And Graham expected Lyrica to wait, knowing her mother could be in danger soon? Knowing her mother was worrying for her? She hadn’t even been able to talk to her mother or Zoey in the time Graham had kept her hidden. She had only seen her two older sisters because their fiancés were working with Graham on the investigation.

Pulling the pickup into the driveway of the inn, she was relieved to see that Carmina’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Timothy’s pickup was there, as well as her mother’s sedan and Zoey’s beat-up, too-fast, older-model Mustang.

Guests were normally absent through the middle of the day. Sightseeing, shopping, and other activities kept them busy, which left the inn reasonably quiet.

She was already throwing open the door to the pickup as it rocked to a stop. Running the short distance to the steps leading to the wraparound porch, she was certain she would hear the Viper racing behind her at any second.

Pulling open the door and rushing into the foyer, she quickly moved through the dining room to the kitchen.

It was empty, and that was unusual. Her mother was normally in the kitchen in the afternoons with whichever daughter was helping her that day, going over the next morning’s menu and preparing a light dinner for guests returning that evening.

The realization that she wasn’t there had fear sending Lyrica quickly to the other end of the kitchen, where Timothy kept a handgun holstered beneath the wide lip of a prep counter. Reaching beneath the counter, she found the holster empty.

Ice formed in her veins.

Secondary.

He’d placed a secondary in the kitchen after the trouble her sisters had faced the year before. Her mother was usually in the kitchen and Timothy wanted a backup that no one was aware of. Lyrica had been there when he’d placed it, but her mother hadn’t been. He’d warned her not to tell her mother because Mercedes tended to be very nervous in the areas where the weapons were hidden.

Moving silently, her gaze returning often to the dining room entrance, she went to her knees, quickly opened the lower cabinet doors hidden behind the prep area, reached up, and found the smaller-size Glock holstered there.

Extra clip, god love Tim’s over-prepared heart. Still kneeling, she pulled the weapon and ammo clips free and shoved the extra clip into her back pocket. Watching the entrance from between the boxes of dry supplies stacked beneath the prep counter, she chambered the first round as quietly as possible before rising to her knees and pushing the weapon into the band of her jeans.

Smoothing her T-shirt over the gun, she fought back the fear as she had when she was younger. She buried it beneath the knowledge that if she didn’t act, if she didn’t do what had to be done, then the consequences could be more than she could bear.

Before she could begin straightening, a scraping at the back door caused her to freeze. She eased back to retrieve the weapon she’d tucked into the band of her pants. Holding it in a two-handed grip, the barrel pointing to the floor, she peeped around the counter, her heart thundering in her chest as she watched the door slowly ease open. Mouth dry, her throat tight with the knowledge that whoever was coming in was coming in way too slow assailed her.

The house was too quiet. A heavy sense of impending danger seemed to slide through the air like a bad smell. Even the slight breeze that slid through the door as it swung slowly open couldn’t dispel the heaviness in the air.

No one stood in the doorway, though. For a moment, it looked as though a ghost had opened it.

“Lyrica, shoot us and I’ll crack your ass.” It was all she could do to hold back her sob at the sound of Dawg’s voice.

Dawg wasn’t the only one who stepped quietly into the kitchen. He came in, his stance watchful, covering the two men who moved in behind him.

Straightening slowly, she did nothing to hide the weapon she was carrying.

“Timothy’s spare weapon is missing,” she whispered, knowing Dawg was aware of the hidden positions of the guns. “The backup he placed beneath the cabinet last year was still in place, but I was the only one here when he placed it.”

Dawg nodded, his pale green eyes watching the dining room doorway carefully. “And he told you to keep it to yourself.”

She licked her dry lips nervously, all too aware of the fact that Graham’s eyes had flickered to the weapon she still held.

“Timothy, Mercedes, and Zoey aren’t answering their cell phones,” Natches stated softly. “Have you seen them? Heard anything?”

She shook her head. “There was no way to miss the fact that I arrived, though.”

Dawg’s gaze moved to her for a moment before turning back to the dining room entrance.

“Then you’re the only one he’ll expect,” Dawg murmured.

“Timothy’s security system has every room covered, except bedrooms,” Graham stated softly, his gaze still locked on her. “They’ll know we’re here.”

Dawg shook his head at that. “When I couldn’t reach him, I instigated a fail-safe he has installed.”

“Paranoid bastard,” Natches muttered. “Especially since hooking up with Mercedes.”

“Love does that to a man,” Dawg growled, glancing back for a second, his expression hard, his gaze furious.

Graham remained silent.

“Zoey’s not screaming,” she whispered, moving closer to them. “You know Zoey, Dawg.”

That terrified her. Zoey would rush hell with a bucket of water for their mother. And she would do it loudly. She may be a recluse, she may try every excuse in the world to avoid family, but she never avoided her mother, and now that her older sisters were no longer at the inn, she was there every morning and every evening to help Mercedes.

“I know Zoey,” he agreed. “But she’s not foolish, either.”

“Let’s get this taken care of,” Graham ordered then, his own voice still below a whisper. “I have other things to do.”

He had another flavor to find, no doubt.

Flicking him a contemptuous glance, Lyrica turned back to her brother, aware of Natches watching her carefully.

“If you ask me to leave, then I might shoot one of you.” Her first choice wasn’t family, either.

Dawg grunted at that. “Give things time, little girl. We have other interested parties moving into place. I’m just waiting for them to get ready.” He touched his ear, revealing the small, almost invisible Bluetooth earbud he wore, which she knew was linked to a central radio.

They were moving through.

Natches moved slowly into the room and the door was closed silently before he and Dawg moved to either side of the door leading to the dining room. The dining room would be their warning, she thought as she watched them from the side. Anyone coming from the stairs would be within sight of the doorway leading to the foyer, directly across from the kitchen. Anyone coming from the hallway entrances to the guest suites had to pass by the dining room.

“Plan?” Natches murmured then.

Dawg’s eyes narrowed. “We spread out and find them.”

“Timothy would be in his office right now,” Lyrica stated. “Mom should have been here in the kitchen with Zoey. If someone has them, then they’ll be together upstairs.”

Dawg nodded slowly as he said, “Did you get that?” His gaze narrowed. “Check it out.”

Lyrica’s eyes narrowed on Natches then. Shifting her weapon to a one-handed grip, she held out her other hand demandingly. She wanted her own link.

His gaze flickered icily, and a second later he gave a negative movement of his head.

They were going to push her out. The hard flash of pain that seared her chest was surprising. It shouldn’t have been.

Before she could pull her hand back, Graham reached out and dropped one in her palm, the almost clear bud lying innocently in her hand as he glared down at her.

Natches’s curse was a sibilant hiss as she curled her fist around the earbud, maneuvered it between her fingers, and tucked it in her ear. Once it was in place, she pressed the activation button at the end and waited.