“Kathryn is right,” Nikki said, standing up as Kathryn struggled to get out of her chair. Yoko and Isabelle pushed back their chairs to follow suit. Alexis looked around and did the same thing.

Annie cleared her throat and pushed out of her chair, followed by Myra.

“I do believe this is what you call fish or cut bait,” Fergus hissed into Charles’s ear.

“I do believe you are right, my friend,” Charles hissed in return.

And then they were all on their feet, ready to leave the war room.

“Looks to me like you’re on your own, Miss Supreme Court Justice,” Kathryn snapped. “What’s for dinner, Charles?”

“Dinner! You’re worried about dinner! I can’t believe this!” Pearl screamed.

Kathryn, always the most outspoken, always the one who moved at the speed of light, whirled around, her face a mask of pain at the quick movement. “Yes, Pearl, I’m worried about my dinner. It doesn’t pay to worry about you because you are a selfish bitch who only thinks of herself. I’m sorry I have to admit I know you. We all came here because you said you needed us. That’s what we do, we help people who can’t help themselves. If you can’t trust us, Pearl, whom can you trust? All you want is someone to save your sorry ass, then to show your appreciation, you throw obstacles in the path of those of us who are trying to help you. Well, screw you and the horse you rode in on!”

The room and the mood turned ugly, as everyone started to talk at once. Dennis West moved closer to Harry, his idol and protector. He was almost certain the next step would be bloodshed, and he didn’t want to be the one doing the shedding.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Pearl knew she was beaten. Either she gave up her secrets or she would be left alone to deal with the immediate crisis. “All right. All right! Please, all of you, sit down, and I’ll tell you who . . . who the women are.” She closed her eyes, made the sign of the cross on her chest, and let loose with a huge sigh.

“Her name is Amalie Laurent. The other woman’s name is Rosalee Muno.”

The women, the guys as well, stared at each other, then at Pearl. “Are those names supposed to strike fear in our hearts? I never heard of either one of them,” Isabelle said.

“Who the hell are Amalie Laurent and Rosalee Muno?” Abner Tookus demanded. The others shrugged, not recognizing either name.

“The name sounds kind of familiar. Are those maiden names or married names?” Maggie asked. She looked at Ted. “Did we ever do a story on either woman, an interview?”

Ted frowned. “Sounds familiar. I’d say yes, but I can’t recall specifically.” He looked at Espinosa, who just shook his head that he didn’t remember either.

Dennis was already tapping in the names for a Google search. A moment later he said, “Laurent is the face of a French cosmetic company. La Natural. She’s married to . . . holy shit, she’s married to Lincoln Moss. Everyone in the entire universe knows who Lincoln Moss is. La Natural is the crown jewel of the man’s holdings.” He held up his iPhone so the others could see what he’d just seen. “There is nothing on the Muno woman.”