Page 38 of The Brothers Hawthorne

They might start asking questions and pulling at threads that Grayson could not let unravel.

That in mind, Grayson picked up the small, discreet USB drive he’d taken from Sheffield Grayson’s study. He plugged an adapter into his laptop, but when he went to plug the drive into the adapter, he realized that it didn’t fit.Not a USB.It was slightly wider, slightly taller. He turned the end upward and examined it.Definitely not a USB.Grayson could make out what looked like small, wire-thin pegs inside.So what is it?He prodded at the casing, then set it down and reached into his pocket, withdrawing the index card he’d taken from Sheffield Grayson’s office.

A fake USB. An index card, cut down in size.Grayson felt like he was back at Hawthorne House, playing one of the old man’s Saturday morning games. A collection of objects would be laid out in front of Grayson and his brothers, but their purpose, their use, where to begin? Figuring that out was the challenge.

Sheffield Grayson is not the old man, and this is not a game.Grayson told himself that, but it did no good: He had to examine every inch of the card. There was a slight notch in one side and two on another, spaced about an inch apart.

Three notches in a white card. A fake USB drive.Before Grayson could puzzle over—and through—that, his phone rang, and Xander’s name flashed across the screen. Deciding to save himself the trouble—and the yodeling—of ignoring the call, Grayson picked up. “Hello.”

“What’s wrong?” Xander demanded immediately.

Grayson frowned. “What would make you think there’s something wrong?”

“You said hello.”

Grayson’s frown deepened. “I say hello.”

“No, you don’t.” Xander’s grin was audible in his voice. “Now say it in French!”

Grayson did not oblige. “I stole what appeared to be a USB drive from Sheffield Grayson’s home office,” he reported instead. “He had it hidden in a secret compartment in a framed portrait of his family.”

Xander processed that. “Gray, would now be an appropriate time to talk about your feelings?”

Hands in cement, paintings on the wall.“No.” Grayson didn’t belabor that point. “Whatever the drive is, it’s not a USB. I don’t think it’s digital at all. There was also an index card, apparently blank.”

“Invisible ink?” Xander said.

“Possibly,” Grayson replied. “I’ll try the basics.”

“Light, heat, blacklight,” Xander rattled off, a grin audible in his voice. “Sodium iodide.”

“Exactly.”Grayson let his eyes go back to the card.

“And how is everything going withthe sister?” Xander probed.

Still staring at the index card, Grayson corrected him. “Sisters.” The word escaped him. He’d been careful not to think of the girls that way up to this point, but he could feel himself on a slippery slope.

They were his to protect, even if he wasn’ttheirfamily.

“Sisters, plural? As in you met the other one?”

“She knows who I am and despises me on principle.” Grayson gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m a threat to her family.”

“And threats must be extinguished,” Xander intoned. “Is she blonde?”

Grayson scowled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Does she like giving orders?” Xander asked excitedly. “What are her thoughts on suits?”

The point Xander was making did not escape Grayson. “The fact that she doesn’t trust me is going to make my job more difficult.”

“Gray?” Xander said gently. “That’s not the difficult part.”

Grayson thought fleetingly of the family portrait. Of the picture of Colin. Of Acacia saying that if she’d known about him earlier, things might have been different.

Damn Xander.

“Repeat after me, Gray:My feelings are valid.”