them from the main floor, but Helena waited for Holt, who was monitoring her progress onscreen, to confirm she’d reached the dining room. Given the all clear, Helena turned to her brothers and to the unpleasant truth none of them had spoken in Celia’s presence. “So, who wants to address the elephant in the room?”

Hawes didn’t hesitate; it wasn’t his way. “We might have been the target of that drive-by.”

A grim reality that had taken root in Helena’s mind as soon as she’d secured Celia’s safety. This was exactly why she’d pulled away from Celia last fall, why she’d stayed away while conducting her negotiations, and why she knew better than to go to the shop today. And yet she’d still gone, unable to resist. She’d missed the spark of attraction, the banter, the friendship, the hours spent with someone outside their world. And after months neck deep in it, she’d needed that. Desperately. But had she risked Celia’s life to get it?

“Did you pick up any tails on the way over there?” Hawes asked.

“None that I noticed.”

“Why were you at the shop anyway?” Chris said. “I tuned up the Duc last week.”

Kicking out a foot, she shoved the base of Chris’s chair, for the sass and to make room to skirt by and flop onto the couch. “Your sister is a better mechanic.”

He scoffed in mock outrage.

Hawes shoved him from the other side. “She’s right.” He moved off the arm of the chair and into the seat, crossing one leg over the other and painting on his pondering face. “You’re sure all the meetings went well?” he asked Helena.