“You should take some of these cookies to him. I think he’ll like them, and since he was asking about you, you can say hi.”

  Looking up, I catch a glint in her eyes, and I’m going to have to be very careful around Pepper. She’s smart as a whip.

  “You think Scar likes sugar cookies?”

  “I think he likes your cookies.”

  My eyebrows shoot up, and I give her leg a playful shove. “Mind your business.”

  She exhales a laugh and hops off the bar. “I’ve got more tidying to do. I’ll see you tomorrow at the park.”

  “Bring your friends.” Picking up the remaining cookies, I wrap them in a paper towel. “Maybe I can meet Tommy. I hope he’s a good boy.”

  “He’s good,” she calls back. “At skateboarding.”

  Shaking my head, I quickly clean up our mess, impatience twisting in my stomach. I’m antsy and breathless and excited and I really need to be cool. Taking a few calming breaths, I scoop up the small bundle and head out to the waiting golf cart I use to get around town.

  We have a few hours until dinner, and I’m ready to share my cookies.

  4

  Scar

  Standing in front of the wall in the office at my house, I look at the sketches I’ve made of what we know and what we don’t.

  “That’s some old-school shit.” Dirk laughs, studying my wall. “What will you do if somebody comes to the house?”

  “Lock the door,” I growl, not bothered by his teasing. Seeing it this way helps me think.

  “Three seemingly healthy men died of heart attacks.” Hutch’s deep voice focuses our conversation. “One gunshot victim is missing, and the blackmailer is gone, possibly dead.”

  “We also have a dead girl and Hana as the target of a blackmail racket and possibly star of a snuff film,” Dirk adds. “If you can trust her memory, which I for one, do not.”

  My jaw clenches at his words. I don’t want to cross Dirk, but I don’t like him speaking that way about Hana.

  “She was right about him being dead.” My voice is low, and I hope it doesn’t sound defensive.

  Hutch joins in quickly. “Blake pointed out she wasn’t in the room when Hugh told us Victor was dead. Somehow she knew.”

  “She thinks she did it.” Passing a hand over my mouth, I try to make sense of this nonsense.

  “Which begs the question, who would benefit from Hana thinking she’s a murderer?” Dirk points to my wall. “I think somebody wanted Hana to take the fall for Victor’s death–or at the very least, wanted to turn attention from himself.”

  “Ivan was blackmailing Blake, so maybe he’s the murderer? Maybe that’s why he’s gone now–he got caught?”

  “But he told Blake it was porn.” Dirk adds. “He could’ve raised his price and the stakes by accusing her of murder.”

  “So we’ll operate off the assumption Ivan didn’t know he had a snuff film on his hands,” Hutch muses.

  “If it even is that.” Skepticism is thick in Dirk’s voice.

  “It takes more than one person to make a video.” I quietly state the obvious. “Ivan isn’t the only person who knows what happened.”

  “Does Blake still have the link to the files?” Dirk taps quickly on his computer keys.

  “It was a QR code.” Hutch notes. “She still has the image, but the link is broken.”

  “Send it to me,” Dirk says, still typing. “It’s possible I can figure out where it used to be stored and see if that leads anywhere.”

  “What does Hugh say about all of this?” I look over at Hutch.

  “Same as before. He congratulates us on getting the girls out of danger, taking care of the bad guys, and helping get their money back.”

  “So he’s still not talking.” I put my hands on my hips, looking up at the wall.

  “You think he’s hiding something?” Hutch sounds less like he’s asking and more like he’s thinking the same thing as me.

  “That old man knows more than he’s telling us.” Like Trip said, I think to myself, why…

  “You coming over for dinner tonight? Lurlene made plenty for everyone.”

  Pulling the ring on my bottom lip under my teeth, I think about what he’s asking. “Maybe. I need to unpack.”

  “We’ll set a place for you.” Hutch’s voice is calm, authoritative. He’s our leader, but he’s not a boss.

  “I’ll be there,” Dirk calls out. “In the meantime, send me that code, and I’ll see what I can track down. I still have a bot running, searching for Ivan. If he’s alive, I’ll find him.”

  “Ping us if you hear anything,” Hutch orders.

  We sign off, and I cross my arms, looking up at the wall. One of the dead guys is Hana’s father, Charles van Hamilton. The other dead guy is the former owner of Gibson’s, who we think killed Debbie, Blake and Hana’s friend, although he denied it.

  The third is Victor…

  Taking out my phone, I quickly tap on the face. Need to talk to you, sir. Would it be possible to stop by tomorrow?

  I’m respectful to Hugh van Hamilton, not only because he owns the town and he’s Hutch’s close friend. He’s also Hana’s uncle.

  He despises texts and all the modern technology, but I get a reply from Norris. Mr. Hugh says he will be available tomorrow morning at eleven.

  I quickly tap back. I’ll be there.

  Hugh had Victor’s ledger, he also got it from one of Victor’s guys–who he said his bodyguard killed. That old man knows a hell of a lot more than he’s saying, and I need him to start connecting these dots. My hope is if I tell him a bit of my story, he’ll open up. Then I can take what I know to the guys.

  Before he disappeared, Trip told us to ask why Victor went after India van Hamilton and her daughters, but I know they were connected before Charles was killed.

  Hugh said Victor was embezzling money from Charles’s estate, but I also know Charles was mixed up in the doping scheme Victor was running. They shared a thoroughbred horse, and he was in over his head.

  If Hugh knows Simon, many puzzle pieces will snap into place. The only wild card is Hana. Who wants us to believe she killed Victor?

  Exhaling a frustrated growl, I want to go back to New York City, but until Dirk finds another lead, it’s a dead end. As it is, I've got to stay here for now.

  But staying here could be more dangerous for me than walking into Simon’s lair.

  “Hello?” A soft, female voice I recognize calls from the kitchen, and electricity zips through my chest.

  Moving quickly, I shut down the computer and grab my phone. Stepping into the hall, I close the door to the room and turn the key in the lock. Then I put the key in the pocket of my jeans.

  “Anybody home?” She calls again, and her voice is like the sweetest music to my ears.

  Fuck. I clench my fists and steel myself. I can’t be this way with her. I have to be in control.

  Clearing my throat, I step into the bright, open kitchen and when my eyes land on hers, all the breath slips from my lungs.

  Hana’s standing in a shaft of sunlight with her pretty curls piled on her head in some kind of messy way that looks too damn cute. She’s smiling like she always does, like she’s nervous and confident all at the same time, which doesn’t make any sense.

  Nothing about her makes sense–in particular the way she’s crawled under my skin and lives in my head rent-free 24-7.

  Now she’s in my kitchen in cutoff jean shorts and a long-sleeved white sweater. Her pink toenails are exposed in black flip flops, and she does a little wave. She’s the best thing I’ve ever seen, and it makes me want to pack up all my shit and get as far away from here as possible.

  I’m not afraid of anything, but this tiny woman with her fucked up past and her sweet little smile is going to be the death of me. I know she is, and I’m walking right into the fire anyway.

  5

  Hana

  My heart beats so hard, I think I might faint. I’m standing in Scar’s kitchen, and he’s glaring at me like he’s trying to decide whether to throw me out or ask me to sit down. Now I’m second-guessing everything, including my decision to come over here with a bundle of sugar cookies.

  Sugar cookies? Really, Hana? Like that’s going to help him see me as an adult. I guess I did take advice from a twelve-year-old.

  He’s standing in front of me in faded jeans and a black tee that shows off the sleeves of ink running down both his arms, covering the scars I still don’t know how he got.

  I want to know. I want to know everything about him.

  His hair’s pulled back in the usual bun, and he’s watching me with those cool-blue wolf eyes making my entire body weak. A ring is in his lip. He doesn’t always wear it, and when he crosses his arms, his biceps expand and the muscles in his shoulders ripple.

  “Hey.” His voice is low and smokey.

  A smile breaks across my face. “Hey, yourself. I heard you were back.”

  My voice sounds way more confident than I feel. He’s a six-foot-four tower of scary-assed sex, and I want to curl up in his arms and never leave.

  “I got back last night.” He’s watching me like he always does, like he’d kill anybody who touched me, yet he won’t touch me himself.

  It’s so frustrating.

  “Did you have a good trip?”

  He shrugs, lowering his arms and entering the kitchen, but keeping the large, wooden bar between us. It’s the first time I’ve been inside his house, and I realize his bar looks a lot like the one in Hutch’s kitchen. It's the same, rough-hewn wood and heavy metal hardware.

  “The trip was fine. Not a lot of answers.” Opening the refrigerator, he looks inside then up to me. “I haven’t been to the store yet. All I have is beer.”

  “That’s okay!” I wave my hand, stepping forward and placing the bundle of cookies on the bar. “I brought these for you. Pepper and I made them, and she thought you might like some.”

  God, I want to die. I sound so young and immature, and I want to sound like my sister–confident and strong.

  I’m twenty-one. I should’ve said I’d have a beer. Only, it’s too early, and I’m trying to show everyone I’m making good choices.

  Looks like I’m stuck with sugar cookies. Thank God sprinkles aren’t tidy.

  Scar’s brow furrows, and he walks over to where I’m standing. Looking up, I study his small nose and lovely full lips I want to kiss.

  He opens the paper towel, and a whisper of a smile softens his amazing face. “Cookies?”

  “It’s a super-simple recipe. When I heard you were back, I really just wanted to come over and say hi.”

  As I’m talking too fast, he takes one of the pieces and lifts it to his mouth, popping the entire thing inside and nodding. “It’s good.”

  A flush sweeps through my entire body. I’m sure I’m beaming like I just found the cure for dementia instead of whipping up a batch of three-ingredient sugar cookies, quite possibly the easiest recipe on the planet.

  He takes another one and bites it in half. “You made these?”

  “Pepper and me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So that’s all, I guess. I just wanted to come by and say hi and welcome home.” And now I’m repeating myself. “Are you going to dinner at Hutch’s tonight?”

  I don’t know where that came from. I haven’t even decided if I’m going or if I’m even invited just because Pepper mentioned it.

  “Are you?” His brow furrows in a way that makes me wonder what’s the right answer.

  Two weeks have passed. Is it possible, he’s not as interested in me as he was when he left. When he stopped by my birthday party, it really seemed like he wanted to touch me, to hold my hand at the very least. I know I felt something.

  He told me I looked really pretty.

  Now it feels like he’s pushing me away.

  “I might. Pepper mentioned it, but I haven’t talked to Blake.”

  “I might be there.”

  This is it, I decide. I have to go for it. If Blake is right, I have to be completely clear.

  Stepping forward, I put my hand on his resting on the bar. He stills at my touch so much I’m not sure he’s breathing. I don’t pull back. I spread my fingers over his large fist, tracing a line to the ink on his wrist.

  “I hope I’ll see you there.”

  His eyes are on my hand touching his, slender and pale, fingers longing to thread. He only nods, that sexy muscle moving in his jaw.

  I want to kiss his cheek, but instead, I take my hand away and go to the door. Hesitating, I look back to give him one last smile. His gaze is hooded as he watches me, and he doesn’t smile back.

  “Maybe I could tidy your room!” Pepper sits on the floor across from me, scooping glass beads from the tray as we play a game of Mancala.

  Blake’s in the kitchen with Lurlene helping her plate the food, and Dirk and Hutch stand by the fireplace talking quietly.

  “Sure. Whatever.” I’m not really paying attention to her, I’m straining to hear what they’re saying and catching my breath every time a door opens.

  When I got back from Scar’s house this afternoon, Blake met me at the door to say we were having dinner here tonight. She said Lurlene wanted the whole family together again.

  Lurlene isn’t a blood relative, but she treats us all like her children. It’s one of the things I love about this place. From the first night we were here, she brought us in, fed us an amazing dinner, and made us feel welcome and at home.

  I spent a little extra time getting ready for dinner, styling two braids on each side of my hair, adding a touch of perfume behind my ears. I’m wearing my ivory lace Balenciaga shift, which I know only Blake and Debbie would appreciate. It’s short and low-cut and highlights my best features–my long legs and my shoulders–while blending with my skin.

  My eyes are smoky, and my lips are pale pink and matte. I’m going for “innocent seductress,” neither of which I am. I’m not innocent, and I’ve never been much of a seductress. I’m going to give myself the hiccups with all this stress.

  “It’s TMZ, I’m sure of it.” Dirk’s holding a glass of wine, and I think maybe I should slip into the kitchen and get one to calm my jumpy nerves. “It’s the only thing that ties them all together.”

  Hutch looks down, speaking quietly. “We can discuss it at the office. I don’t want…” He glances over to where I’m sitting with Pepper.

  “Of course.” Dirk takes another sip of wine, turning to look at the gas log. “I got my schedule of classes for the fall. I’m only teaching one course, but it’s two days a week for three hours.”

  His older brother nods. “You can manage that easily. How much after-hours prep?”

  “Not much.”

  A light tap on the front door precedes it opening, and Pepper is on her feet at once. “Uncle Scar!”

  My stomach flips, but I keep my eyes fastened on the game. I do my best to clean up our Mancala mess without revealing my trembling fingers. I want to seem cool and casual, not flustered or overly interested in who just arrived and how excited it makes me.

  “Hey, Shortstop.” He lifts her into a hug, and I sit back on my heels watching his large, inked hands squeeze her small back. “What’s new?”

  She shrugs as he lowers her to her feet. “I’m learning the Konmari Method.”

  “Is that softball?”

  “No, it’s about throwing stuff away.”

  His eyebrow arches, and his amused frown totally melts me. “What do you have to throw away?”

  “Exactly.” Pepper rolls her eyes.

  He’s so confused and so handsome in a black, button-down shirt and dark jeans. His long hair is clean and tied back, and Dirk meets him in the center of the room.

  “Hey, bro. Glad you decided to join us.”

  They shake hands, and I’m sitting on the floor doing my best to breathe normally as I track him with my eyes.

  Scar nods. “I can unpack tomorrow.”

  “It’s good to have you back.” Hutch gives him a brief hug, squeezing his shoulder, and Scar grips his arm. “None of us should work alone on this case.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He turns, and our eyes meet.

  My heart squeezes, and heat floods my cheeks as his eyes move down my body and back up again in a blink.

  “Hana.” He says it as if clearing his throat.

  Pepper pops up beside him. “Did you like Hana’s cookies?”

  “Ah…” He seems unsure how to answer, and I want to die.

  Luckily Blake enters the room. “What cookies? I hope you’re not spoiling your dinner.”

  “Hana taught me to make these awesome sugar cookies. They’re like candy!” Pepper is talking loud, like she’s forgotten to be twelve. “Only three ingredients, and it just took ten minutes.”

  Chewing my bottom lip, I study my clenched hands in my lap wondering why my life is so ridiculous. Here I am, trying to be a sophisticated temptress, and cookies…

  “I know that recipe.” Blake’s voice is quiet as she sits on the sofa beside me. “Was it Debbie’s?”

  I glance up, and a spear of memory slices my stomach. It’s been less than a year since Debbie died, and the pain is still so fresh.

  My voice is quiet. “No point in burying it with her.”

  She puts her hand on my shoulder and presses her lips to my forehead. “I love you, sis. This year has been a shitshow.”

  No arguing with that. Scar’s deep voice cuts the quiet. “Hana’s cookies were delicious.”

  I blink up to see his blue eyes holding mine. He’s still guarded, but just like always, he won’t leave me hanging. I almost think he’s teasing, but it’s impossible to know.

  Still, I give him a smile. “I’m glad you liked them.”

  Lurlene bustles through the kitchen door at that moment, bellowing. “Time to eat. Take your places at the table before it gets cold.”

  Blake stands, taking Hutch’s arm as he smiles down at her. The way he looks at her sometimes is truly pornographic, but I’m the only one who seems to notice. Pepper runs to jump on Dirk’s back, and he gives her a piggyback ride to the dining room.