Page 23 of Bullet

I see how he struggles not to laugh at my suggestions. “I don’t know that investments are the right level for us.”

“Real estate is a big deal. Commercial landlords make a lot of money. There are also condos and apartment rentals or you could buy the land and act as the developer. If that’s too much, casinos, clubs, the usual, not just here in Hart, but elsewhere.”

“It’s the underground aspect of those businesses that make all the money.”

I don’t have to respond. My answer is there in the silence.

I finish everything for the pie crust, form the dough into a large ball, and slip it into the stainless-steel fridge.

The apples are easier and much more fragrant. It’s the cinnamon, of course, but the aroma of the lemon juice that keeps them from browning and adds that extra little bit of unexpected tartness to offset the sweetness always makes my mouth water.

“Real estate is more than legit and can turn some huge profits both in sales, buildings, and rentals,” I say. “The money could be invested in other markets. They’re risky, but everyone knows they can pay out.”

I’m done with the apples by the time I finally get a cautious response. “It’s an interesting idea.”

Cautious? I should probably say polite. I don’t have to look up from what I’m mixing to know his face is probably arranged the same impenetrable way mine usually is.

“You have to fight fire with fire. Or in this case, take away any knowledge Harold thinks he has and reduce his advantage.” I give my closing line as I take the ball of dough out of the fridge, ready to roll it out.

Other people are probably fussy about refrigeration time, but my mom could never wait, and it’s her recipe that I’m following. Some people don’t even refrigerate at all. They just roll the dough straight from the bowl after cutting all the ingredients together with a fork, which I actually did.

Hamish clears his throat so roughly that my head jerks up. He looks like he’s just been chained down on top of an ant colony, naked, smeared in honey.

“Funny you should mention fire,” he chokes out.

“There’s that word again. Funny. What did he burn down?”

“My gun range. The only one in Hart.”

“What?” Thank goodness the dough is safely on the counter. If I’d been holding it, I would have dropped it. I’ve lost all interest in the pie. My lawyer senses are already tingling, and my brain is whirring hard. That’s what he meant on the phone when he said that things had escalated. “If you have proof that it was him, why hasn’t he been arrested?”

“There’s no proof. He’s not that careless or stupid. He hired someone, no doubt.”

No doubt. I should know how these things work. “Is there any footage? Do you know what they looked like?”

“There’s footage before the cameras cooked, since the feeds come back here live, but they’re dressed entirely in black right down to the masks they wore. All we have is their height, but from the camera angles, it would really just be a guess. The range was at the edge of town, and they walked up. Probably parked miles away just in case, and I’m sure they’ve already dumped and torched the car.”

I prop my hip against the counter, using it for support. “This is serious.”

“Yes, it is.” He rises slowly, like a massive predator unfolding. I’ve never felt like I’ve been the prey until this very second. It’s the way he pins me with unblinking, intense focus that makes me feel like a small animal in his sights. “I’m serious about you working here. I’m serious about you having the means to work independently so that you can represent me. I doubt anyone else would be willing to take on this fight.”

That seems rather selfish, even though I know that’s not truly how it’s meant to be taken. He’s just being honest.

“What if I’m not willing? What if I want to bail?”

He doesn’t seem surprised, but at the same time, he doesn’t take a threatening pose with me, or get that hard look on his face that demands I do something I don’t want to. He manages to sound encouraging. “You’ve already come this far.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to put myself or my sister at risk. I’ve already lost my job. I don’t even want to think how much more I could lose.” That’s not a question any sane person can ask themselves. Plus, his range was burned down. How much more personal could that get?

“You could both move here. We could make sure you’re safe.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s all starting to trickle down, just how much this could cost me. “As kind as the offer is, that would be a hard no. If I open up anything, I’ll be a target. Am I a target in more ways than just career suicide?”

“I don’t want to think like that, but now that we’re going there, I do think it’s best if you and Willa moved here, just for thetime being. You could rent out your house or we could pay your mortgage.”

I shake my head stubbornly, annoyed that I feel like the one who’s refusing to see reason. This isn’t a done deal. “That’s not an option. Willa is going to college.”

“We have colleges here. Smaller community colleges, but they’re good, from what I’ve heard.”