* * * * *

Lee studied the note from Meena.

We were at Fortnum’s standing way at the back in the religion section. We were there because we needed optimum Fortnum’s privacy and this was the best there was. The religion section, right or wrong, didn’t see a lot of action.

Lee looked from the note to me.

“This is not good,” he stated.

“I know,” I replied.

“Ally—”

I leaned into him. “I need your help.”

He stared at me.

I kept talking. “It’s bad there, Lee. The vibe is total shit. The girls are scared out of their minds. Roam has seen Steiner take money from dancers and waitresses. I haven’t seen anyone else in the club who was giving me the willies, but my guess is that when Meena said there were eyes all around, she didn’t just mean Steiner and his partner. Something has to be done about that, and soon. Smithie’s in danger and, bottom line, this is bigger than me.”

Lee just kept staring at me.

So I kept talking.

“If you don’t want to take the case, then I need some of your guys. I need more of Brody’s time. I’ll pay them and—”

Lee cut me off. “It’s not about the case.”

“Then why are you hesitating?” I asked. “This is Smithie.”

He stared at me another beat and right before I lost my patience, he stated, “We’ll get into the why later. Right now, I’m gonna make some calls and get some boys in the field, focus Brody. I’ll call you when we got something and we’ll have a meeting. Yeah?”

We’d have a meeting?

We?

Me, my brother, and his team?

I didn’t ask. I didn’t do cartwheels. I didn’t grab him and do a girlie hug.

I just nodded and said, “Yeah.”

“Roam and Sniff off this thing?” he asked.

“Darius called them down when Gibbons entered the picture,” I answered.

“Good,” he muttered, looked at the note again and back at me. “Got shit to do. Keep your phone on you.”

I nodded.

He gave me nothing; not a look, not a smile, not a thing, and he was gone.

I wandered out of the books, got to the front and saw Daisy with her Juicy Couture covered ass in a couch with a laptop on her lap surrounded by Jet, Roxie, Stella and Sadie (not in Juicy Couture, and Stella’s awesome rock tee was making me nostalgic for my collection that was destroyed by an explosion).

Time to hit some concerts. Then again, it was always time to hit some concerts.

Daisy looked up and spied me.

“Sugar, get over here!” she called excitedly. “Roxie’s put some website ideas together and brought them in.”

“They’re all the bomb,” Stella said as I moved that way, curious to see and also feeling that feeling I was getting to know and oh-so-definitely loved flowing through me.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna pick,” Jet told me.

Sadie moved to an armchair so I could squish between Daisy and Stella.

“Here’s one,” Daisy stated then clicked. “And the next.” Another click. “And the third,” she said. “Aren’t they amazing?”

They were.

Every one.

Totally.

I looked across Daisy to Roxie. “They’re righteous.”

Roxie grinned. “I’m pretty pleased with them.” Her eyes moved to the screen. “Though, you need a name. It’s hard for Ava and me to come up with looks and color schemes if you don’t have a company title.”

“Rock Chick Investigations,” I announced and felt all eyes on me. “Colors, hot pink and black.”

“Aces,” Sadie breathed.

I looked at her and grinned. “I know, right?”

“That’s perfect,” Jet said.

“Hot pink and black, like the book,” Roxie pointed out.

I moved my eyes to her and nodded.

As if on cue, Tex boomed from behind the espresso counter, “Loopy Loo! B.A.! You feel like workin’ or you gonna hen peck all day?” He looked to Duke who was beside him. “And where’s Jane? Indy’s at home hurlin’. Loopy Loo’s in the bathroom all the time. We need f**kin’ help.”

He stopped booming long enough to point at me before he started up again.

“You! B.A.! You got a man in your bed now, you get pregnant, I’m quittin’.”

The customer waiting at the end of the counter for her coffee turned to me and immediately begged, “Please don’t get pregnant. My life sucks. All I have to look forward to every day is this crazy guy’s coffee. If he quits, what will I do?”

“I’m not getting pregnant,” I assured her and she looked visibly relieved. I then turned my attention to Tex. “And you’ve only got two customers. You and Duke can handle it.”

“I got two customers, but I’m low on mugs. You want me to fill ‘em, you wash ‘em. I don’t wash. I fill. That’s the deal,” Tex shot back (loudly). “So get to clearin’ and cleanin’.”

This was true.

Still, I was doing something.

I was also curious.

“What’s with the B.A. shit?” I asked.

“Bad,” Tex pointed at me, “Ass.”

Holy crap!

I loved that!

I was Fortnum’s own Mr. T, except white, female and without the Mohawk.

Righteous!

“You know,” Jet put in. “Because Indy’s not here doesn’t make you the boss. If anyone’s the boss, it’s Duke.”

Tex turned to Duke and declared (again loudly), “I don’t wash.”

“Man, been workin’ beside you two years. I know you don’t wash. I don’t care that you don’t wash. What I do care about is you shoutin’ at me when I’m two feet away. And don’t shout at the girls either. They’ll get to the empties.” Duke shook his head. “Jesus. You just got married a few days ago. You’d think connin’ a good woman into takin’ your name would get you to cool it.”

“You got married?” the customer Duke was handing coffee asked Tex and didn’t wait for an answer before she said, “Congratulations.”

“Shut it,” Tex boomed.

“Tex!” Jet snapped.

“What?” he snapped back.