Despite the air conditioning, every lady gathered around the large conference table was either fanning herself or guzzling from bottles of chilled water. Arizona could be a brutal bitch about heat.

Stephanie lifted the small antique brooch pinned to her plain cotton T-shirt. It was a timepiece, like something Mary Poppins would rock. The visual was so goddamn funny that Heather had to reel in the thigh-slapping guffaws threatening to erupt from her throat. Luckily, Tori interjected with her usual dry but hilarious commentary and got them all laughing.

“Jesus, Mom. Don’t you think the Victorian jewelry with jeans and a T-shirt is a bit much? Especially since you work in a barn.”

“It’s a stable, dear. The barn is separate. And to answer your question, piss off, okay? My husband gave me this, and I intend to wear it all the time.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Meghan drawled, to which Tori made a noise and stuck out her tongue.

Lacey sighed. She gave great sigh. Heather was sure the younger woman’s sighs were really old soul messages. Age was not a factor when it came to the roles each of them played in this unique gathering of women.

Sweet, adorably innocent Lacey Cameron represented the soul.

Meghan, of course, the heart.

Snark Queen Victoria, unbelievably, brought the organized and logical right brain.

Angie and her sister shared a no fucks to give attitude—an important ingredient in their group dynamic.

Heather calmly chanced a look at Domineau. Whatever the hell was going on with her and Rafe was at the forefront of all their thoughts. The two were not exactly making a secret of the fact that they were doing it. However, that was just part of it, which was what made the whole thing a soap opera worthy of the popcorn bucket.

Sophie used her majorette voice to bring them all back to the table. “Zip it, gals. Let’s move this along. We’ve all got things to do. Continue, Stephanie.”

It was the end of a long meeting—something new in everyone’s schedule. The long-standing, informal coffee klatch where whoever was available would meet to coordinate, discuss, and dish had by necessity been slowly transforming into this planned get-together complete with a printed agenda.

“As I was saying before being interrupted,” Stephanie snidely drawled with an eyebrow raised at her daughter, “the Curse Kitty now stands at three hundred and sixty-four dollars. Aside from the obvious fact that using a swearing fund with you vulgar lot was a genius move,” she turned and gave Lacey a cheeky Namaste that Mrs. Cameron returned with a giggle, “we have no reason now not to start one of the traditions on the official list.”

“Is it wrong that we have a list, and that it’s official?” Meghan asked.

Sophie nodded. “Yes! And while we’re on the subject, who decides what is official?”

Domineau let out a loud snort. She generally said nothing but always got in on laughing at the group’s foolishness.

Remy actually opened her mouth and uttered words. The most reluctant to be there of the whole group, she was still finding her way, and Heather silently encouraged the complicated female with every step.

“Finn said no way to the Hookers and Harlots party at Pete’s. But I think he’s open to an English high tea.”

“Ginger bastard,” Angie muttered. She winked at Meghan, and they shared a laugh.

“Speaking of the English”—Domineau snickered—“don’t the Brits have a ginger prince? Saw his bare butt in the tabloids. Not bad. Anyway,” she taunted, “looks to me like the ginger twins, Finn and Harry, like their women a little on the exotic side. Know what I mean?”

Ooh, snap! Heather perked up and studied this new element. Domineau openly needling Remy about Finn was an eye-opener.

Every pair of eyes around the table swiveled to look at Remy. The little dynamo gave better than she got, though. Heather wanted to applaud at how adroitly she handled herself.

First, she flipped Domineau off. Her nails were painted dark red and the only reason Heather noticed was because until recently, like right now, she could not recall Remington Bisset doing her nails or wearing makeup.

Second, she came back with a pitch-perfect response, which more than earned her a spot at the Justice ladies table.

“Since you brought it up, thank you for seeing the comparison. Gives me clearance to claim the Justice tiara for any formal occasion.”

“Well played, Remy!” Tori boomed. Clapping her hands and getting everyone to join in, Tori rose and said it again. “Well played!”

Sophie snorted. “Oh fuck, really? We have a Justice tiara? How didn’t I know this?”

Stephanie performed her standard-issue bodacious Southern twang, Mae West-style, by poofing her hair. “Well, I just had so many, shugah! Donatin’ one was the least I could do!”

Domineau rocked in her seat and laughed like hell. It was becoming amusingly obvious that the female Justice Brother enjoyed pushing Remy’s buttons.

“Practice your royal wave, Bisset!” she barked.

Heather smiled and then felt that old familiar heart tug of disappointment when Angie rubbed her belly.

“Parker says this thing Finn has planned will end up being the mother-of-all events. I know it’s not till after the challenge, but he already got Kelly to agree to fly in for the weekend.”

Heather nudged the little woman sitting cross-legged on the bench next to her and chuckled. “Now that she and Roman have a place in town, you can bet on seeing a lot of them. Even after they head back to New York for the fall term,” Heather said. “And there’s a reason Finn wants her here for his party.”

“Do tell,” Sophie drawled.

Kelly laughed, sat straighter, sucked in her stomach, and pushed the girls out, front and center. Then she made a cocky muscle by flexing a bicep.

Heather applauded. “The lady is a bona fide pool shark. Girlfriend might be little, but she is also mighty. Even Brody says she can’t be beat.”

“Oh, you mean like with Remy and card games?” Once again, Domineau’s contribution felt like either a gotcha or deliberate needling.

It was starting to feel like things were going off the rails. The heat and a long meeting were making all of them antsy.

Stephanie clapped her hands real loud—twice.

“Shut it! No time for discussion—this is what you get for being an unruly group. Our Curse Kitty is going to fund a new custom, and this one is just for the gals. Executive decision time. Off the top of my head. Every other month we will plan a ladies’ tea. Dress up, fancy nibbles, china cups, the whole deal. Female younglings included, of course.”

“Hats?”

Heather chuckled at Lacey’s innocent sounding question. She was on a hat kick lately.

Stephanie gave the hat idea a few seconds of thought. “Definitely worth considering.”

“God,” she quipped. “Bella will lose her mind. Dress-up tea? Fancy hats? I can’t wait for her and Molly to start planning outfits.”

Domineau’s sarcastic grunt let them all know what she thought of the whole thing. About to refocus on what Stephanie was saying, Heather hesitated. Domineau had a vibe that was not there two minutes ago. Pretending to study a little notebook she laid on the table gave Heather an opportunity to observe her.

Domineau was one of those women who had the ability to be perfectly still. Unnaturally still. Heather figured this subtle capability was what helped her earn the Smoke nickname. She really could waft in and out at will.

Heather sensed a building agitation in her movements. They became sharp, tense, and obvious. It was all lighthearted and jovial until … when? What happened or who said what to bring about her complete reversal of mood?

Stephanie was doing a head count for the official record. “So, ladies’ tea it is. Lacey and Lily, aw, how sweet,” she cooed. “And perfect.”

Everyone nodded.

“Meghan and Stevie. Heather and Bella. Domineau and Molly.”

Stephanie continued, but Heather tuned out because in that instant, she understood Domineau’s mood shift. Everyone just assumed she and Rafe’s daughter were a team. As a couple, the two were barely at the acknowledging stage, much less taking relationship roles.

She got lost in her thoughts and barely got it together in time for her part of the meeting. When Stephanie handed her the bedazzled gavel, Heather stood and jumped right in.

“Stephanie is handing out a Venn diagram I threw together,” she began as papers passed hand to hand. “Will explain a lot and save time since I know we all have crazy schedules.”

Holding up her iPad and pointing at the center of the design, she spoke in quick, direct bursts.

“Everything is connected to this—the perfect assistant. In some form or fashion, we all need a valet. No joke.”

She put the pad down and gestured to Sophie. “You need an assistant.” When Sophie started to object, she held up her hand. “Nope. Not hearing it. We all get it, Soph. You are woman, and yes, we hear your roar. But enough with the Wonder Woman act.”

Meghan had a laugh and blew her sister-in-law a kiss. “Sorry. I heard the word woman a couple of times and thought, that’s a lotta woman, and then I thought, yeah, well Sophie.” She shrugged. “You feel me, right?”

The whole assemblage of women—except Domineau—chuckled, nodded, and in some cases, clapped. Sophie’s badassery was genuinely admired.

Heather steered them back to the reason for the diagram. “And just so we’re clear, Ms. Marquez, here’s how it went. Jace grumbled to Remy who got aggravated and bitched to Finn who got annoyed that she was pissed and went to his sister who, as we all know, gets the final say in all things at the Double M. You are getting an assistant. Period. Angie has graciously agreed to head the search committee.”

Sophie gasped, croaked, “Fuck my life,” and dropped her head into her hands.

Angie giggled and rubbed her hands together with obvious glee. “I’ve waited for this since you packed my honeymoon suitcase. Paybacks are a bitch, huh?”

“Now, next priority. Stephanie Dane. Nobody can take it anymore, Duchess. Calder is worse than a broken record. His grumbling infects the guys, and lets’ face it, shugah,” she mimicked, “none of us are here for a group whine from the men.”

Stephanie huffed and puffed. She smoothed her hair and pursed her lips. The whole beauty queen performance was a lame attempt not to give in. And then she threw up her hands.

“Okay, fine. But it’s not like finding someone I can deal with who can also whip a crew of know-it-all cowboy types into shape is going to be easy. I’ve looked, so believe me.”

Heather had the answer and was quick to play her best hand ever. She gestured to the paper diagram. “Lower left corner. Mrs. Rebecca Alden Tate. Age, thirty-three. Army and a couple of deployments.”

“The homeless vet,” Kelly murmured.

“Yes.” Heather nodded. “She got a raw deal. Had a husband who wasn’t thrilled that his wife was military. He bows out while she’s on deployment. There’s a daughter who she nearly loses custody of because of her military commitments. Fast forward. She’s homeless and has a twelve-year-old kid. The reason any of this is germane to this discussion is this. Becca Tate was a warrant officer. Human resources and procurement. In the Army. And she was good at what she did. Life, however, doesn’t always care how good you are. The way I see it is this—she needs a couple of things.”

Lacey tapped her fingernails on the table where she had some papers spread out. Without being asked, she kept notes, typed up minutes, and acted as the squad’s secretary. “Whoa. Let’s slow down and bring everyone onto the same page. Make sure we all have the same information. She’s living where?”

Tori sighed. “Above Busty’s. In a dusty, mostly empty storeroom on the second floor. I took them some supplies. Female stuff. Becca almost cried. Her daughter is something else.”

“And this daughter? She’s what? Twelve?” Lacey looked like she was doing mental calculations. “Seventh grade in the fall term. Middle school. Junior High. I’ll do some checking around about registration and districting.”

“A warrant officer with military experience,” Stephanie muttered. “So far, so good, Heather.”

“Lacey tapped right into what I think Becca needs. I’ve talked to her at length. She’s a hard worker, and if her husband hadn’t pussied out, she’d be in a different situation. Handouts are tough for her, but when push and shove meet, all she needs is some stability. A decent job and a place to live. She can take it from there.”

“You know the Major will be on board. All you have to say is vet or needs a break, and he’s all over it.” Meghan’s comment was the icing. Nobody would object if Alex gave a thumbs-up.

“Why discuss it?” Stephanie stated. “She sounds perfect. Bring her to the stable and let’s see what happens.”

Heather did a mental happy dance. Yes! She knew Stephanie would get with the program. Becca was a proud woman who’d had to eat a ton of shit. She needed a chance, not a pity party. Now to attack the second part of the issue. A place to live.

“Thoughts on someplace for Becca and her daughter to drop anchor? Close to town, I would think because of school and all,” she added by way of an explanation.

Murmured conversations broke out as the ladies had a hushed discussion—hopefully about options. Heather’s gaze landed on a perturbed looking Domineau. All her walls went up after the mention of Molly D’Alessandro.

One problem at a time, her rationale mind reminded. First, she had to get Becca Tate squared away. Then she’d circle around to Sophie’s situation. Thank god Angie wouldn’t need much supervision. After those two priorities were heading in the right direction, then she’d take a second look at Domineau’s unusual circumstances. Maybe she could help.

It was Lacey’s sweet voice that rose above the growing din. Heather let her surprise show. She hadn’t expected Ponytail to weigh in so strongly.

In the time it took for Lacey to utter less than a dozen words, Heather was sure Mrs. Cameron was either playing devil’s advocate, stirring a before now unseen pot, or just flat out being mischievous.

“The solution is obvious,” Lacey began. “Anything the Villa has to offer is too far from town so scratch that. The only person living in a school district who doesn’t already have a house of people to deal with is Domineau.” Lacey smiled at the taciturn female. “You have an extra room, isn’t that right?”

Tori snicker-coughed into her hand when Domineau shot out of her chair, stood, glared at Lacey and bellowed. “Excuse me, what?”

From the farthest corner of her eye, Heather caught Sophie and Angie fist bumping.

Kelly, damn her, was flat out giggling. She knew Domineau the best—if that was possible. “Pywakett would love the company!” she teased with a snark-infused chuckle.

“Bite me,” Domineau growled.

The tour-de-force, award-winning pantomime that the delightfully innocent Mrs. Lacey Cameron turned loose deserved a standing ovation for how quickly she shut Domineau down. It was impossible to argue with sweetness and light when it steamrolled right over you.

“I don’t understand,” the blond ponytailed woman said with amusing confusion that Heather knew was 100% bullshit. “What’s the problem?” Lacey smiled innocently at Domineau and added some disingenuous batted eyelashes. “You’re never there. My husband says all you do is work. And hang out at Rafe’s. And I believe Heather has been hosting kid sleepovers on the regular. Isn’t that right, Kelly? So it isn’t like you’re home much.”

The gotcha vibe in her open taunt reverberated around the room.

“It could be fun, Domineau. Think about it. Like a girl’s dormitory only with purpose. You’d be helping a down on her luck vet and your cat would gain some roommates. To keep her company when you are occupied elsewhere.”

Her delivery was so saccharin smooth and irrefutable that Heather didn’t hesitate to initiate a round of applause punctuated with the sound of muttered praises. A performance like that deserved all the oxygen it could get!

Domineau knew she was cornered. With an ominous snarl, she crossed her arms, and one by one, she gave everyone some stink eye. “I didn’t think it was possible to hate anyone more than I hate those Justice shitheads, but this squad comes close. You know how uncool this is, right?”

Remy snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth. It wasn’t enough to stop the bark of amusement that came next. Then she pointed at Domineau with one hand and pounded the table with the other as gales of laughter filled the air. “Josie and the Pussycats!”

Domineau gasped and squinted with malevolence at her tormentor. “You bitch.”

Remy jumped to her feet and tried to stop laughing. “I’m sorry but come on. This is funny as shit. And it’s what you get for the ginger jokes.”

Meghan snickered. Heather realized a private moment was playing out and took quick steps to throw cold water on the snarling friends before a catfight broke out.

“All right, all right. Simmer down. This is about helping Becca, not starting a flame-throwing war. Your issues have to wait for another time.”

She gave Domineau a genuine smile and hoped it came off as encouraging. The lady was taking a public beating although Heather might be the only one who realized it. Offering a mini-solution, she refocused the group on the matter at hand and tried to throw Domineau an emotional flotation device.

“We’ll all pitch in, Domineau. Truly, we will. You won’t be left holding the bag. Time is an issue—school starts soon. We don’t have the luxury of kicking this thing around.”

Kelly spoke next. Heather detected subtle hints of worry and encouragement—in other words, total opposites. Nothing described Domineau Rivera better. The fact that she threw Matty into the mix, though, was completely unfair. It was like being offered a choice and then having the one person who mattered sit in judgment. Kelly James was a smart lady with a devious mind.

“Matty will be relieved that Pywakett won’t be left alone so much. And don’t forget this—after we head east, he’ll be expecting regular video chats so you two can bitch about things. You can complain about your roommates, and he can whine about missing Bendover.”

“Aw, fuck. Was that your only play? Huh? Using the damn kid against me?”

Sophie, of all people, was watching this exchange with obvious interest. If there was shit to stir, Sophia Marquez got involved. She had a way with bubbling cauldrons and recipes for disaster, mayhem, and general foolishness. She was also Alex’s sister and wasn’t one to waste time with nonsense. What surprised Heather the most was that instead of dropping a grenade into the mix, she came with an actual idea. A good one.

“Meghan, aren’t we doing a babysitter’s course at the Double M in September. That Red Cross thing.”

Meghan looked up and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Loads of sign-ups. One of the scouting troops wants in as a way to earn a badge.”

“Well shit, ladies. Maybe this woman’s kid can be helpful with some of our babysitting needs. She can help Mom by earning money.”

Yep. That was the moment Heather felt she should speak up. “Uh, about the kid.”

All eyes turned to stare at her.

“In a nutshell, the daughter hates everyone. Her mom, dad, you, me, the weather.”

Tori grumbled loud enough to get everyone’s heads nodding. “Yeah, well the kid got a raw deal. Dad’s a dick, from what you’ve told us, and I’m pretty sure what every kid on the cusp of becoming a teenager wants is to be homeless.”

All true. Sadly true. Heather continued her explanation. “The girl’s name is Kourtney. Goes by Kori. She blames Mom for everything, and Becca is so overwhelmed that she essentially takes it. The kid’s bad attitude will need an adjustment. You might want to hold off on grooming her to be the designated babysitter.”

“I disagree,” Sophie interjected. “Catering to her behaviors won’t help anyone.” She lowered her voice fractionally. “And I would know.”

Angie reached for her sister’s hand. “Soph is right. Sometimes it’s better to take a no shits given stance. Life is tough. Wah-wah. Best thing we can do is show her how to pull her knickers up and get on with it. Starting with some firm expectations. Good grades. Manners. And getting involved. None of that hiding under the covers crap.”

When all was said and done, Heather had to give it up for the Justice Ladies Squad. They were as different from each other as could be and at times had lively debates about what was going on in the world, but one universal truth stood out. Maybe separately they were each damaged, dinged, and a little lost at times, but when they joined hands, anything was possible. And one thing they had in common was making sure they gave and got the best from each other and the people they influenced. It was one of the reasons she wanted so desperately to add to her and Brody’s family. Raising children around this crew of outstanding humans would be a gift from the heavens.

Stephanie’s quiet twang joined in. “I’ve always felt that expectations, boundaries, and giving kids actual real-world activities make all the difference.”

Meghan was studying Domineau as this sidebar unfolded. She sat forward and clasped her hands on the table. “Being twelve can be a difficult time.”

The comment was directed at just one person. Their gazes connected. Heather watched with fascination as the two extraordinarily powerful women faced off.

An unspoken conversation passed between them. When Domineau gave in, she did so with deference and a bit of wit.

“You know what would be funny?” she drawled. “If after all this effort to sandbag me, it turns out that one of them is allergic to cats. Hope you have a plan B.”

It wasn’t her imagination at all when Lacey all but wiped a paw across her whiskers. Whatever she was up to was making her grin from ear to ear and appear very satisfied.

Kelly sidled up to Heather when things wound down and the ladies started chatting. She patted her on the back and said, “Good job.”

“It’s what I do. What I did,” she pointed out. “Being a counselor is nothing more than acting as a facilitator. People want to help. They just need direction.”

A slight frown marred her friend’s face. “Are you okay? Your coloring is off. Maybe you should sit.”

Heather shook her off with a rueful smirk. “It’s Arizona in the summer. The heat is not my friend. I’m fine, really. Brody is giving me grief because he thinks I’m dehydrated.” She held up her water bottle. “He’s crazy because I drink enough to make me a regular bathroom visitor.”

“If you say so,” Kelly muttered. “I have to get going. Roman took Matty into Sedona. They’re checking out the dog rescue lady who Brody thinks is the bomb. If I leave them alone too long, we’ll be dragging a Leonberger back to New York.”

“Oh dear,” she replied with a laugh. “Isn’t a Leonberger basically a giant dog?”

“Yeah,” Kelly sneered. “It is. And both my guys find it fall down hilarious that the beast would dwarf me. Swear to god, they’ll look for the biggest canine imaginable just to mess with me. Assholes.”

Heather hugged her friend and snickered at the funny picture her words painted. Kelly dealing with a massive dog while Matty and Roman laughed would be par for the course for their unusual family.

Stephanie waylaid Heather on the way to her car.

“Hey, hold up, Heather.”

She quickly stashed her workbag in the back seat and smiled warmly. Even without a single man around, Stephanie had a way of swinging her hips that set her apart from all the rest. There were beauty queen wannabes and then there was Stephanie Dane.

“Calder has asked if Bella would like to come over soon. Maybe one day after she takes Snowflake for a ride. I think he wants her opinion on some crazy idea he’s working on. You know him.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Heather quipped. “My daughter has a busy schedule. And once school starts, it’s only going to get crazier. She wants dance lessons and piano class. Plus, she, Molly, and Amy plan on taking everything the Double M offers for their age group. I’ll see if she can pencil Uncle Thor in for a consult.”

They laughed and snickered at the absurdity that sometimes colored Family Justice. Things were never boring.