“Angel can’t get eyes in the office,” Tracker stated softly through the link. “Rowdy, can you override the window darkening?”

“That’s all internal,” Rowdy answered soberly.

Lyrica tucked the Glock in the back of her pants, listening as Rowdy and Tracker discussed the best way they could possibly override the controls for the window darkening.

It wasn’t possible, Lyrica knew that. Timothy had always felt that whatever trouble came inside the inn couldn’t be as dangerous as what could be waiting outside the window of his office on any given day.

But there was another direct line of sight into the room that would afford a view of everything but the exact area where his desk sat. Should anything happen, Mercedes and her daughters knew they were to stay behind that line. If they came upon the office and the sliding doors that led to it from the hall and from the attached bedroom were open, then they were to get out of the house.

Fast.

“There’s two other views in if there’s trouble,” Lyrica stated softly, quickly explaining the line of sight into the office.

“Checking.” Hard, without emotion, a female voice came over the line.

“I have sight from the west,” a male voice answered. “Sliding door retracted, no one in sight.”

“Sight from the south,” said the female long moments later. “Door retracted, no one home.”

Lyrica shook her head.

The small area where it was possible to hide would have been large enough for Timothy, her mother, and Zoey. It would have been crowded, but very possible. Of course, no enemy would have much of a chance if they were that close to Tim.

She swallowed tightly.

Someone was there. Wherever her family was being held, they were no doubt being held. She knew it from the absence of the weapon normally hidden under the prep counter, the doors left open to create the view into his office, the utter silence in the house.

She waited.

Dawg, Natches, and Graham were too focused on the doorway at the moment.

“Options?” Tracker asked.

Graham’s gaze shifted to Dawg’s, Natches shook his head, and he blinked.

Lyrica moved quickly, rushing through the doorway into the dining room and sliding out of their reach.

“Wait!” she hissed when Graham moved to follow her.

He paused, but his expression assured her that only surprise had him pausing.

“They don’t know you’re here.” She kept her voice at a breath of sound then tapped her ear. “You’re with me. Cover me.”

Graham was shaking his head.

“Can you do this, little sister?” Dawg asked somberly. “Are you sure?”

“No.” Before Graham could pass through the doorway, both Dawg and Natches were blocking him.

“Back off,” Natches hissed.

“Lyrica?” Dawg asked again.

“You two taught me,” she whispered. “You taught me how to do this, just in case. Right?”

They’d taught her and her sisters how to help them protect or rescue them. Dawg, Natches, and Rowdy had also taught them how to play the decoy if they had to.

This was a have-to, she thought.

“No,” Graham growled again as Dawg stared back at her for long, tense seconds.

If he didn’t agree with it, then Natches would make sure it didn’t happen.

“Did you think she was a little china doll we just wrapped up in cotton and sat on a shelf to look pretty, Graham?” Dawg asked then, his gaze still holding Lyrica’s.

“No, I didn’t,” Graham snarled, furious. “She’s not a soldier, either, nor is she a trained agent.”

Turning to him slowly, she saw something in his expression that had her throat tightening. He was concerned, furious, worried. She might be more than a flavor, but still, she was far less than what she needed to be to him.

“It’s not your choice,” she whispered.

His jaw jumped in rage. “Get hurt, and it won’t be your choice when I kill these two fuckers!”

Natches and Dawg glanced at each other, concern flickering across their expressions, urging her to move, warning her that they were no more than a second or two from changing their minds.

And didn’t that make sense?

Why would Graham’s threat bother them when he hadn’t concerned them until now?

Turning, she moved quickly away from them and strode through the dining room and into the foyer.

“Mom? Tim?” she called out, as though confused. “I need to talk to you. Where are you? Zoey?”

Her sister. Her baby sister. Zoey had suffered the most at Chandler’s hands, though none of them had ever understood why. She was the one he had struck at every opportunity. The one her mother had had to wait the longest to have returned to her when they were taken away. But Zoey was a fighter. She was the temperamental one, the one most likely to spit in the face of an assailant.

“Zoey? Dammit, where the hell are you?” she called out, anger covering the fear as she started up the stairs.

“Easy,” Dawg murmured at her ear. Graham wasn’t speaking.

Where was he? Had he left?

Would he desert her now?

“Lyrica,” the voice announced as she reach the top of the stairs and Kevin Davis stepped from the family’s private living room.

“Kevin.” She forced herself to smile, to stare back at him as though pleasantly surprised. “Where is everyone?”

He frowned, scratching his head, his brown eyes giving a damned good impression of confusion. “I’ll be damned if I know, Lyrica. I made it back early and wanted to surprise Carmina.” Propping his hands on his hard hips, he looked around, frowning. “No one’s here.”

“Did you check Tim’s office?” She moved past him to stride up the hall, expecting him to stop her at any minute.

“I’ve been through every room, Lyrica,” he announced from behind her. “Even the office. Do they usually leave the house unlocked when they leave?”

“Something’s wrong,” Natches muttered, whether to her or to the others, she wasn’t certain.

The office was empty. “Did you open the other doors?” she asked, moving to the retractable door between Tim’s office and the personal suite Tim and her mother shared.

“They were all closed.” He sighed. “I left them open just in case there was a problem.”

She turned to him slowly. “Did you expect problems?” she asked.

“The last time I was here there was a weapon hid in the living room and one in the dining room,” he said. “They’re not there now.”

He didn’t mention the kitchen.

“Mom’s, Tim’s, and Zoey’s cars are outside,” she said.

“Carmina’s is parked in the back,” he told her, his expression hard, suspicious. The type of look her brother or cousins got when they were concerned.

What was he up to?

She could hear Dawg and the others in the background, their voices hushed as they discussed the situation and Kevin’s part in it. He was a damned good actor if nothing else, because if she didn’t know better, she would swear he was innocent.

“Lyrica.” He reached out for her then, causing her to jump back from him, her gaze going to his outstretched arm as he slowly pulled back.

His eyes narrowed on her.

“I know Tim’s ex-DHS,” he said so softly it was all she could do to hear him. “Something’s wrong. He wouldn’t leave his private office open otherwise.”

“This is his home,” she said warily. “Why shouldn’t he?”

The look on his face and slow movement of his head from side to side was knowing, but there was a cold gleam to his eyes as well.

“Whatever you say. I just want to find Carmina. That’s all that matters to me.”

And she believed him.

“Careful, Lyrica,” Natches warned her softly. “Angel detected movement in the basement. See if you can get him to head downstairs and we’ll take over.”

“Have you checked the basement?” Something was wrong here. She couldn’t figure out what it was, but something was wrong.

He shook his head slowly, his head turning to look down the hall.

“I’ll check it.” And she prayed he would follow.