André chuckled. “That’s a car no one can miss.”

Rafe smiled with affection for his sister. “Sasha likes to make a splash wherever she goes. The garage door code is programmed into the Tahoe, in case you drive it. You’ll find extra blankets and pillows in the closet, and the deli down the street delivers. There’s a magnet with their number on the fridge and a shit ton of take-out menus in the kitchen drawer.”

“I don’t think food is going to be an issue. Your mother gave us enough for a week.”

Rafe smiled at that, too. “Mom cooks when she’s anxious, but I think you guessed that for yourself. Let me or Sasha know if you need anything else. And get some rest, okay?”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue, either. Thanks, Rafe.”

“You got it. Do you know what Farrah’s plans are? I assume she’ll go back to New Orleans as soon as possible. Her family must need her.” He’d been wondering that all the way back to the house.

“I don’t know. She’s pretty attached to Mercy and she’s torn. Her mama told her to stay for a few more days at least, for Mercy. Besides, it’ll take another few days to get her aunt’s body to be released by the ME’s office, so at this point they’re mostly planning Quill’s celebration.” He smiled sadly. “That’ll be something to see. Quill lived an amazing life and never met a stranger. I think the street’s gonna overflow with her parade, and Quill would want Mercy there for it, so they’ll hold off as long as they can if Mercy can come back.”

Rafe felt a stab of regret as André’s words sank in. The Romeros loved Mercy, it was clear, and she loved them. Plus, there was John Benz, her half brother, and all the “sibs,” as she’d called them. Mercy had family in New Orleans, as well as a job. She wouldn’t be staying in California.

Not forever, anyway.

André’s eyes narrowed and then he sighed. “Well, fuck,” he muttered. “Mercy’s going to be torn too, won’t she? And you want her to stay.”

Rafe wasn’t going to deny it. “Good night, André. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow, man.” André waved and started up the stairs, his tread slow and heavy.

Rafe entered the bottom-floor studio as Erin was coming out.

“All clear,” she pronounced. “Everything’s clean.”

“Wait,” he said when she reached for the house’s front door. “Where are you going?”

“Out to stand watch until your backup gets here.” She frowned. “The Feds sent a car, which was supposed to be here when we arrived, but they hit a traffic snarl. They’ll be here soon. I told them I’d stay until they arrive.”

“You’ve got to be tired. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Just warming my chair,” she grumbled. “No fun without you there. But yes, I do have work and my backup arrives in a half hour. Then I’ll go home and get my beauty sleep. Lock up behind me.” She didn’t wait for a response, leaving through the front door.