Daphne followed, setting her coffee cup down on a table as she scanned the room. Eight faces stared back at her, but one had her entire attention. With a very undignified but unapologetic squeal, she dashed across the room and threw her arms around her brother-in-law. She hadn’t seen him in twenty years, but all those years evaporated as he hugged her back.
“Thank you for making my sister so happy. If you hurt her, though, your ass is dead,” she mumbled into his ear.
He chuckled, a deeper, warmer sound now that he was a man, not a boy. “It’s not my ass I’m worried about. She’ll be home early, in about an hour, and she’snothappy that you didn’t tell her you’re here.”
“I’ll buy her a bottle of that champagne she likes, and she’ll get over it.” A look flashed across Gabe’s face. “And before you suggest she won’t be bought off, she won’t, but the girl talk that will follow when we drink it together might do the job.” She stepped back from him and stilled, letting her eyes trace his familiar features. “It really is good to see you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You both deserve this.”
He squeezed her hand back, then dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew.”
It took a few minutes to meet everyone. In addition to Gabe and Lovell, she met Scipio, Hawkeye, Superman, Juan, Dulcie, and Mantis, the club president. In the midst of the greetings, those who wanted coffee grabbed a cup from the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, a fire roared in the hearth and everyone jostled around for seats. Even Amber. She’d offered to leave them to their meeting, but Lovell insisted she stay as the events of the day impacted everyone associated with the club.
“Callie said you weren’t due to arrive for another couple of days,” Hawkeye said, taking a seat to her right. Lovell occupied the one to her left.
She took a sip of her drink before responding. “I didn’t have any reason to stay in Paris, and I felt the need to be closer to my sister, even if she wasn’t here. I figured I’d come a few days early, get over jet lag, explore her new home, that sort of thing.”
“I’m glad she did,” Lovell said. “She overheard two men at Maggie’s talking about me. Targeting me.” The room stilled, and all eyes landed on her.
“I wasn’t sure exactly what they planned, but knew it wasn’t good,” she clarified.
“Walk us through it?” Mantis requested. Daphne scanned the faces and bodies in the room. They might have their feet kicked out and hands wrapped around coffee mugs, but the sharp edge of battle vibrated through each.
It didn’t take long, but she relayed everything she overheard and saw, then answered a few questions about what she’d done after leaving the diner. Lovell picked up the narrative from the time the shot was fired, giving her a chance to sit back and assess the situation for the first time without fear or adrenaline coursing through her body.
When the talk shifted to Daisy, and who she might have hired to do her dirty work, Daphne still wasn’t sold on the theory. None of the stalkers she’d had over the years had outsourced their work; obsession was a very personal emotion. Still, she didn’t know Daisy, nor did she know the full story—the thirty-second summary Lovell gave her in the car didn’t count—so she held her tongue. Instead, she silently asked Amber if she could use her notebook. Her friend raised a brow in question, but slid it over, along with her mechanical pencil.
As theories and voices flowed around her, Daphne did her thing—she plotted. And drew. And plotted some more.
When she was satisfied with one of those two things, she tore the page from the book and handed it to Lovell, without lifting her eyes from her lists. Lists of questions, possible next steps, motivations, fatal flaws, and everything else she could think of about Lovell’s situation. She knew the difference between reality and the fiction she wrote, but more than once, she’d found that putting a story around something helped make it make sense.
“What’s this?” Lovell asked, the warmth of his breath tickling her neck.
She shifted. “The two men in the diner. The driver and the shooter. I think the white guy was the shooter, but I didn’t get a good glimpse when they passed by me. The make and model of the car is there, and an educated guess as to the year, but not the license number. The plates were from Nevada, though.”
She felt his gaze linger on her before he leaned away and handed the paper to Scipio, who sat on his other side.
“When’d you learn to draw?” Gabe asked, studying the picture when it reached him.
She looked up and shrugged. “I picked it up a few years ago.”
“Looks like you more than picked it up,” Mantis said, eyeing the images Gabe handed over.
She went back to her plotting, jotting down random thoughts and questions, as the brothers discussed sending the information to HICC. Daphne recognized the names they tossed around—Leo, Sabina, Ava, Chad, and a few others—but mostly tuned them out as she focused on her own musings.
Until Lovell said the dumbest thing she’d heard in a dog’s age.
“I’ll head out tonight. Maybe find a place near Redding or Ashland. Lure them away from Mystery Lake.”
“Now that’s a dumbass idea if I’ve ever heard one,” she muttered. The room stilled.
“Excuse me?” Lovell said.
She exhaled and shifted her attention to him. “Why would you leave?”
“They took a shot at me. On a public street. I’m not going to put people in danger by sticking around,” he responded, speaking slowly, as if his reason was obvious.
She rolled her eyes. In her experience, it was rarely worth having a debate with a man when he’d taken the position of being the “logical” one.
“What’s your concern, Daphne?” Gabe asked. Except Gabe. He’d always been reasonable. Even as a teenage boy. And she doubted that had changed much, or Callie wouldn’t have put his ring on her finger.
