“I don’t see how you have much of a choice, detective,” Finn cut in. “Because Tobias Dawson isn’t going to stop harassing the Foxes until he gets this land. Which means he’s not going to stop until they’re both dead. The bastard sent his brother to rape and murder Violet last night. A nineteen-year-old girl who’s probably never hurt anyone in her entire life. And here you are trying to protect him, when you should be worried about a young woman and her grandfather. What’s wrong with this picture?”

Donovan turned his hot glare to Finn, who stared back at the detective. Both men had their hands clenched into fists. I sighed again. Finn was on my side, of course, just like a brother would be, and his words and logic were dead-on. But there was only one way to get the detective to go along with the assassination of Tobias Dawson—one small step at a time. Which meant it was up to me to tap-dance Donovan Caine in the direction I wanted him to go.

“Finn?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did you bring your laptop with you?”

He sniffed. “Do I ever leave home without it?”

Question asked and answered. Sometimes I wondered how Finn pulled himself away from his computer long enough to chase after anything that had boobs.

“Then get on it. I want you to find out everything you can about Tobias Dawson. Habits, hobbies, business interests, anything that might be useful.”

Finn nodded and headed toward his SUV.

“And what are you going to do?” Donovan Caine asked in a low voice.

I gave him a bright smile. “Not me, detective. We. We’re going to go check out the dwarf ’s coal mine, and see if we can figure out why Tobias Dawson suddenly has a hard-on for the land Warren’s store sits on. What do you say, detective? Up for a little breaking and entering tonight?”

Donovan grimaced and looked away.

“So you’re going to help us then?” Violet asked.

I looked at her. “I’ve been helping you for a while now, Violet. But yeah, I’m going to take care of Dawson for you.”

“Why?” Warren Fox asked. “I knew the kind of fees Fletcher Lane got for his services—and that was years ago. I certainly can’t pay you anything close to that.”

“Don’t worry about the money,” I said. “Just give me a couple of jars of honey to take back to Jo-Jo, and we’ll call it even.”

“You’re not even going to charge them?” Donovan Caine asked with suspicion. “Why? So you can take their land for yourself?”