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A few days later, all of Celia’s meager belongings were stowed in the apartment above the restaurant. She’d been right that Sylvie was going to be a quick study -- after one breakfast and one dinner, Celia had told both Sylvie and Mary that Sylvie knew what she was doing and was good to cook by herself. After hugs and tears from Mary, Celia prepared to leave the shelter for the last time. She put her hand on Mary’s arm and said, “Come down to The Trailhead. Any evening. We always have a drink after the restaurant closes.”

Glancing over her shoulder, presumably to make sure Sylvie couldn’t hear her, Mary said, “I’m gonna give it a few nights before I leave Sylvie here by herself. Let her get settled in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it Mary.” She smiled. “I was glad you were here the first few nights I slept in that room. I…” She began to tell Mary that she’d feared someone was hunting her but caught herself just in time. “It’s always hard to get used to a new place,” she said instead. “Stay here with Sylvie until you’re sure she’s okay on her own.”

Mary smiled at her. “We’re on the same page. I’d already decided that.”

Giving Mary one last hug -- she’d been the person who’d provided Celia with shelter when she arrived in Helena with basically nothing. Celia would always be grateful to her.

Finally Celia turned to Sylvie. “After cooking both breakfast and dinner with you, I know you’re going to do a great job for all the people who stay here. And if you ever have any questions about cooking or… or anything, come down to The Trailhead and ask me. Or my sister Anne. We’ve both been cooking in restaurants for a long time.”

Sylvie gave her a shy smile. “Thanks, Celia. I’ll do that.”

Celia smiled back. “You’re welcome anytime.”

“I appreciate all your advice,” Sylvie said, staring at the floor. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the room Celia had been staying in and smiled. “I’m really excited about doing this for Mary and all the people who stay here. And as a bonus, this is the first time in my life that I’ve had my own room. I’m going to enjoy everything about this shelter.”

“Have fun. And come to The Trailhead if you have any questions.”

“I will,” Sylvie promised.

With one last hug for Mary, Celia walked out of the shelter. She’d still be cooking and was excited that it would be with her sister at The Trailhead.

As she punched in the code for the back door of The Trailhead, she heard Hiram moving around in the next room. Getting ready for lunch, she assumed. Not nearly as many people drank alcohol at lunch, because a lot of them had to go back to work.

She’d lingered a little too long at the shelter, saying goodbye to Mary and Sylvie, so she focused on her job instead of paying attention to Hiram and what he was doing. The lunch dishes didn’t change like the dinner meals did, so she didn’t need as much prep time. Once she made sure she had enough of the staples, she began organizing her work surface and got busy setting out what she’d need.

Three hours later, the last patron left the bar and Hiram stuck his head into the kitchen. “Nice work today, Celia,” he said. “You got all the meals out on time, and they all looked great.” He smiled. “Got a lot of compliments on your food, too. You’re gonna fit in here just fine.”

Celia smiled. “Thanks, Hiram. Always good to hear that people liked the food.”

“Go on upstairs and take it easy for an hour or two before you start working on dinner. This is gonna be a long day for you, after working at the shelter for breakfast, then doing lunch and dinner here.”

Celia shrugged. “Annie did it. I can, too. And it’s only until she gets back from Hawaii.”

“You’re right. So take breaks when you can. I’ll see you at three or so to start working on dinner.”

“I’ll be here, Hiram.”

“I know you will, Celia. You’re just as conscientious and hard-working as your sister. See you in a few hours.”

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me for anything.”

* * *

Hiram watched Celia exit the kitchen, then heard her walking up the stairs. It’d be easier for both Celia and Anne once Anne and Noah were back in town. But he’d watched Celia and knew she was a hard worker. And he knew she made great dishes. The food she’d prepared for Noah and Anne’s wedding had been amazing.

Hiram wandered back into the restaurant and checked all his beer taps to make sure he didn’t need to switch any of them over to a new keg. Then he checked the boxes of wine below the counter. Hefted them one at a time. Might need another box of both the red and the white. He’d been selling a lot of both of them, and without Noah here to keep an eye on things, he didn’t want to leave the bar when it was busy to pull another box of wine out of the kitchen.

He’d just slid the first box into place when the door creaked open. He hoped it wasn’t anyone who wanted a meal, because he knew anything he made wouldn’t be as good as Celia could make. And he didn’t want to call Celia back down here to fix a meal.

When he looked at the entrance, his hands froze on the second box of wine. Nick Doyle. What was that waste of skin doing here? After Celia told him what Nick’d said, Hiram had hoped he’d never see him again.

But the guy slid onto a stool like he’d never threatened Celia’s security. Hiram took his time walking over to the guy and said, “What can I get you?”

Doyle pulled a menu out of its holder and scanned it. “How about a Moose Drool IPA?”

“You got it,” Hiram said. He drew a mug of the beer and set it on a coaster in front of Doyle. “Anything else I can get you?”

Doyle said, “Yeah. Is Celia busy? I’d like to talk to her.”

Hiram stared at Doyle for a long moment, his jaw twitching with anger. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, coming in here and asking me to let you talk to Celia,” he finally said, rage roiling his gut. “After what you said to her the other day, I’d rather kick your ass than let you talk to Celia.” Hiram narrowed his eyes at Nick. “Might do it, too.”

Nick reared back. “Whoa. What’s that all about?”

Hiram stared at him, incredulous. “You gotta ask me that? After what you said to Celia?”

“What are you talking about?” Nick asked.

Hiram shook his head slowly at how oblivious this guy was. “Either you have a very selective memory, or you’re a complete and total asshole.” He narrowed his eyes. “Personally, I’m voting for door number two.”

Doyle was staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “Maybe you should tell me what Celia told you about our conversation.”

“Really?” Hiram asked. “You don’t remember what you talked about with her?”

Doyle frowned. “I think we talked about several things. What are you referring to?”

“If you really don’t remember how you threatened her, I guess you’re your father’s son after all.”

Doyle reared back. “Whoa. That’s a low blow.”

“From where I’m standing, it was perfectly placed.” He leaned on the bar and got right into Doyle’s space. “You told her you planned on telling the FBI about what happened to her. How your father sent her off with a couple of hitmen to be killed and buried in the desert.” He scowled at Doyle. “You don’t remember saying that? If you don’t, you might want to see a doctor. You could have early onset dementia.”

Doyle scowled at him. “Of course I remember saying that, and I’ll stand by what I said. My father needs to be locked up for the rest of his life. So he can’t hurt anyone else. And no one who works for him is going to testify against him. They’re all loyal soldiers. I was in the room when he told Fingers and Murray to take her with them on their ‘job’”.

“And I’m betting Celia told you exactly what would happen to her if you used her name. Told the FBI who she was and what happened to her.”

Noah took a drink of his beer and frowned at Hiram. “She said it would get back to my father, and he’d come after her and kill her. But the FBI is supposed to protect their witnesses. Make sure nothing happens to them.”

Hiram crossed his arms and stared at Nick, shocked at how he was focusing on nailing his father over everything else, including Celia’s safety. “So you think Celia should spend the rest of her life locked up in an FBI safe house?”

“Of course not,” Nick said. “That would be like being in prison.”

“Exactly. But if she’s not in a safe house, how is she protected?”

Doyle frowned. “Celia seems to think that my father has FBI agents on his payroll. And that they’d find out and tell him. But how can that be true? The FBI is the best of the best.”

“Really?” Hiram asked. “In your father’s line of work, I’m sure having some FBI agents on your payroll is normal. Usual. How else are you going to find out what the feds are doing? What they have on you? Where would you get advance warning that they were coming for you without informants in the Bureau?”

Nick fidgeted in his chair. “The FBI is the pinnacle of crime enforcement agencies. Why would you think any of them could be flipped?”

“Because they’re human, you idiot.” Hiram realized he’d yelled at Nick and struggled to lower his voice. “You flash a wad of money at some men and women, they’ll take it, even if it means betraying their oath. A fact that your father, I’m sure, knows very well.”

Hiram shook his head. “I thought you were different than your father. That you didn’t act only in your own self-interest. That you took other people’s needs into account. Guess I was wrong.”

Nick scowled. “I want my father locked up. The key thrown away. And if Celia would talk to the FBI, tell them what had happened to her, my father would be locked away forever.”

“What about what he did to your brother?” When Nick stared at him in shock, Hiram rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You think Celia wouldn’t tell us? Of course she told us. She trusts me, Noah and her sister not to betray her.” Hiram curled his lip at Doyle. “More than I can say about you.”

Doyle clenched his teeth, making a muscle twitch. “None of my father’s other victims can speak for themselves, because they’re all dead. As far as I know, Celia’s the only one who survived. She stood in the room when my father ordered Fingers and Murrray to take her on a job with them.”

Hiram tilted his head and stared at Doyle. “How do you know the FBI doesn’t know about that already? Maybe they have someone on the inside of your father’s organization. Maybe they’re taping him. Listening to all the orders he gives. You ever think of that?”

He shrugged. “My father found a bug that someone planted. Blamed Celia, without any evidence. So I assume he’d have found any other bugs in his office.”

“Celia was a woman with no training. No expertise in bugging someone. I don’t know if she planted that bug, but if it was her, she did a damn good job, because she’d worked for your father for… what? Three months? Four?”

“It was almost six months.”

“So she’d been taping your old man for six months, and it took him that long to find the bug. The FBI knows how to plant a bug that won’t be found. They’ve gotta have recordings of your father. Instead of outing Celia, just tell them to listen to the recordings.”

“I can do that, but I guarantee you they’d want to talk to Celia. In person. As the person who survived a hit.”

“And I guarantee you that Celia will say no.” Hiram leaned closer to Nick. “Have you ever had a gun pointed at your head? At your heart?”

“No. I haven’t been involved with my father’s business. At all.”

“Okay,” Hiram said. “Pretend like you have been threatened. Actually shot, but not killed. You escaped and your would-be killers had no idea. They think they’ve killed you. How would you feel?”

Nick swallowed. “I’d be terrified they’d find out. Come after me until they made sure I was dead.”

“Exactly how Celia feels. Terrified. Hunted.”

Hiram shook his head as he held Nick’s gaze. “I get it, kid. You want your father to pay for all the murders he’s ordered and committed. You want him to pay for your brother’s death. For Alice’s death. For everyone else who ended up in a shallow grave in the desert. Celia wants that, too. Hell, anyone with a conscience wants that. But in your righteous anger, you can’t sacrifice one woman’s life to atone for all the ones who’ve been lost.”

“My father is a monster,” Nick said, his voice rising. “Someone has to stop him. If not me, who will it be? One of his men?” He shook his head. “Hell, no. They know my father would kill them.”

Hiram drilled him with an angry glare, and Nick flinched. Eased away from Hiram, but Hiram only leaned closer. Got in his face. “Exactly,” Hiram said, his voice soft. “With this important difference. If you give Celia up to the FBI, it’ll be you who killed her. You might not pull the trigger, but you will have killed her. Remember that.”

Hiram held Nick’s gaze, refusing to look away. Nick pulled out his wallet and threw a twenty on the bar. Stood up and walked out of The Trailhead.

Hiram stared at the door for a long time. Finally sighed. He couldn’t wait for Noah to come home. He needed his help with this situation.