Laura sidled up next to Lydia, who was standing in front of the buffet trying to decide if Ally would prefer a white lasagna or a Spanish rice. “I hear you’ll be teaching Wrench to dance after all,” she said archly.

Lydia smirked. “I’m looking forward to it,” she said archly.

They shared a moment of amusement, then Laura sobered. “How’s Ally doing?” she asked quietly

“We’ve had some close calls with Scarlet,” Lydia admitted, looking around carefully.

Breakfast had been cleared away for some time, and lunch was generally a lazy buffet affair, with people drifting in and out as they grew hungry. This late in the afternoon, most people were saving room for Chef’s culinary dinner masterpiece, and there were only a few people sitting, mostly in pairs, throughout the spacious room. Across the room, Breck was setting the empty tables for dinner, and one of the other waiters was sweeping.

“She’s a dearheart,” Lydia went on. “And she misses her mother awfully, but is being so brave. I’ve started teaching her salsa, and Wrench gave her a space in the mosaic to work on.” She chose the rice as the most likely to make the journey back to her room without incident.

“Mind if I come up and meet her?”

“It’s starting to look suspicious,” Lydia said regretfully. “My room has suddenly been the staff’s social meeting place the last few days.” She slipped a roll into the purse she’d started carrying for the purpose, and followed it with a few pieces of fruit. Then she froze, sensing the unexpected approach of Wrench. Was he still with Scarlet?

Not noticing her sudden discomfort, Laura laughed. “She’s the most interesting thing that’s happened here since Bastian came home with a shot-up mermaid.”

The air in the restaurant grew somehow denser, a neat trick for an open-air building, and both women looked around to find that a contingent of people, each looking more dangerous than the last, had walked in from the back entrance. Scarlet was flanked by Graham and Wrench, who each somehow made the unassuming Shifting Sands polo shirt look military. Neither of them held quite the same menace as Scarlet’s stony face.

The other party, led by Beehag’s pasty heir Benedict, somehow managed to look sleazy and dangerous, with less veneer of civilization than Scarlet’s company. One of them was a fat man in a suit worth more than all of Lydia’s clothing put together, and there were three men who had the courtesy not to carry large automatic weapons, but looked no less warlike for that restraint.

“Oh, sweet daisies,” Laura whispered at her, clearly from Tex’s influence. “They’re like a caricature of bad guys. I honestly am expecting to hear the score to an awful movie right now.”

But Lydia was watching Wrench, observing the tension in his neck and the line of his eyebrows. “Something’s wrong,” Lydia said, hands clenching on her tray.

“I’ll say,” Laura agreed. “Scarlet looks like she’s going to grind her teeth to nothing.”

Benedict was pointing out the spacious area and gesturing to the view. “It’s a state of the art kitchen and service facilities,” he was saying, barely within hearing distance. “Two walk-in fridges and two walk-in freezers.”

“Three freezers,” Scarlet corrected him frigidly.

“No,” Lydia said quietly. “Something else is wrong.”

Then one of the goons stepped forward into view from behind his buddies.

Laura sucked in her breath audibly and nearly dropped her tray. Shifter reflexes helped her catch it at the last moment, but the silverware rattled, and she turned away so quickly that the water in her glass sloshed over.

“What is it?” Lydia asked, torn between watching Wrench and comforting her friend. “Who is that?”

“Blacksmith,” Laura hissed. She slipped behind one of the columns, out of easy view.

“That’s Blacksmith?” Lydia gasped, following Laura.

“No, it’s not him,” Laura whispered. “But it’s one of his regular hires, Bruno. I think. Usually does dirty work.”

Like Wrench did, she didn’t say, but Lydia added it in her own mind.

She shuddered. “Are they here for Ally?” She wanted to drop her tray and rush up to her rooms to check on the girl.

“They shouldn’t know about Ally, but they could be here for me,” Laura said. “Or Wrench. Or possibly Jenny. Take your pick. Plenty of us have pissed him off, and if he’s gotten wind of the sting...”

Then Jenny strode in, by way of the side entrance, and Lydia had to glance at Laura just to confirm that the other woman was still at her side.

Jenny had lawyered up—she was wearing heels and a fine linen suit, and had her hair back in a twist. She was carrying a leather portfolio, and she had reading glasses she probably didn’t need perched on her nose.

“Excuse me,” Jenny said, approaching the company fearlessly.

The man that Laura had recognized started just slightly. If Lydia hadn’t been watching him when Jenny walked up, she never would have noticed.

Scarlet turned to greet Jenny, introducing her to the group. “This is my lawyer, Ms. Smith.”

Benedict and the buyer both look slightly unnerved by the presence of a lawyer, and they exchanged wary looks.

Jenny gave them a dismissive nod. “I’m sure you’ll be interested in knowing that I’ve been reviewing the lease for the resort.” Her back was to Lydia now, but there was confidence in every line of her body.

“You can’t block this sale,” Benedict started to whine immediately.

“Of course not,” Jenny said firmly. “But there are very specific terms for showings, which include two weeks of written notice, and mandatory payment of lodging and services at regular market cost.”

The buyer was frowning, and looking at Benedict with distrust and skepticism.

“It’s not too uncommon to overlook such details in such a lengthy document,” Jenny said sweetly to the buyer before turning to Benedict. “And I would love to have a chat with your lawyer about some binding references to a previous contract that we don’t appear to have on file.”

“Believe me, you'll be hearing from my lawyer,” Benedict snarled at Scarlet.

“I’ll be sure to give him the contact information for my lawyer,” Scarlet told him serenely. “In the meantime, let me show you back to your helicopter pad, where we will conclude this tour.”

Wrench and Graham each took a coordinated step forward, and Benedict took a cowed step back, nearly colliding with the muscle behind him. “This isn’t over,” he threatened. “You’ll get your written notice and I’ll be back. You can’t stop me from selling this cursed island. You can’t!”

Clearly, Benedict was reluctant to give Scarlet an opportunity to sue for breach of contract, and they left with more haste than they’d come, the buyer shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

Laura didn’t relax with their exit. “This isn’t over,” she said darkly. “It wasn’t a coincidence that Blacksmith’s thug was hired for this job.”