I watch as Leander kisses his fingertips in a dramatic al bacio gesture before his gaze settles on mine. With just a blink, he goes from jovial and amused to stern and shadowed. My eyebrows raise in a silent question. What now?

After another pull from his pint glass, Leander leans a little closer, steepling his fingers as he regards me. “One million for the retainer. Five jobs a year.”

“You told me five hundred thousand,” Lachlan says. “And she gets unlimited access to the office to use the investigational resources whenever she wants.”

Leander’s smile is predatory as it shifts from Lachlan to me. “She can have unlimited use. For double. And five jobs a year.”

“Six hundred thousand, unlimited access to the office, and four jobs a year. And I initiate that job today with a one- hundred-thousand-dollar bonus if the aggressor is identified and killed before my aunt passes away.” I feel the fleeting graze of Lachlan’s knuckles across my wrist and turn, meeting the question in his eyes. Just like at brunch with my parents, I know what he’s asking without words. “I want her to know her family is safe before she goes.”

A smile sneaks across Leander’s lips as he extends a hand across the space between us. “Done.”

I take his hand, and as soon as I let go, he’s writing in the agreed numbers and passing me the paperwork to sign.

Leander claps his hands together. With this business done, his demeanor shifts again. He starts poking Lachlan for details on the recent Kane weddings, information that Lachlan deftly keeps to a minimum. It seems second nature for Lachlan to provide just enough color for Leander to feel satisfied, and just enough shade to keep him at arm’s length. By the time I’ve wired the retainer money, Leander seems relaxed, maybe even a bit drunk, though he’s only finished one pint since we arrived.

I tamp down a grim smile.

“All right, kids,” he says with a slight slur as he slaps his palms to his knees. “Feel free to get started in the office whenever you like. The sooner the better, right?”

“Right.”

Leander stands. He takes two unsteady steps.

Then he falls flat on his face.

“Shit,” Lachlan hisses as he bolts upright. I smooth my hands over my skirt as Lachlan checks Leander’s breathing and taps him a few times on the cheek. “Well, that’s a bonus. He’s alive.” When Lachlan’s shocked gaze lands on me, I’m waiting with a sheepish smile. “What in the bloody feckin’ hell, Lark?”

“Yeah … I kinda thought that might happen.”

“Seriously?”

I shrug. “Ethel doesn’t like to be bossed around. Especially when it comes to muffins. She gets a little vindictive.”

“How about this, you feckin’ catastrophe—clue me in next time before you give my psycho boss drugged baked goods, yeah?”

“To be fair, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were drugged. Ethel was pretty vague about us not eating them.”

“Were you going to tell me that?”

“I figured you wouldn’t touch them out of spite.”

Lachlan shakes his head and gestures toward the man sprawled at his feet. A rumbling snore rises from the floor. With a string of whispered curses, Lachlan rolls him into the recovery position then turns his attention to me, his expression incredulous.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine in like … four hours. And when he wakes up he’ll remember that Ethel always gets the last word. The Montagues can psycho with the best of them, remember?”

“Christ Jesus.”

With a wink, I stand and clap my hands. Leander’s snore continues, undisturbed by the sudden sound. “Right. Let’s go to the office then, shall we?”

Lachlan gives me a weary shake of his head, then gestures for me to follow as he leads the way to the basement door.

The house is empty and silent as we leave out the back door and walk down a curved path toward a separate building, one that feels utilitarian compared to the house. Stark white brick with a black steel roof, the darkly tinted windows giving no indication of what lies within. The single access point is a fortified steel door.

Lachlan places his left hand on a control panel, then leans toward a circular lens that scans his iris. A moment later, a set of cylindrical bolts disengages and the door cracks open.

“Pretty fancy,” I say as Lachlan pushes the door wider and allows me to pass the threshold first. “I should get that for my glitter collection. I know you’ve been crafting when I’m not around.”

“I have not.” Lachlan pretends to look haughty. “If I was going to steal something, it would be gold stars. Gold stars are clearly superior to glitter.”

I give him a teasing grin, and before either of us can get too sucked into a nonabrasive moment of levity, we break the connection between us and head deeper into the room.

The interior is as utilitarian as the outside of the building, no decorations on the waffled soundproofing that lines the walls. There are several screens that hang from the ceiling, nothing displayed on their matte surfaces. Four computer stations sit in the center of the room, each with three monitors. The desks are uncluttered, only a mouse and keyboard on each one. A metal staircase leads to a lower level from which a low hum resonates.

“What’s down there?” I ask with a nod to the stairway as Lachlan leads us to one of the desks.

“Servers,” Lachlan replies as he pulls a chair back for me to sit, then grabs another for himself before powering up our station. “Conor manages most of it on Leander’s behalf. He’s the real tech guy, but I can still get us started with the search. Normally, I’d go through whatever background files we have for the Covaci side of things at least, but since you’re here we can skip a few steps.”

“You mean the files are in the computer?”

Lachlan looks from me to the monitor and back again, confusion etched between his brows. “Yes … that’s … how it works …”

“Oh my God, you have literally no idea what I’m talking about.” I whack Lachlan’s arm with the back of my hand and roll my eyes before clicking into the search field to type a name. “It’s from the movie Zoolander. How are we even married?”

I’m met with silence from Lachlan. Ignoring his reticent expression, I pull the keyboard closer. “Can I look up anyone on this?”

“Yeah, it’ll pull in data from multiple sources. Driving records, medical information, criminal history if there is one. Some sources are more expensive than others, so we start with basics and build from there. The more valuable information might go for auction, like if there’s a specific person with a bounty on their head with multiple contractors mining the records, for example. FBI information fetches a high price so we’ll only go there if we’re sure we’re on to something. Costs me a small fortune to find the info on serial killers for Rowan to play his little game with Sloane.” Lachlan shrugs when I tilt my head and my brows knit. “Keeps him out of trouble around here. And it makes him happy.”

I give him a brief smile that he seems to ignore before I turn back to the screen. The system looks slick but simple, and I start typing a name into the search field at the top of the page.

Louis Campbell. Location: Connecticut. Age, I leave that blank. Occupation: education. I don’t bother with the advanced search fields, details I don’t know or maybe I did once but have since forgotten.

I press enter. Seven Louis Campbells populate in a list below the search fields. Each has basic details—age, address, contact details, medical insurance, utility providers, job history. One contact card blares at me like a siren.

“Louis Campbell? Who’s that?” Lachlan asks, and his question hangs like an ornament in silence. I don’t reply as I hover the cursor over his name. “You think he has something to do with what’s happening to your family?”

“No,” I say as I return the cursor to the search box and clear the query. “I was just curious.”