Page 105 of The Brothers Hawthorne

“Forget the photographs,” Savannah said curtly. “And our aunt. We need to focus on—”

“Sorry to interject, darlin’,” Nash cut in. “But we have a problem.”

Grayson turned his head toward the window on Nash’s side and took in the scene at the Grayson household. There were cars in the driveway, cars on the street. Black, unmarked.

FBI.Grayson’s initial read was confirmed the instant he saw the men in suits on the driveway.

“Savannah, put the car in park here.” The order was out of Grayson’s mouth before he’d even finalized the thought. They were still two houses away—outside the circumference of any search warrant. “Good,” Grayson said, when Savannah did as she was told. “Now climb into the back seat. Xander—”

“Driver’s seat,” Xander replied automatically. “Got it.”

Grayson looked to Nash. “Can you squeeze up front without getting out of the car?”

Nash took off his cowboy hat and eyed the space over the center console.

“Nash is remarkably flexible,” Xander called back. “I have faith.”

Savannah still hadn’t unbuckled. “Why would I—”

“Just do as I say,” Grayson told her, and it occurred to him, when she went very still, that he might have sounded like their father.

Savannah unbuckled and started scooting back over the center console.

One very cramped game of musical chairs later, Grayson continued issuing orders. “Nash, make sure the puzzle box stays out of view. Find something to throw over it.”

Nash considered his options, then stripped off his worn white T-shirt. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell ’em I run hot.”

Gigi blinked several times, as if the sight of Nash Hawthorne shirtless had broken her brain.

“Get out of the car,” Grayson told her with a gentle nudge. “Savannah and I will follow. Xander will wave and drive off. Savannah, do not under any circumstances volunteer the information that this is your car. And if you are specifically asked—about the car, about anything else—feign outrage. No answers. Gigi—”

“Trust me, my sister isn’t going to befeigningoutrage,” Gigi said cheerfully. “We all have to play to our strengths, am I right? Luckily, I am still highly caffeinated, and I can get drunk just thinking about mimosas.” She closed her eyes. “Mimosas,” she whispered, and then she opened them. “The guys in suits won’t know what hit them.”

CHAPTER 72

GRAYSON

Savannah and Juliet Grayson?” An FBI agent intercepted the three of them at the end of the driveway.

“She goes by Gigi,” Savannah replied. “Not Juliet.”

Cool tone, nonanswer, Grayson thought.Well done, Savannah.

“We’ll need you two to stay out here while we finish our search.” Mr. FBI didn’t so much as try to soften that statement with a smile. “May I ask who just dropped you off?”

“You may not,” Grayson said, looking past the agent. That was another of Tobias Hawthorne’s many tricks for seizing control. Sometimes, staring a person down did nothing but give them power. And why would a Hawthorne ever do that? “I assume,” Grayson continued, “that the lady of the house has a copy of the warrant?”

That wasn’t really a question. It was a signal to the agent: Grayson was the type of person capable of reading the fine print—and enforcing it.

“And who are you?” the FBI agent asked, his eyes narrowing.

Grayson looked past him again, as if this entire encounter were quite boring. “A person under no legal obligation to answer your questions at this time.” Grayson’s visual search finally hit on the person he’d been looking for: Acacia. She was standing in between the fountain and the portico, flanked by agents herself.

“Mom!” Gigi practically leapt forward. The agent who had been questioning Grayson stepped in front of her. When Gigi attempted to dodge around him, he grabbed her arm.

“Remove your hand from my sister’s body,” Savannah said. “Now.” Thatnowwas impressive. It should have been effective. Coming from Grayson, it would have been.

But in response to his sister’s demand, the agent just held up his free hand. “Let’s all just calm down here,” he said, like Savannah was hysterical