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T he next evening, Noah walked around the bar to help Hiram when a big group came into The Trailhead for dinner. He spotted a man sitting in a window booth at The Rodeo across the street. Something about him looked familiar, so Noah paused and studied him for a moment. The guy turned toward The Trailhead, and Noah ducked away from the window. But he’d recognized the guy.

Damn it! Troy Murray was back in town. And the fact that he hadn’t come into The Trailhead? Was he trying to make sure no one knew he was in town?

More important, did he know Nick was living in Helena? Or was he just searching for him?

Noah had no idea, but they were gonna assume that Nick was in trouble. He hurried into the kitchen, where Celia was finishing up, and said, “I need Nick’s phone number.”

She recited it, then asked, “How come?”

Noah took a deep breath. “Don’t lose your shit, but Troy Murray is back. He’s sitting in a window booth at The Rodeo, watching The Trailhead. I need to tell Nick to come in the back door tonight. Don’t know if Murray’s seen him yet, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Celia clamped her fingers around his wrist. “Troy Murray? One of the guys who tried to kill me is here in Helena?”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “When he was here a few weeks ago, he came into The Trailhead. Flashed a picture of Nick, said he was looking for him. We didn’t tell him anything, and he left a few days later. Not sure why he’s back, but I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like it either,” Celia said. Her face was pale, and she was breathing too fast.

“Nick and I have you covered,” Noah said, gripping her hand. “We’re not going to let that loser get anywhere near you.” He studied her for a long moment, then said, “I’m gonna call Nick right now. Tell him about Murray and make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

Celia grabbed his wrist. “Could Murray possibly know Nick’s here?”

“No idea, Cece. But we’re gonna assume that he does. Figure out a strategy to deal with him.”

She drew in a shuddering breath. “Tell me what to do. How I can help.”

“We’ll do this one step at a time,” Noah said. “Right now, I’m gonna tell him to stay inside his apartment until I get there. I have a little errand I want to do first. Then I’ll walk Nick back here. We’ll come in and go out through the back door. I’ll walk you both home tonight. Nick and I will figure out the next steps together.”

Celia wrapped her arms around herself, shivering with fear. “Do you think Murray saw the local paper?” she asked.

He studied her for a moment, then shook his head. “Troy Murray didn’t strike me as the literary type. He’s watching The Trailhead, which tells me he thinks Nick hangs out here. No reason he’d pick up a local paper. He wouldn’t think it’d tell him anything he wanted to know.”

“You think he’s seen me already?” she asked, fear twisting her belly.

“No idea,” Noah said. “But we’re going to assume he has and act accordingly.”

Celia took a shuddering breath. Blew it out. “Okay,” she whispered.

Noah put his hand on her shoulder. “Have something to eat, Celia. Then help Anne with dinner service. Keep yourself busy and keep your mind off Troy Murray.”

Celia nodded her head. “Yeah. That’s good advice. I’ll stay in the kitchen in case Murray comes in.”

“Good idea,” Noah said. “Go tell Anne what’s going on. I’ll see you later.” He put his hand on her arm. “We’re gonna take care of this situation,” he said. “Me and Nick and Hiram. No one’s going to hurt you or Anne.”

Celia swallowed and nodded. “Okay, Noah. I trust you. I know you guys will keep all of us safe. And you’re right. I need to do something. I can’t sit here all evening obsessing about Troy Murray.”

“Good.” He touched her arm. “Get busy in the kitchen and I’ll take care of getting Nick here safely.”

“Okay.” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Thanks, Noah.”

Noah waited until Celia was in the kitchen, helping Anne. Then he went out to his car. Opened the glove box and found the box of trackers he kept there. You never knew when you’d need to keep track of a car. He slid two of the small devices into his pocket, then went back into the bar. Waited until Hiram wasn’t busy, then told him what was going on.

“Holy shit, Noah. Murray’s back?”

“Yeah, and I bet he’s looking for Nick. Wouldn’t be looking for Celia, because he thinks she’s dead.” He explained what he was going to do, and when Hiram nodded, he slipped out the back door. Hurried over to the Excelsior Hotel and found Murray’s car, parked on the top level. Just like he’d done before.

He planted the tracking devices, putting one on each side of the car, in the wheel wells of the rear tires. That way, if one of them fell off, he’d still be able to track Murray.

Then he went to Nick and Celia’s apartment and rang the buzzer. Nick’s voice came over the speaker. “Yes?”

“It’s Noah. Come on down.”

Nick emerged from his apartment, carrying a briefcase, and ran down the stairs. Noah jerked his head toward the leather bag. “What’s that for?”

“I have to work for a few more hours,” he said. “I can do it at The Trailhead, but I can’t leave my clients hanging.”

“Okay,” Noah said. “We’re gonna go the back way. Go in through the back door. I’m assuming Murray is still watching the front door.”

“Good plan,” Nick said.

Noah didn’t see any signs of nerves. Or fear. He noticed a bulge on Nick’s left side. “You carrying?” he asked.

“Damn right I am,” Nick answered. “Troy Murray’s one of the guys who took Celia into the desert to kill her. I’m not taking any chances with her.”

“Good. Keep that gun with you whenever you leave your apartment. In fact, it’s probably a good idea to wear it in your apartment, too.”

“I have good locks on my door,” Nick said.

Noah shook his head. “Yeah, you do. But you’ve got a flimsy door. Anyone could kick that door down and walk into your place.”

Nick stared at him for a long moment. Then he touched the gun in his pocket. “I’ll get a better door. I’m not taking any chances with Celia.”

“Great idea,” Noah said. “I’ll help you install it.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Noah laughed. “Look at us. Working together.”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “Who woulda thought it?”

Noah shook his head. “I’ve seen the way you look at Celia. I’m guessing we’re gonna be related before too long.”

Nick was shaking his head before Noah stopped talking. “Not until my father’s locked up. I’m not gonna risk her like that.”

“You ask her about that?” Noah asked.

“Hell, no.” Nick shook his head. “She’d kick my ass from one side of the room to the other if I told her I was trying to keep her safe.”

Noah sighed. “You’re right about that. She and her sister have a lot in common.”

* * *

Murray saw the signs for the local Farmer’s Market near the park the next day, so he wandered over to it. The chef from The Trailhead might come to the Farmer’s Market to buy produce. Seemed like something fancy chefs would do. He could follow her home so he knew where she lived. You never knew when you’d have to interrogate someone.

He stood near some trees on the edges of the crowd, scanning faces as they walked through the parking lot where the Farmer’s Market had set up. He spotted a pair of women with blond hair, carrying baskets as they wandered from booth to booth, stopping occasionally to buy something.

When they turned to walk down the other side of the market, Murray sucked in a breath. The women looked almost identical. And they both looked like Celia.

Which was impossible, since Celia was dead.

He edged behind a tree, where he could watch them but stay hidden. He didn’t want them to realize he was here. He had no idea how much Celia had told her sisters about Bobby Doyle and cooking for him, but he didn’t want to take any chances. They wouldn’t know who he was, of course, but why put his face in their heads?

They wandered through the market for another half-hour, buying produce and putting it in their baskets. Finally they headed out of the park. From the direction they were walking, he assumed they were going back to The Trailhead.

As soon as they were out of sight, he hurried away from the Farmer’s Market and went in search of the local library. When he found it, he got on a computer and googled Celia Remington. He found a few articles about her, one with a picture. One of the articles mentioned her sister, Anne, who was also a chef.

An hour of research unearthed the fact that the sisters had grown up in Chicago and both their parents were dead. Celia was the younger of the two. Her sister was a few years older.

The two sisters were written up in several articles because they’d gone to an elite cooking school and worked in fancy restaurants.

Troy stared at the most recent article, which mentioned that they didn’t have any other siblings.

He leaned back in his chair. Holy shit! Celia was alive. How could that be? He’d seen her die. Helped to bury her. She’d definitely been dead.

Or had she just been unconscious?

He squirmed in his chair. No way would he tell Bobby Doyle to his face that Celia was still alive. He was pretty sure that Bobby would pull out his gun and kill him on the spot.

But maybe he could leverage his knowledge to get a big payoff from Bobby. He’d tell him he knew where Nick was. And that he’d found something really interesting. Tell him to put some money in an account for him. How much should he ask for? Three hundred thousand? More?

This was huge news. Not only had he found Nick, but Celia was alive. Bobby would pay a lot of money for that information.

Of course, he’d have to disappear before Bobby got to Helena. Because if Bobby found out that Celia was still alive, Murray was a dead man.

So he’d spend the day thinking about how much money to ask for. Once he decided, he’d give Bobby a call.

* * *

Murray was back in the same booth at The Rodeo that evening, watching The Trailhead. He saw the old guy moving around behind the bar. Didn’t see the big SEAL, or either of the women. Or Nick. But the window was angled. If they were sitting at the bar, they were out of sight.

A boring four hours went by, people coming and going from The Trailhead, but no sign of Nicky. Maybe the big SEAL or the old guy had spotted him in the Rodeo’s window and warned Nicky to stay away.

Murray smiled to himself. Didn’t matter. He knew where Nicky lived. He could get to him anytime.

But he wasn’t gonna touch Nicky. He’d leave him for his father. Bobby was enraged that Nick had given him a proverbial finger by leaving in the middle of the night. Even angrier that he hadn’t been able to find any trace of him. Troy avoided any mention of Nick’s name, because it set Bobby into a fury. Bobby hated that he’d lost control of Nicky. That would make him look bad to the other mob families in Vegas. Just like with Robert -- you can’t control your kid? That lost you a lot of status with the other families. And Bobby was all about status. His standing. Everyone in the mob families knew what had happened with Robert. Losing control of his other son? A very bad look, especially after what had happened with Robert. Bobby knew people would talk, and that enraged him.

Murray had decided to ask Bobby for a half million bucks. That would set him up for the rest of his life. Bobby would be pissed as all hell. He might refuse, but if he did, he’d never know that Celia was still alive.

He glanced around his table at The Rodeo. There were no customers anywhere near him. A band was playing in the other room, and everyone was sitting over there. Listening to the music. Dancing. This was the perfect time to call Bobby.

So he pulled out his phone and called Doyle’s number. A few moments later, Bobby answered. “Doyle.”

“Hey, Bobby, Troy Murray here.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Bobby demanded.

“Looking for Nicky, like you told me to do.”

“Did you find him?”

“I did. He’s in Helena, Montana. Living there. He’s got himself an apartment.”

“You gonna give me his address?” Bobby demanded.

“I am. That’s free.” He rattled off a random address, and he heard the scratch of a pen on paper. Bobby was writing it down.

After a moment, he said, “You got something else that’s not free?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s big. But it’s gonna cost you, Mr. Doyle.”

Dead silence. Finally Bobby said, “You tryin’ to squeeze me, Murray?” His voice was icy. The kind of cold that would send shivers through him if he was standing in front of Bobby. But he wasn’t. He was several hundred miles away.

“Nope. I’m just asking to be paid for valuable information that you’ll want.”

He could hear Bobby breathing heavily, like he always did when he was pissed off and getting angrier. “Bottom line, Murray?” he finally asked.

“This is golden. Worth every penny of a half million bucks. Put it in my account. As soon as I verify it’s there, I’ll call you and give you the information.”

“You want a half a mill for doing your job?” Bobby’s voice rose until Murray had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Fuck you. You don’t work for me anymore, Murray.”

“Okay. Then I won’t give you Nicky’s real address, either. You can come here and hunt him down yourself.”

He hung up but didn’t put the phone back in his pocket. He knew Bobby too well.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Bobby called back. “I put the money in your account, asshole. Now tell me Nick’s address.”

“I’ll call you back as soon as I verify the money’s there,” Murray said. He disconnected before Bobby could answer.

Using his phone, he checked the balance in his account. Saw that Bobby had indeed put a half-million bucks there. He transferred it to an account he’d set up in a San Francisco bank, and as soon as he got the confirmation, he called Bobby back.

“Okay, all good. Thanks, boss. Here’s your freebie.” He rattled off Nick’s address. “The apartment is above a sporting goods store. The entrance is off to the right of the store. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”

“You gave me a fake address the first time?” Bobby’s voice was low. An icy finger down Murray’s spine would have been warmer than Bobby’s voice.

“Yeah, but this is the real one. I promise. Now here’s what you paid for.” He drew a deep breath, knowing that Bobby was gonna lose his shit. “Celia is still alive. I saw her with Nick. I think she’s living with him.”

Complete silence on the line. Finally Bobby said, “What the hell do you mean, Celia’s alive?”

“Exactly what I said. Celia’s alive. She didn’t die.”

“How can she be alive? Fingers told me he shot her in the head and in the chest.”

“That’s exactly what he did. But she moved just as he shot her in the head. He hit her, but it might have been a surface wound. Bled like hell, so I couldn’t tell. Fingers put another one in her chest to make sure. Only thing that makes sense is she was wearing a vest.”

“You’re sure it was Celia you saw today? Not someone who looked like her?”

“Positive,” Murray assured him. “I got a good look at her. She was at the Farmer’s Market, buying shit for the restaurant. Then I did some research. No question it’s Celia.”

A long silence filled the line. “Fuck it,” Doyle muttered. “You’re gonna be there to help me with this, aren’t you, Murray?”

“’Course I am, Mr. Doyle. I’m staying at the Excelsior Hotel. Classy place. You’ll like it.”

“Okay. I’ll drive down tomorrow morning. I’ll see you when I get there.”

“You will, Mr. Doyle.” He hung up the phone. Thought about warning Nicky that his father was coming -- he might be able to get more cash from the kid. He was probably rolling in it.

But that was risky. That big SEAL and the bartender looked tough. Like they could take him out without breaking a sweat. So he’d just head back to the Excelsior Hotel, pack his bag and get ready to leave first thing in the morning. It’d take most of the day for Bobby to drive to Helena. By the time Doyle got here tomorrow, he’d be in California.

Bobby was gonna have to deal with Nicky and Celia by himself. But how hard could it be -- a guy who’d never fired a gun, and a girl. Even though he hadn’t taken care of his own hits in a long time, Bobby Doyle should be able to handle that.