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C elia studied Nick as he watched her. She saw no guile in his expression. No attempt to hide the truth. If she had to bet, she’d say he was telling her the truth.

But why had he changed his mind? Why had he gone from insisting the FBI had to know about her to agreeing not to mention her? That was the all-important question, and if she asked him why he’d changed his mind, she was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t get a straight answer from Nick.

“Let’s go sit at the bar with Anne, Noah and Hiram,” she said. “That’s what I always do.”

Celia saw a flash of something that might have been pleasure in Nick’s eyes. Then he blinked, and the pleasure was gone. “I… ah… don’t think that’s a great idea. I’m pretty sure that having me sitting with them would put a giant damper on the conversation. I’m not Noah or Hiram’s favorite person. In fact, I’m sure I’m at the bottom of both of their lists. I don’t know about your sister, but she’s probably solidly in Noah and Hiram’s camp. If it were my sister? That’s where I’d be.”

Celia shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She slid to the end of the bench seat, but before she could stand up, Nick said, “You’re not going to stay and tell me what happened when Fingers and Murray took you out into the desert?”

Celia studied him. Could she trust him? No. Not because he just said that he wouldn’t tell the FBi about her. His word was worth nothing. “If I tell you now,” she said, “what’s my guarantee that you wouldn’t just pass that information on to the FBI?”

He frowned at her. “I promised that I wouldn’t.”

“How much do you think your promises are worth, Nick?” She drew in a ragged breath. She wanted to believe him. She really did. But her life depended on that. And when push came to shove, she really didn’t know Nick Doyle at all.

“When I worked for your father, I thought you were a stand-up guy. That you’d keep your word.” She shrugged. “Maybe you are. But you’re also your father’s son. And I know how badly you want him locked up. How do I know you’re not as ruthless as he is?”

He drew a deep, ragged breath. “You don’t,” he said after a long minute. “You know nothing about me, really.” He held her gaze, and she saw nothing hidden in those blue eyes. “When you worked for my father, I saw the way you looked at me when you knew no one was looking. I saw want. Desire. Yearning. And I’m sure you saw the way I looked at you when no one else was around. Positive you saw the same things in my eyes. But you don’t know me well enough to trust me. I get it. And how do I know I can trust you? You could call my father’s house and tell him exactly where I am. I’d never see Murray coming.”

Celia sucked in a breath. “You think I’d do that? That I’d sentence you to death?”

He shrugged. “No, I don’t think you’d do that. But you could . I think we have an impasse here, Celia. I could get you killed. You could get me killed. We need to figure out a way around that dilemma.”

She hadn’t taken her eyes off Nick, and she nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s ugly. Dangerous for both of us. Let me know if you come up with a solution.”

He nodded. “I’ll be thinking about it. You do the same. If either of us comes up with a solution, we’ll talk again.”

Celia let her gaze roam over his face. His body. She’d wanted Nick since the day she started cooking for his father. But even then, she’d known it was lust. Desire. Not enough to build a relationship on. And she’d known it could never happen.

Regret was a sharp arrow stabbing into her chest. “Okay, Nick. I will. You do the same.” She slid out of the booth. “You’re still welcome to join us at the bar,” she said.

He shook his head. “Thanks. I’d like to do that, but I won’t. It would make things really awkward for everyone.” He smiled, but it looked strained. “I’ll talk to you soon, I hope, if one of us thinks of a solution.”

Celia nodded. “I’ll let you know if I come up with anything. You wanna give me your phone number?”

He studied her for a long moment. “Sure,” he finally said. He rattled it off, and she typed it into her phone. “You gonna give me yours?”

She nodded and recited her number. Watched him enter it. Then he drew a deep breath. “I’ll see you around, Celia.”

“Yeah. See you, Nick.”

She watched him walk up to the bar. Say goodbye to Hiram, Noah and Anne. Whatever else she could say about him, he had good manners. He must have learned that from his mother. After working for Bobby Doyle for six months, Celia was pretty sure Nick’s father didn’t know what good manners were. He only knew what he wanted, and how to get it.

When the door had closed behind Nick, Celia walked slowly toward the bar. Slid onto the seat she always took after work. Without asking, Hiram drew her another glass of the house red. Set it in front of her.

Anne reached out and took her hand. Squeezed it, and Celia squeezed back. Anne didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Celia knew her sister understood what she was feeling.

Hiram asked, “You and Baby Doyle hash things out?”

Celia shrugged. “We pretty much agreed that we’re at an impasse. Mutually assured destruction. He betrays me? I tell Murray where to find him. I betray him? He tells the FBI all about me.”

“That bastard!” Nick slammed his almost-empty glass onto the bar. He began to stand, and Celia reached around Anne to grab his wrist.

“Cut it out, Noah,” she said, tightening her grip on him. “He’s not going to betray me, and I’m not going to betray him. But we had to acknowledge that we both had weapons to use. He’s not talking about me to the FBI, and I’m not telling Murray where Nick lives. Okay? Can you cool your jets now?”

Noah scowled at her. “You sure he’s not going to tell the FBI about you, Celia?”

“I’m positive, because you’re going to be with him when he talks to them.”

“What the hell?” Noah frowned. “You two negotiated that?”

“No,” Celia said. “He offered, and I took him up on it.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “He has some damn incriminating pictures and videos.” She swallowed hard, still unable to understand how a parent could do what Bobby Doyle had done. “He’s going to give them to the FBI. If they’re as horrible as he said they were, Bobby Doyle will be locked up for the rest of his miserable life.”

“Does Baby Doyle know his father will have a lot of enemies in prison? And that eventually one of them will get to him? Just like someone got to Fingers?” Noah asked.

Celia shrugged. “We didn’t discuss that. But Nick’s a smart guy. I’m sure he can put two and two together.”

“And he doesn’t care?” Anne asked, her voice incredulous.

Celia swiveled around to look at her sister. “Bobby Doyle killed his son Robert,” she said. “When Nick moved to Helena, he took the pictures and videos of Fingers beating Robert to death in an alley, along with the tape where Bobby orders Fingers to do it.” She swallowed. “According to Nick, Robert had become a liability. He’d killed the son of another mobster, and Bobby knew he had no choice. If he didn’t kill Robert, the other mobster would. And then he’d take Bobby out.”

“Oh, my God,” Anne said, and Celia heard the horror in her voice.

“Yeah. It’s about as ugly as it gets.”

In the silence, Hiram looked at all of them. “Doyle’s son has a lot on his shoulders,” he finally said. “No wonder he was so hot to tell the FBI what happened to you, Celia.” He nodded at her. “He wants his father to pay.”

“Yeah, he does,” Celia said. “And I don’t blame him. I want Bobby Doyle to pay for what he tried to do to me, too. But prison is prison. And I’m guessing the tapes that Nick has will do the job of putting him there.” She shrugged. “Bobby might not even have a trial. He might plead guilty in exchange for protective custody.”

“If he’s smart, that’s what he’d do,” said Noah. He shook his head. “Even that might not be enough. Every mob family in the country has people in the FBI on their payroll.” He shrugged. “Fact of life. The FBI knows it, too. They try to identify the agents and control the damage. But, sooner or later, even if Doyle’s in protective custody, someone will kill him.”

“No great loss,” Hiram growled.

Noah shook his head. “Maybe not, but no one has the right to anoint themself judge, jury and executioner,” he said. “Even for someone as despicable as Bobby Doyle.”

Celia stared into the dark red depths of her wine. “Nick asked me why I’d gone to work for his father.”

Anne tucked her hand over Celia’s. “Did you tell him it was none of his damn business?”

Celia gave her sister a half-smile. “No. I told him the truth.”

Anne’s eyes widened. “About the Las Vegas gaming commission?” she asked, her voice low. Shocked.

“No. I told him about the salary and bonus Bobby Doyle paid me. The bonus for leaving the Amalfi family. And the doubling of my salary that I forced Bobby to pay me.”

Anne frowned. “He didn’t resent you for that?”

“Hell, no,” Celia said. “I think he respected me for it. That I would stand up for myself. Demand what I was worth.”

Celia frowned. “But I still have all the tapes that I made for the Nevada Gaming Commission. I need to get those to them so I can collect the money they promised me.”

“Can you mail them in?” Anne asked.

“Hell, no,” Celia said immediately. “I need to hand them over personally. Get a receipt. And a check. If I mail them, it’d be too easy to say they never got them. The money they pay me will put us over the top for the restaurant we want to open.”

Anne’s hand tightened on hers. “Can’t do that now,” she said quietly. “You’d be too exposed. Too vulnerable. Especially if we opened that restaurant in Las Vegas. Sooner or later, Bobby Doyle would find out. And he’d know you were still alive.”

Celia swallowed. She knew that as well as Annie did. “I’ll think of something,” she muttered. “But before I do that, I have to figure out how to get the tapes to the gaming commission.”

“Can I do it for you?” Anne asked.

Celia thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. The tapes have to come from me. I was the one working in Bobby’s house. If someone else handed them the tapes, I’m afraid the commission would say they wouldn’t know for sure if they were real.”

“That’s a crock of bull,” Anne said. “They’d recognize Bobby’s voice.”

“I’m sure they would,” Celia said with a shrug. “But my instincts tell me they’d be looking for any excuse to wiggle out of paying me what they agreed to.”

“They probably think you’re dead,” Noah said. “Since that’s what everyone’s been told.”

“They probably do,” Celia said. “But I have a written contract. So they can’t worm their way out of paying me.”

Anne clamped her fingers around Celia’s wrist. “I’ll go to Vegas and collect your money,” she said. “I’ll say they were in the box of your possessions I got after you died. That Bobby Doyle’s housekeeper cleaned out your room, put your things in a box and sent it to me. When I found the tapes, I listened to them. Found the contract you’d signed with the gaming commission.”

“Good. It should be in that box of my possessions.” Celia said.

“Where would they have sent that box?” Anne asked.

“To your old address,” Celia said slowly. “That’s the emergency contact I gave them.”

“So you think it’s sitting outside the door of my old apartment?” Anne asked.

Celia shook her head. “Larry and Brett took it in. They said something to me at your wedding. I told them to send it to The Trailhead.”

“It’s been over three weeks since the wedding,” Anne said. “But no box.”

“That’s because Larry and Brett were going to Glacier National Park after the wedding,” she said. “They’d always wanted to see it, so they were going to check it out as long as they were out here. Said they were going to Yellowstone after Glacier. They’ll send it when they get home.”

“Okay,” Anne said slowly. “Good to know. Once it gets here, I’ll drive down to Vegas and collect your money. No one has to know you’re still alive. I’ll have them make the check out to me, since I’m your only heir.”

Anne grabbed her hand. “Do you have a will? And would there be a copy in that box?”

Celia nodded. “Yes. I had it drawn up after I made the deal with the gaming commission. I took the agreement I signed with the commission with me when I left, but my will should be in that box.”

“Great,” Anne said. “As soon as it arrives, I’ll drive down to Vegas and collect your money.”

“Don’t you mean we’ll drive to Vegas and collect Celia’s money?” Noah said.

Anne gave him an innocent look. “Isn’t that what I said?”

Noah’s lips twitched. “I’m sure it was a slip of your tongue,” he said. “Because no way are you going to Vegas by yourself. Especially since you and Celia could almost be twins.”

Anne twined her fingers with Noah’s. “No one will be looking for Celia,” she said. “And how tough will it be? We stay outside of Vegas, go into the city and pick up her check, then leave immediately. Come straight back here. Piece of cake.”

Noah scowled. “Famous last words.”