I’m going to pay a visit to Mr. O’Bannion and Mr. Kennedy. He wasn’t sure where to find Kennedy, but he knew exactly where Mr. O’Bannion was—Mercy West, recovering from being shot last night.

Grant flipped the book to the first page and began taking photos. If he was comfortable with Stone and Diesel, he’d hand over the documentation.

He just needed to figure out how to get close enough to Stone O’Bannion to have a private conversation. His gaze drifted to his brother’s secret closet. And Grant thought he just might have an idea.

Cincinnati, Ohio
Monday, March 18, 3:45 p.m.

Diesel glanced out of the corner of his eye when the sofa cushion next to him depressed—too gently, actually. Michael could use a good fifteen or twenty pounds to get to a healthy weight.

He’d felt the boy’s eyes on him for the last few minutes, but had waited for Michael to come to him. The kid had had a shock that morning and had tried valiantly to hide it, eating his cheese sandwich like he hadn’t just been told his mother had been murdered.

He hadn’t been successful, of course. Diesel was an expert on valiantly hiding his hurts and he’d seen right through the boy’s attempted nonchalance.

Of course, Marcus saw right through mine, too. So maybe Diesel wasn’t as good at hiding as he’d thought.

He finally looked up and gave Michael a smile. “Hey.”

Michael was frowning at Diesel’s hands. “Are you . . . knitting?”

Diesel looked at the knitting needles he held. He put his project in his lap, glanced at his laptop to confirm that Ritz was still cracking passwords, then gave Michael his full attention.

“Yes. You wanna learn?”

Michael blinked at him. “But . . . girls knit.”

Diesel gave himself an exaggerated once-over. “I’m knitting,” he signed, “so that’s obviously not true. It wouldn’t be true anyway. Some of the most famous designers are men. And some of the most dangerous women I know are knitters. You met Kate last night, right?”

“Yeah,” Michael answered cautiously. “Married to Decker, owns Cap, the therapy dog. Captain America decals on her nails.”

Diesel grinned. “That’s her. She taught me how to knit. It’s a stress reliever for me. Plus, it helps me focus when my brain’s going all Sonic the Hedgehog.”

Michael’s lips twitched at the reference. “Kate said the same thing when she was knitting last night. Said she was making a sweater for Cap. He’s getting old and his bones get cold. What are you making?”

“Socks.” He really had made far too many pairs of mittens while pining for Dani and figured it was time for a change. “Yarn’s soft.” He held the ball of yarn out to Michael, who tentatively touched it with one finger, then smiled.