Page 18 of Queen's Ransom

Chris picked up the book and held it out to Marco. “Why don’t you take this out to the patio and read with your sister?”

“But I’d rather—”

“Let it go, bro,” Mia shouted from the other room. She’d shifted on the chaise, turned half-toward them. “That’s code for ‘The adults need to chat.’”

Celia had figured her daughter’s future involved copious amounts of flour. She was a gifted baker, as clear as it had been the day their cousin Angelica had first picked up a rolling pin. But moment’s like this made Celia wonder if she’d follow in her uncle’s investigator footsteps.

Marco grumbled a protest as he slid out of the booth.

“Fifteen minutes.” Chris gave him a push toward the patio. “Then you can help with dinner and go back to avoiding Gilgamesh.”

He raised his arms in victory. “Deal!”

“Not helping,” Celia chided, then to Mia, “Make sure he reads the assigned chapter. Quiz him. I’m sure you remember the material.”

Mia’s dark eyes gleamed with older-sister delight, and Celia thought Marco might balk. Mia didn’t give him a chance, pushing closed the French door before he could reverse out of the room.

“I like her,” Helena said. “More and more every day.”

Laughing, Chris grabbed two mugs from the drying rack next to the sink and the half-full coffee pot and brought them to the table. He topped off Celia’s cup, filled his own and Helena’s, then retrieved a bottle of Irish whiskey from one of the cabinets.

“News is that good, huh?” Celia asked as Chris poured a generous shot into each mug.

“Ma,” Chris said. “You want to take a break?”

“I’m loving family weekend,” she said as she continued to knead the pasta dough. “I’ve never had such a big kitchen to work in. But I know that’s not all there is to it.”

“There was an incident at the shop yesterday.”

“I figured.” She paused her work to glance at Helena. “Thank you for keeping her safe.” Then to Chris, “And all of you for having us this weekend.”

He tipped the bottle toward her. “You sure?”

She waved him off. “Get on with it.”

“I see where you get the no-nonsense from,” Helena said, nudging Celia’s shoulder. “And, Gloria, you’re welcome to use our kitchen anytime.”

“Oh, I plan too,” she said with a wink.

Chris sank onto the bench Marco had vacated. “First,” he aimed his gaze at Helena, “tell me about August Ferriello.”

“I knew you couldn’t let that go.”

“Tell me why I should.”

“He’s not a threat,” Helena said. “To you or the family. That’s all you need to know.”

Chris stared Helena down for another few seconds, and when she didn’t flinch, he lowered his shoulders and shifted his gaze to Celia. “I got the receipts for the parts. It was Lenny who bought them.”

“Of course it was Lenny.” Celia braced her elbows on the table and raked her hands through her hair.

“The same Lenny you two went to school with?” Gloria asked.

“Yep,” Chris answered. “Still worthless.”

Celia clasped her hands behind her neck, gathering her hair into a ponytail. “I told Dex that guy was bad news.”

A gentle yet reassuring hand landed on her back. “You put him on your list,” Helena said. “General bad vibes or something specific?”

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