But I saw Ava’s face get soft. Then softer. Then the hands she had curled in his tee at his sides uncurled so she could wrap her arms around him.

Luke’s head lifted.

Ava’s neck twisted so she could look at Tod. “Don’t make any calls, babe.”

Tod heaved an audible sigh of relief prior to collapsing into a chair by his albums.

I did not know if this meant Luke was dancing with Ava at their wedding or not.

I just knew that whatever he said made Ava happy.

And seeing that, thinking on how Eddie was with his pregnant wife, and knowing Mace was standing with Stella only a few feet away and she’d barely been out of the curve of his arm in the fifteen minutes they were, what Ren said in that motel room two days before hit me.

And it hitting me made me reach to my back pocket and pull out my phone. I started it up, touched the button to send a text and typed in, Tonight. Post date. Cowgirl, lotus, doggie. Then I hit send.

With the most recent crisis in Fortnum’s diverted, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and moved out from behind the counter to do a sweep of the tables to gather empties when I heard the store phone ring just as my phone at my ass binged.

I yanked it out and saw I had two texts from Ren.

The first, Not positions. Locations. Stairs. Wall. Bed.

His plan was way better than mine.

The second, Love you, baby.

I smiled and sent back, Back at ‘cha just as Jane called, “Phone for you, Ally.”

My brows drew together as I looked at her.

No one called me there. Not friends, definitely. And my informants and “clients” all knew my cell was the only acceptable form of communication.

I walked to the book counter, took the phone and put it to my ear. “Yo.”

“You want Rosie to stay alive, you deal,” a man’s kinda whiny, definitely weasely voice said to me, and my back went straight. “We want Rosie alive ‘cause we want him growin’ for us. We wanna talk about what it’ll take to buy him outta your protection. You don’t deal, face to face, you comin’ alone, we find a farmer who can take over the crops and his pain in our ass gets dead. You hear me?”

My heart pumping, blood singing, I made a split second decision. I lifted my head and hand and snapped my fingers, my eyes moving from Luke to Mace.

They were both already studying me and they immediately moved my way, their hands going to the back pockets of their jeans.

“You’ll understand I’m not big on a meet seeing as your last approach was detonating a bomb in my apartment,” I replied, eyes to Luke.

“That was before we knew your connections,” the voice returned. “We want no beef with you. We just want Rosie.”

My eyes moving to Mace, I said into the phone, “I may have misunderstood. Do you currently have Rosie?”

“Not yet. But you askin’ that means you don’t either. Which, gotta say, has us confused as to why your crew is searchin’ for him when he has your protection.”

I decided not to share with Lee that these idiots thought his crew was my crew and stated (mostly lying), “Rosie knows I’m not a big fan of explosions. Firefights, okay. Car chases, I dig. Rescues, a specialty. Shattered kneecaps, not my gig, but I got a guy who does that. Everything me or those under my protection owns burning to a cinder, not so much. He brought that down on me, he knows to avoid me for a few days.”

“We apologize for that error, and you can tack reimbursement onto us buyin’ out your protection on Rosie,” he offered.

Thinking on the check I wrote to Roxie the day before to reimburse her for the bags of clothes currently sitting on the floor in Ren’s bedroom, I thought this actually wasn’t a bad deal.

I heard a snap. I focused on Luke, saw he had his phone to his ear and he jerked his head to Mace.

Mace was bent over the counter, phone to his ear, other hand scribbling. He straightened and turned a pad of paper around to me.

On it, it said, Take the meet. Tell them you’re sending an intermediary.

I shook my head.

Mace jerked a finger at me then down to tap the pad.

I slid my eyes away and said into the phone, “Lincoln’s Roadhouse. Today. Three o’clock.”

“Fuck.” I heard Luke bite out quietly.

“Nowhere public,” the voice said in my ear.

“It’s public or it doesn’t happen. If it doesn’t happen, I have more time to focus on getting Rosie under my wing, unleashing the dogs to deal with you, and moving his operation back to Denver where I can keep an eye on him.”

This was obviously a partial lie. The first two were already happening. The last one, never.

I kept going. “You’re on my turf and you don’t sound entirely stupid, so you gotta know you’ve got no hope of locating Rosie before me. But given time, Rosie knows I’ll calm my shit and he’ll come to me. Then I can focus all my energies on you. And I had a lot of really sexy underwear in that apartment, all of it with fond memories. I’m feeling a little grumpy I’ve got to start from scratch.”

“Fuck,” I heard Luke bite out again, this time less quietly, and I looked at him to see him scowling at me.

I held his eyes as I said into the phone, “Lincoln’s. Bring your checkbook. Rosie’s a pain in my ass, but he’s mine. You make an offer that’s motivating and reimburse me for your error, he belongs to you.”

Then I hung up.

The minute I did so did Luke. Mace walked away, phone still to his ear.

Luke instantly launched in, leaning toward me growling, “Jesus, Ally. What the fuck’s the matter with you? Talkin’ about your underwear? Christ. You never sexualize yourself to guys like these.”

“You do when they think you’re a badass who isn’t scared of them, which I’m not because you nor Lee nor anybody would let anything happen to me,” I shot back. “You lose the upper hand if you act like anything they can do puts the fear of God in you. And newsflash, Luke. They knew where I lived, they know where I work. It’s a possibility they’ve had eyes on me. Therefore, unless they’re blind, they know I’m a girl. They don’t need me to sexualize me. They’re guys. They’ve already done it.”

Luke’s mouth got tight, which was silent macho badass for point taken.

“You need to set up for a takedown at Lincoln’s,” I ordered.

“Lee’s already on that,” Mace stated, walking back to us. “And you better prepare, woman, ‘cause he’s also on his way here and he’s not real happy.”

Whatever.

Lee wasn’t real happy when Indy and I bottle rocketed Nina Evans’s front yard when she spread that rumor I had herpes, her brother went ballistic and he had to step in.

And he wasn’t real happy the sundry times I’d gotten a bit past tipsy and interrupted his evening for a ride.

I could go on.

He always got over it.

He’d get over this too.

“I’m gonna go see if my stun gun is charged,” I told Mace and Luke.

Luke frowned at me.

Mace frowned at his boots.

I barely got three steps before Tex was there.

“I’m in,” he declared.

“This is team play,” Luke declined.

“I’m in,” Tex repeated.

“This’ll take three seconds, we don’t have to deal with a wildcard,” Luke returned.

“I’m,’ Tex leaned in and finished on a boom, “in!”

Luke stared him in the eyes.

Then he muttered, “Fuck.”

By the way, that was verbal macho badass that meant Luke was giving in.

A second after that, the bell over the door went and I looked that way to see Lee stalking in, eyes on me.

Yep.

Unhappy.

Whatever.

* * *

“Tex and Brian are already in place,” Lee said to me.

We were in the biography section of the bookshelves.

It was near go time for Operation Takedown New Mexican Baddies.

Tex, you know. Brian was Brian Bond. He was a uniformed cop who had been a rookie when Indy had her Rock Chick Drama, but now he had some experience under his belt. He was also partner with Willie Moses who, aside from being a seriously fine black man, was a friend of the family and a very good cop.

“I know,” I answered Lee.

“You go in, you keep an eye out. You do not look at Tex or Brian, even a glance. They do not exist for you,” Lee ordered.

I fought rolling my eyes and saying, Duh.

“You gotta keep this guy, or guys, occupied for five minutes, ten tops. Mug shots we got on them are years old so don’t rely on those pictures I showed you, and even the police in New Mexico don’t know the extent of their crew so keep alert. Brian and Tex will be casing inside, seein’ if they’re alone or if they come with sentries. My crew will be workin’ outside. You will get no go sign. If inside and outside are clear, Willie will come in and he and Brian will do the takedown. They’re not, we’ll neutralize the threat outside. You’ll see Ike, Bobby and Matt inside workin’ with Willie. You sit at a booth opposite the bar. Brody’s in the van and he’ll have eyes on that row. You have two jobs. Keep them occupied while we clock who’s in play and then gettin’ the fuck outta the way when the takedown begins. You got that?” he asked.

“Yes, kemosabe,” I answered and his eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t a joke, Ally,” he gritted out.

“No shit, Lee.”

His face got dark and after hours of planning this crap, he got down to what was really bugging him.

“You should not have taken the meet.”

“And wait for however long it is for this situation to be dealt with?” I asked. “Luke and Ava are getting married in two days. I don’t want to have to take the time to call the bomb squad to ask them to do a sweep. I take the meet, this is done and all I have to do is wonder with everyone else if Luke’s gonna dance with Ava at the reception.”

His lips got tight.

Although I knew that meant he was going to give me no further shit, which was usually an opening for me to give him some (or some more), I passed on that opportunity in order to get this done.

“Is there anything else before we move out?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “They give you any indication they got a weapon trained on you in a way we can’t see, like under the table, you run your hand through your hair startin’ at the top and going back. Yeah?”

I nodded, not liking that part, but knowing, seeing as they blew up my apartment, they could come in carrying and have no problem switching from negotiation to threats—and other much less fun possibilities—to get what they wanted.

Lee got a lot less intense and moved a few inches away from me.

But he did this saying, “Dad wants a family meeting tonight.”

At that, I shook my head. “Ren and I have a date.”

His chin jerked back. “You had a date two days ago.”

“That didn’t happen seeing as we got sidetracked,” I shared and this time, Lee shook his head.

“Go no further,” he ordered.

I wasn’t going to so I complied.

“We get this done, Willie and Brian get whoever we take down to the station, they’re interrogated, processed, Hank gets briefed, he’s free, the family sits down,” Lee decreed.

“I just said I couldn’t do it tonight because Ren and I have a date,” I reminded him of something he couldn’t have forgotten in the three seconds since I said it.

He got close again. “Ally, it’s not gonna surprise you that Dad—and Mom, I’ll add—are upset and worried. They need a sit down with you and you need to show them the respect of givin’ them that time and listening.”

He was right about that so I had no choice but to nod again but queried, “Can I ask why this meeting is being called through you and Hank?”

“Because by upset and worried I meant hurt and pissed.”

Oh man.

That was not good.

I loved my mom and dad. They were the shit.

Malcolm and Kitty Sue Nightingale weren’t perfect human beings or parents.

But they came really, really close.

Part of me was being nonchalant about all that was happening with me and how it would affect my parents because, as crazy as I was, they not only always loved me but expected, when it got down to the important shit, I’d do the right thing. And save for some lying and underage drinking and a few other things (okay, maybe not a few but nothing that was important), I did.

So I knew two things. The first was that whatever decision I made, if it wasn’t stupid, they’d back it (eventually). The second was that they knew they raised a woman who would not be stupid.