She got up, and I almost gasped at her skintight pencil skirt and red-soled stilettos as she sashayed off out of sight, presumably to consult with Mr. Ricci or the other Mr. Ricci.

  "Did you see those Louboutins?" I whispered.

  Dana smirked. "Did you see that skirt? It's a miracle she could sit down in that thing. Something tells me she does more than answer phones around here."

  I glanced down at her workstation, curious. Cosmopolitan lay open near the phones, offering five ways to improve your bosom and drive your man wild. I wondered if she'd notice if I tore that page out.

  "Why don't you have a seat," a gravelly male voice said over my shoulder.

  This time I did gasp. I'd been so focused on talking to the receptionist, I'd forgotten the gatekeeper goons.

  "Thank you, but we're about to see Mr. Ricci," Dana informed him.

  The goon smirked. "You gotta show more leg if you wanna catch his attention."

  "For your information," Dana said icily, "we're here on business."

  He gave her a brazen once-over. "I just bet you are."

  Dana's expression darkened. "Look, I don't know who you think you're talking to."

  "I know you don't look like no developers," he said flatly.

  Oh boy.

  I was about to suggest we just hop right back on the elevators, but Dana wasn't letting this go.

  "I'll have you know that I've studied classic architecture—"

  No she hadn't.

  "—and graduated top of my class at Harvard—"

  No she didn't.

  "—and have a commendation from the mayor on the wall of my corner office!"

  "Uh, maybe we should just come back later," I said, trying to persuade her toward the elevator.

  "Listen, you bimbo," the goon started.

  "Bimbo!" Dana looked ready to go all Charlotte's Angels on him, her eyes flashing fire.

  "I don't know who you think you're fooling, but Mr. Ricci—"

  "Colt." The single word was sharp as a gunshot from the receptionist.

  The goon's smirk vanished at the simple pointed rebuke.

  "Mr. Ricci will see you now," the receptionist told us. "Follow me, please."

  We all stared at each other—again, I assumed, since Colt's sunglasses were firmly in place—until he grudgingly edged aside, allowing us to slip past him and follow the Louboutins.

  Which I was reluctant to do. We might have won the receptionist over, but I could tell the goon was less trusting. I had a bad feeling if the Riccis were really anything like their reputation, they'd be more on the guarded side as well.

  Eyeing the safety of the elevators, I followed the receptionist into an office that was aggressively masculine, with plenty of glass and leather, overlaid with the scent of money, some of it clean. Two men waited for us there, both in multithousand dollar suits and better manicures than mine. Like the lobby goons, they were similar in height and build but lacked the tough guy posturing. Instead, they were smooth and styled, which seemed even more dangerous somehow.

  As they approached us, I noticed a slight age difference between them and saw that both men lacked the accumulation of lines and wrinkles that would be expected of someone of their years. But instead of the absence of character lines being flattering, their facial skin seemed stretched a little too tightly with an odd sheen. For some reason, it made me think of grinning Halloween skulls.

  The receptionist announced us from the doorway. "Dana and Maddie from Mr. Vitale's offices, sirs." She promptly disappeared, and we were left with the men who could have been responsible for Beth's death. They hadn't said a word, but from looks alone, it was hard to imagine Robert being involved professionally with them. I hoped my distaste didn't show. Something told me these two were apex predators who would sense weakness.

  Dana lifted her chin, using her acting skills to continue in the role that had won us access to the Ricci inner sanctum. "You might want to have a word with your security back there. Colt was incredibly insulting to us. I believe the word he used was…" She turned to me. "What was it again?"

  "Bimbos," I said, doing a much poorer job than she was of mustering up indignation in my tone.

  "Bimbos. That's the word." Dana gave them a haughty look. "Interesting approach to business, wouldn't you say?"

  The younger, glossier Ricci took the lead. "Colt called you ladies bimbos? Well, we certainly can't have that. We'll see to it he's shot by sunset." He exchanged bemused glances with his brother, who stood at the window like a king on his balcony, gazing down at the minions below.

  I suppressed a shiver, not all that sure he was kidding.

  "I don't think we need to go that far," Dana said evenly. "A simple public flogging should do the trick."

  He showed a row of capped teeth in something meant to be a smile. "Dominic Ricci." His strange amber colored eyes flitted over to me before returning to Dana. "Ariana tells us you have an interest in Ricci joining the Athena project."

  Too late, something suddenly occurred to me. They were acting as if they accepted Athena as a real thing. Dana was selling it convincingly. But the Riccis were in the industry, with decades' worth of experience and contacts. Wouldn't they be aware of potential new projects in the pipeline?

  And if they were, we were the ones being played, and I didn't like our chances of making it past Colt on our way out the door.

  Dana nodded. "That's right. You should know that Paglioni Construction is looking to get in on the job."

  The fibs were flowing so smoothly that I had to slide a sideways look at her to make sure her nose was still the same size.

  "Never heard of Paglioni," he said with a small frown. "Giovanni, you ever hear of Paglioni?"

  Giovanni extracted himself from his studied pose at the window to join us. "No."

  So he was the talkative one.

  "Come to think of it, never heard of Vitale either," Dominic said.

  They both stared at us, waiting.

  Dana was calm. "Probably because we do the bulk of our work in the Pacific Northwest."

  "Probably." His agreement seemed less agreement than sarcasm. He knew we were phonies. I was sure of it. I only hoped he didn't do something sensible, like ask for a business card.

  "Paglioni's a good outfit," Dana went on. "But they've never handled a project of this size. I'm holding out for Ricci. And my opinion matters. That's why we're here, to give you the inside track to the job."

  Dominic didn't react. "Why would you do that?"

  She shrugged. "I think you're a better fit. I've been asking around. Athena is just the sort of project you handle."

  I got the definite sense this meeting was skidding downhill fast and cast about for a quick distraction. I found it in a framed photograph on the credenza. "Is that your daughter? She's beautiful."

  This time Dominic's smile seemed genuine. "Thank you. That's my Angela from a year ago. She's five now."

  "Five and three months," Giovanni corrected him.

  "Ah, yes. Mustn't forget those three months."

  "My kids are the same age," I told him. "It's amazing how their minds work, isn't it? The things they come up with. Is she your only child?"

  He nodded. "I wish I had a dozen more."

  I doubted his wife felt the same. "Being a parent is so rewarding," I agreed.

  He looked at Dana. "Do you have kids?"

  She shook her head. "I do have parents, though." She shot me a look. "In fact," she went on, "I think you once worked with my father-in-law, Robert Montgomery."

  If the name caused any reaction in them, they both hid it, their faces still perfectly smooth masks.

  "We work with a lot of people."

  "Of course. And this would have been years ago," Dana said, waving off the seemingly unimportant details. "He was an architect on one of your earlier projects. A hotel, I believe? Sunset Towers?"

  This time I did see the slight hint of recognition in Dominic's eyes as they flitted briefly to his brother. "Montgomery, you said?"

  "Yes. Robert Montgomery."

  "Sure. I remember him now. Bob, the architect. That was a long time ago," he said. "You remember Bob, Giovanni?"

  "Sure," the talkative brother repeated.

  "It was a high-rise he worked on for us. One of our first," Dominic went on. "That guy's plans were a work of art. He gave us just what we were looking for, right down to the safe room."

  Safe room? Who built safe rooms in hotels built thirty years ago? People who lived with danger, that's who. People who consorted with criminals and hired black-suited goons named Colt to protect them.

  "So you did work with him?" I asked, shooting Dana a glance. I could see disappointment in her father-in-law flicker across her expression.

  "Sure. For a little while."

  "A little while?" Dana asked. "So you didn't work together on your next project?"

  Dominic shook his head. "Didn't even finish that one. We were halfway through the build when Bob had to back out of the job. Death in the family, if I remember right."

  "His wife." Dana's voice was icy. "She died in a house fire."

  "Yes, I might have read something about that when it happened."

  "The fire was of suspicious origin," she added.

  "Was it." He studied her for a few seconds. "Maybe she got involved with the wrong people."

  "Or he did," she countered.

  "You don't think much of your father-in-law." The bemused look was back. I tried to squelch the urge to run.

  "What was your impression of him?" she asked.

  "He was a good architect," he said smoothly. "Shame we had to replace him that far along, but it couldn't be helped." His eyebrow lifted. "Don't tell me he's on this, uh, Athena Project?"

  "No, he's retired," Dana said. "But I'm not surprised you were happy with his work. He won a few awards for his designs over his career."

  Dominic nodded. "I bet he did. He was worth every penny. Wasn't he, Gio?"

  "Mm," Giovanni said.

  "So you found him easy to work with?" she pressed. "You didn't, say, have any disagreements with him?"

  His eyes narrowed very slightly. "Why would you ask such a thing of your own father-in-law?"

  Uh-oh. She needed to back off. I didn't buy Dominic's slippery charm for a second, but it was Giovanni who was the more threatening by his silence. I could easily see either one of them committing murder without blinking an eye or mussing a lapel.

  Or maybe I'd just watched too many mafia movies.

  "Just curious." Dana shrugged with forced casualness. "Seems odd he'd leave such a big project if everything had been running smoothly."

  "Yeah, well, like I said, the man had a death in the family."

  One I was having less and less difficulty seeing the Riccis be the cause of.

  "Tell you what," Dominic said in a flat tone. "Why don't you leave your contact info with Ariana, and we'll be sure to set up an appointment with your boss Vitale about this job of yours."

  I hadn't even noticed he'd been incrementally steering us back toward the door as we'd been speaking. Now he reached around Dana to open it in a tacit dismissal.

  We took the hint, mumbling goodbyes as we quickly walked back down the hallway to the waiting elevator goons. I could swear Colt's eyes were taunting us as he hit the button to summon the elevator. Of course, any proof of that was hidden behind mirrored lenses, but I felt my entire body heave a sigh of relief once the elevators doors slid closed behind us and we started our descent to street level.

  Ten minutes later we were back at the car, locking the doors for good measure in case Frick and Frack decided to follow us out.

  "What'd you think of them?" Dana asked as we strapped ourselves in.

  "I think they're scary and they didn't buy our act at all."

  "The receptionist did," Dana argued.

  "The receptionist looked like she hadn't eaten in a month. She wasn't thinking clearly." I glanced in the rearview mirror, almost expecting Colt to come charging after us. "I'll be looking over my shoulder for the next month."

  "I'm sure Ricci makes better use of his time than chasing after the likes of us."

  "You mean the women who showed up uninvited, called out his security, dangled a nonexistent job, and lied like a rug?" I made a face. "I doubt he'll give us a second thought."

  "Well, I can't take it back now." She drove a few blocks in silence. "Seriously, though, what did you think of them?"

  "Same thing you do I'm guessing." I shuddered. "I wouldn't want to be in business with either one of them. I'm kind of surprised Robert was."

  "Maybe he didn't know what kind of people they were until it was too late?" She frowned, thinking. "Or maybe he just needed the business. He was still trying to establish himself back then."

  "Odd, then, that he'd leave such a big job," I noted.

  Dana frowned. "You think maybe he didn't leave on his own? That the Riccis forced him out?"

  "Or warned him away," I said. "They made a point of saying it was Beth's death that led to Robert leaving."

  We rode in silence for a few minutes, both of us thinking about that point.

  "Let's assume for a moment that the Ricci Brothers are everything that Uncle Bart made them out to be." I paused feeling almost silly saying the word out loud, but… "Mobsters."

  "I've seen enough to convince me," Dana replied.

  "So what do mobsters do?"

  "Kill people?"

  "Besides that."

  "Break kneecaps?"

  "Okay, that too. But Ramirez mentioned something about bribery in the Riccis' past. Maybe they were cutting corners on this hotel they were building and paying inspectors to look the other way? Buying their way through the red tape."

  "Robert was the architect. He'd know if things weren't being built according to his plans," Dana added.

  "You think he would have looked the other way if he knew?"

  She shook her head. "No. Not with his professional reputation on the line. He's not the type of person who would do that."

  I weighed my next words carefully. "So if he found out the Riccis were bribing their way through the construction, what do you think he'd do?"

  Dana's eyes left the road to meet mine for a second. "I think he'd object."

  "So maybe Robert called them out on it. Even threatened to expose them, and they killed Beth as a warning."

  "Why not kill him instead?"

  "Because they wanted him to finish the job?" I suggested. "Or maybe it would be too suspicious if the architect died suddenly. The architect's wife, however, was expendable."

  Dana frowned. "I wonder if there's any way to prove what they were doing on that jobsite."

  "Doubtful. Ramirez said they were Teflon. Not enough evidence to ever make charges stick."

  "There's got to be some records of the project," Dana argued. "Maybe someone else who worked with all of them back then."

  "And still has their kneecaps intact?"

  Her frown softened. "I'll call Bixby again. My PI. Maybe see if she can find out anything specific about that hotel project." She must have seen the dubious look on my face, as she added, "It's worth a try at least."

  I could only hope that Bixby was a little more subtle than Dana and I had been. Something told me the Riccis had a lot of skeletons rattling around in that luxury office suite in the sky. Possibly even literally.

  * * *

  After we drove back to Dana's place, I hopped into my minivan and picked up Livvie and Max from school, happy to be distracted by the chatter about their day while I put together a quick dinner (with help from Stouffer's). Their tales of playground shenanigans helped push thoughts of the Riccis from my head and fears of how angry they'd be when they realized there was no multimillion dollar Athena project. I only hoped they'd forgive and forget. Especially forget.

  "Mommy." Max tugged on my shirt. "I need cookies."

  "It's too close to dinnertime," I told him.

  "For school," he reminded me. "I need cookies for school."

  "Chocolate chip," Livvie chirped. "Did you forget, Mommy?"

  I did a mental forehead slap. The cookies had completely slipped my mind. I didn't even think I had the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Or a mixer. Or any baking skills. Time for plan B.

  "Jacob's bringing shortbird cookies," Max said. "With fudge on top. He said his mommy makes cookies every weekend."

  Jacob's mother clearly had too much free time. "I think you mean shortbread, sweetie." I ruffled his hair. "I'll take care of it tomorrow." I should be able to drop by the bakery early enough to clean them out of chocolate chip cookies, transfer them to a Tupperware container, and pass them off as home-baked. And I refused to feel guilty about it.

  Ramirez came home just as I finished tossing a quick salad, and the twins started their recitation of the day's activities all over again for his benefit. Fortunately, the chatter continued throughout dinner, which saved me from having to discuss our visit to Ricci Construction.

  After I'd cleaned up the dinner dishes, Ramirez and I tag-teamed getting the twins bathed and pajama'd and tucked into bed. It was nearly nine o'clock by the time we collapsed together in our bedroom. I snuggled against Ramirez's solid warmth, resting my head on his chest and letting my eyes flutter closed. This was my favorite part of the day, when the chores and errands were finished and the twins had drifted off to sleep, and it was just me and my man.

  Until unwanted thoughts of the Ricci Brothers pushed through the contentment. That visit hadn't been one of my better decisions. Dana's subterfuge had made it even worse. Potentially dangerous. The Riccis made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I didn't want to be on their radar for any reason, especially for investigating their connection to a murder.

  "You buy anything good today?" Ramirez murmured into my hair.

  "What?"

  "At the mall." He shifted so he could see my face. "You said you and Dana were there."

  "Oh. Right. Yeah." I shifted so he couldn't see the guilt I felt blossoming in my cheeks. "Uh, just some cosmetics."

  "Hmm," he murmured.

  "How was your day?" I asked, changing the subject before he could dig any further.