Twenty minutes later, Maya was trying to gently push Meg away as she fussed over the scrapes on Maya’s hands. “I’m fine,” she protested, dodging another swipe of the cotton swab Meg was chasing her with. She grabbed a packet of adhesive bandages and slapped them over the last graze. “There, all fixed.” She grinned at Meg, her eyes softening at the look her friend gave her. “We’re all fine, Meg. Really. Go sit down with Liam. I’m sure he’d like a chance to hold you right now.”

Meg smiled at her but then suddenly pulled her in for a hug. She squeezed Maya hard, reminding her of the first day they’d met, and Maya felt guilty. Meg wore her heart on her sleeve and had helped her from day one. She’d probably been scared half to death, waiting back at the house, especially if she’d heard the news of a shooting downtown before Liam had been able to get away from the crowd the incident had generated and get in touch with her. Meg pulled back, keeping her hands on Maya’s shoulders. “Maya Graves! Don’t you ever do that again!”

Maya couldn’t help it. The entire insanity of the morning washed over her and she giggled. “What? Don’t chase a corrupt federal agent with a target on his head down the street and narrowly miss a sniper round?”

Meg’s eyes went wide and glistened with a sheen before she was pulled back into another bone-crunching hug. Well, when she put it that way. “I promise,” she said quietly in Meg’s ear. “Besides, after this morning I’ll be lucky if any of the guys let me out of the house again.” She looked over at the other end of Promise House’s large living room, where the boys had ended up as soon as they’d arrived. It was apparently Seth’s turn to rant, his hands moving animatedly through the air as he talked. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his friend Scott did not seem very pleased. Crap. She walked over, wrapping an arm around Seth’s waist, squeezing lightly and getting his attention. She turned to Scott. “Don’t be mad at the guys, please.” She inclined her head toward Jesse. “Well, you can be mad at him. And me. We’re the ones who didn’t want to involve the cops. Let’s just say we both have developed a problem with authority over the last couple of months.”

Maya braced for a lecture, but to her surprise, Scott’s face broke out in a grin. He rubbed one hand over his goateed chin, chuckling. “Honestly, I can’t say I blame you.” He caught her eye, his face the picture of innocence, but she caught the twinkle in his eye. “Though if you could steer clear of any situations where a federal agent is murdered in the middle of the street, that’d make my life a hell of a lot easier. Or at least give me a heads up.” His face sobered, but his eyes were still warm. “I’ll help you guys however I can, but this can’t stay a secret forever.” Scott looked over at Jesse. “You know that, right? Sooner or later, you’re going to have to let the world know you’re still alive.”

Jesse shook his head. “No. I’m all for helping take down whoever did this, but only to keep my family safe. I won’t go public. It’s too dangerous for them.”

Scott shook his head, apparently his turn for the hand gesturing. “Jesse—trust me when I say I’m glad to see you’re still alive. I’m on your side, but Man, that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You want to take these guys down, you make yourself a public face. The media would eat this story up, but if you stay in the shadows, then you’re far too easy to eliminate.”

Jesse shook his head. “Not if they think I’m already dead.”

Scott pushed off the couch he was leaning against, snorting. “And you think they don’t know already? Whoever ‘they’ are, they clearly knew a hell of a lot more than Special Agent Miller was expecting. How long do you think you can maintain cover, exactly, before someone finds out?”

“So that’s what we should do?” Maya asked. “Go to the media? We don’t have enough proof yet.”

Scott ran a hand through his hair. “Then let’s get some.” He nodded to Seth. “Seth filled me in a little on the phone the other day, but if I’m going to help you, I need to know it all. Show me what you’ve got.”

Fifteen minutes and multiple eyebrow raises and long strings of curses later, Maya handed Scott the last piece of evidence. “I found this in the library archives the other day, just after you finished talking to Seth on the phone by the sounds of it.” She handed him the newspaper printout. “Miller, at a crime scene with involvement from the Dixie Mafia. He had contact with them, all the way back then.”

Scott nodded, pawing through the paper, then switched to looking up something on his phone. Liam picked up the printout and whistled. “Nice work, Maya.”

She was about to reply when Scott’s phone call interrupted. “Susan, get me the phone records for this number, will you? Going back a month, at least, if you can get them.”

He rattled off a phone number and Jesse jumped to his feet, hissing. “That’s Miller’s number. You can’t get that without some serious pull. They’re going to know—there’ll be a flag on his records, guaranteed.”

Scott just grinned and spoke into his cell again. “And keep this one off the radar, just for me?” A pause. “Thank you, Susie. I’ll owe you.” He punched to end the call. “She’ll fax them over in five minutes.”

Maya’s fingers were twitching. She needed to do something or she was going to lose her mind waiting. She grabbed Meg’s arm and hauled her into the kitchen, turning on the coffee maker and finding the sweetest, most sugar-laden treat she could find in Meg’s cupboards. Screw the sugar crash later—she needed it. By the time she and Meg returned to the room, the guys were already huddled over a ream of paper. She placed a tray of coffee mugs down on the table then dodged out of the way, nearly spilling the entire lot when Jesse jumped to his feet again. Her brother used to be so cool and collected. Apparently her nerves weren’t the only ones a little raw these days.

Jesse held up a piece of paper, stabbing at it with his finger. “Eight oh five this morning. The fucker called them at eight a.m. today!” He crumpled the paper in his fist, still swearing loudly.

Maya reached over and plucked it out of his hand, smoothing it before bringing it up to read. A local number was printed on the readout, but it didn’t mean anything to her. “Jesse, whose number is it?”

He swore again then turned around and punched at the wall, leaving his knuckles grazed and dripping blood. “Damn it!” At the sight of it, all the fight seemed to drain out of him. He turned, his eyes apologetic. “Meg, I’m sorry, but fuck. That number belongs to my contact.” He took a deep breath and looked straight at Seth. “The sergeant in arms of the motorcycle club I was infiltrating. They’re serious bad news, one percenters, and Miller called them this morning, right before a bullet went through his brain.”