“Your room was on the fourth floor?” Roy said.

“Yes. The one that is now in rubble,” Ziggy said. She sighed. Turned to RJ. “No wonder you pack light.”

But RJ didn’t say anything. Just kept staring at the carnage.

“RJ?”

“It’s just weird that the room blows up after we arrive here. In the room right below us. What if it has nothing to do with Director Grey and…” She looked at him. “I keep thinking about that bounty.”

He stared at her, nonplussed. “You know—” His gaze turned to Roy, who held up a hand.

“Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, Roy. York should have told me.” RJ shot York a look.

A beat, then, “You’re right. I should have. I just didn’t want—”

“To scare me. I get it. Fear not, I’m plenty scared without the bounty bonus round.”

Right. He looked at the hotel, the flames coughing from the roof, the upper windows. “That’s an awful lot of trouble to try and kill me. Besides how would they collect? You need a body. Pictures, at least.”

She drew in her breath so sharply he realized he shouldn’t have said that.

“Sorry —”

“Nope. I get it. And I agree. It’s just…it makes me nervous.”

It made him nervous, too, because RJ’s question had him thinking—what if they hadn’t been quiet enough last night and Winchester Marshall had found out where they were going? If he was in league with Martin…

Well maybe a body or a picture didn’t matter as long as York was out of the picture.

“We need to get back to the villa,” York said. “Let’s get to the car.”

She nodded, and maybe, as usual, she was reading his mind.

He hoped so.

“There goes my bath,” she said. “And I bought a very cute LBD for tonight.”

Or not.

“My keys are in the room,” Ziggy said with a sigh. “Unless you can hotwire a BMW X6.”

He longed for the easy days of hotwiring cars. Instead, York pulled out his cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Logan. We need a ride.”

Two hours later, he sat in the back of an SUV that Logan had rented at the airport, having gotten his message. Roy sat in the front passenger seat, catching their boss up on the recent events—and fails.

RJ sat in the back seat, head down, using Logan’s cell phone to search the web and send messages back to her sister, Coco, as she sorted out information about the attack on the internet, and other sources.

Ziggy was leaning forward in the bucket seat, also listening to Roy, adding color where he needed it.

But York’s brain was back on Winchester Marshall. The fact that man had known—

“Oh my gosh—Coco is right.”