Page 77 of Girl Anonymous

“Some would say that runs in the family.”

“You’re not a flirt.” She started up the front walk.

At her deliberate omission, he gave a bark of laughter and followed close on her heels.

The way he kept close to her gave the appearance of protection, but it didn’t feel like security. It felt as if he wished to keep her within arm’s length at all times. It felt like stalking. “What kind of accountant? Like, as in money laundering?”

“As in, someone who has handled all the changes in the corporation, including moving us out of money laundering and into laundromats.”

“You own laundromats?”

“No. It was a figure of speech. We buy successful companies and leave them alone to make profits, for as long as that works. Connor’s very good at recognizing graft and turning that over to me, and I handle it.” She wanted to ask if Dante whacked people, until he tacked on, “Legally. It starts with firing and ends with prosecution for their crimes.” Apparently he knew he should reassure her.

“Connor has a reputation as being mean.”

“Who told you that?”

She had to sort through all the tumultuous events of the last few weeks, and finally traced it. “Fedelma.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Fedelma is dedicated to the family. She feels she must safeguard our reputations as the most vicious sons of bitches in the Western world. As an accountant, Connor falls below that standard.”

“That is such a weird behavior. Is she a suspect?”

“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly.

She recalled Fedelma’s obvious grief. “She seemed to honestly love your mother, to be grieved by her death.”

In a flat tone he said, “You cannot know what motivated the explosion that took my mother out of the picture.”

“I guess, but—”

They arrived on the broad front porch. Dante pointed to a spot to the side. “Stand there and don’t get in the way.”

This could not be good.

He rang the bell.

The door opened and a very alive Connor said, “Dante, hey, what’s—”

Dante did that magic trick where all of a sudden he pulled his stiletto, clicked it, and aimed the point in Connor’s face.

Connor leaped out onto the porch, somehow passing the blade while landing a stunning blow to the side of Dante’s head. Dante twirled like a ballet dancer to face Connor. In a similar magic trick, Connor had a knife in his hand, pointed at Dante’s heart.

It all happened so fast Maarja was left standing, gaping in shock.

When Dante backed into the house, Connor followed. After a moment of glancing at the car and thinking that this would be a good time to make her exit, that trust between her and Dante reared its ugly head and she followed the men through the foyer into the living room.

She should get a medal of bravery, or at least a ribbon for being not the brightest.

The house inside was welcoming, with comfortable furniture, rugs that splashed colors and natural fibers across the oak floors.

Connor was all growling guard dog. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, coming to my home, blade pointed at my throat?”

“Fucking traitor set me up to die like a horse driven off a cliff. Me and my woman.”

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