Scarlett’s appraisal was cool. ‘You expected to need an attorney?’

‘Rex is also Lisette’s ex-husband,’ Marcus explained. ‘We all grew up together. It was an amicable divorce.’

Scarlett lifted a sarcastic brow. ‘I am so glad to hear that.’ Rolling her eyes, she held up her phone so that everyone could see the time. ‘It has now been an hour since the man you all claim to care for was attacked and left for dead. I have wasted precious minutes listening to you whine and point fingers. If anyone is willing to give me something that will help me catch the SOB who shot your friend’ – she turned to Lisette – ‘and your brother, just let me know. I’ll be in the hallway. Talk amongst yourselves.’

No one said a word as she turned to go, dropping their gazes to the floor while Marcus bit back a frustrated roar. Scarlett was right. One hundred percent. Phillip could die and they were acting like selfish, stupid children.

‘They’re protecting me,’ he told her, cutting off Stone’s protest with a look. ‘Let’s find a private room and I’ll tell you.’

She just looked at him over her shoulder. ‘Don’t waste my time, Marcus.’

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter who did what. I’m the boss and I did all the dicey stuff. I can walk you through the list and explain why we’re being . . . stupid.’

Slowly she pivoted on her heel, those midnight-blue eyes never leaving his. She didn’t believe him, but that didn’t matter at this point. ‘All right. Come with me.’

Diesel lurched to his feet and Scarlett blinked, her eyes growing wider as they followed him up and up. Diesel had that effect on everyone.

‘That’s bullshit,’ he barked, darting a quick glance at Gayle. ‘Sorry,’ he said meekly.

Gayle shook her head wearily. ‘I’m not your mother, Diesel. Thank God for that.’

Scarlett took a step back so that she didn’t have to crane her neck to see Diesel’s face. ‘I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,’ she said.

‘Diesel,’ Marcus said, ‘Detective Scarlett Bishop. Scarlett, this is Diesel Kennedy.’

‘Mr Kennedy,’ she said. ‘Why is this bullshit?’

Diesel jerked his head toward Marcus. ‘He’s gonna take the fall when I am just as guilty. Probably more so.’

Stone stood up with a sigh. ‘And me.’

‘Me too,’ Lisette whispered.

‘And me,’ Cal said. ‘I’m Calvin Booker, the Ledger’s editor-in-chief. Everything goes through me.’

Diesel shrugged, his jaw tight, expression challenging Marcus to disagree. ‘Looks like we are Spartacus,’ he drawled.

Stone rolled his eyes. ‘Shove it, Diesel.’

‘Both of you shove it,’ Marcus snapped, then pointed to Gayle. ‘She’s not involved.’

‘She knows nothing,’ Cal added. ‘She just types memos.’

‘That’s not true,’ Gayle protested. ‘I know everything because I type the memos.’

‘You’re Spartacus too, ma’am?’ Scarlett asked politely, and Marcus felt the insane urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny. None of this was funny. These idiot friends of his were going to get themselves in trouble, and they didn’t have to. He’d be damned before he dragged Gayle into it.

‘No,’ Marcus, Stone, Diesel, Cal and Lisette said in unison.

Gayle sighed in angry frustration. ‘Suit yourselves. You’re all crazy, you know that? I’ll be bringing you cakes with files in them. How will you like that?’

‘Make mine chocolate,’ Diesel said, and Gayle dropped her face into her hands.

‘I’ll still want to talk to you even though you don’t know anything, ma’am,’ Scarlett said, then turned to Jill. ‘And to you.’

‘I got nothing to say. I didn’t do anything,’ Jill said with a shrug.

‘Then why don’t you and your aunt just wait over here,’ Scarlett said, motioning them to a sofa in the corner. ‘I need to find us a private room. Don’t worry,’ she added to Lisette. ‘I’ll make sure they bring us news of your brother as soon as he’s out of surgery.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 10.00 P.M.

Scarlett stood back as Marcus’s troop found places around the table in the small doctor–patient consulting room. Marcus looked positively grim – and angry with his employees. He’d wanted to take all the blame on his shoulders, which hadn’t surprised Scarlett in the least.

That his people had stood with him said more about their loyalty to Marcus than their desire to tell the truth, but it didn’t really matter as long as the truth was what she got. She was giving Phillip’s attacker more time to escape or plan another attack with every second that ticked away. Part of her wished Deacon were here to help with this, but another part was glad he’d stayed at the crime scene with Agent Coppola. Scarlett wasn’t sure if she could stomach any more testosterone. The room was practically reeking with it.

‘Are we comfortable?’ she asked, and watched Stone O’Bannion roll his eyes.

‘No we are not,’ he muttered. ‘But we are here, so let’s get on with it.’

‘Thank you,’ Lisette said to her. ‘For stationing the policeman outside of the operating room. I feel like Phillip’s a little safer, anyway.’

Scarlett’s smile was sympathetic. ‘It was no trouble.’ She’d had to ask for someone to watch Jill and Gayle, anyway. She didn’t want them speaking to each other or anyone else without a police witness. She’d positioned it as having a guard keeping an eye on Gayle for her own protection. ‘I have brothers,’ she added. ‘And I do know what you’re going through. One of my brothers was shot a few years ago. They operated on him in this hospital, in fact. We all took turns standing guard outside his room until we could bring him home.’

‘Is he all right?’ Lisette asked, then winced when Scarlett hesitated to answer. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, Detective. I didn’t know.’

‘No,’ Scarlett said quickly, understanding the woman’s confusion. ‘He lived. The surgeons here are very good. He just . . . Phin’s a vet, and it happened after he came home. We were relieved that he was finally safe, and then he got shot in a bar fight.’ She shrugged a shoulder. ‘We haven’t seen him for a long time, so I’m not sure how to answer your question. I hope he’s okay. But we’ve drifted off topic.’

It had not been unintentional. Nothing she’d shared was a secret. Hell, the Ledger had probably carried the story of Phin’s debacle, which had started with an argument over a woman. Naturally. Phin had always had a temper, even before the war. The Ledger probably had several articles on him. She’d shared Phin’s past with Lisette in hopes of creating a bond with the woman who had the most to lose – her brother was not safe until his attacker was behind bars.

Neither was Marcus. So Lisette Cauldwell isn’t the only one with a lot to lose. Scarlett couldn’t let herself think about what might have happened had Marcus arrived at his apartment first. He’d be the one in surgery right now.

She took the empty seat between Marcus and Diesel, the giant who’d been first to share the blame. The man’s shoulders took up his space and half of hers, but she didn’t budge, forcing him to scoot his chair over a few inches. This caused a ripple effect as everyone moved their chairs, because Stone was on Diesel’s right and his shoulders were nearly as wide. She waited until all the chairs had stopped moving and everyone settled.

‘I assume this involves the Ledger in some way,’ she began. From her jacket pocket she pulled the list Marcus had printed up earlier that day. It seemed like a year ago. ‘These are the threats I know about.’ She looked up at Marcus. ‘I also assume this is a . . . truncated list. If you’d sent me the real one, I would have had it minutes after you sent the video files. Yes?’

He nodded, his face flushed with color, making him look like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I thought it would be for the best. I guess I thought wrong.’