Monday was cooler outside than it had been the previous week and, thanks to jet lag, Gavin had risen very early and made enough noise in the bathroom to wake Ryenne. He was staying in one of the two guest rooms at the back of the top floor, across from the room she shared with Lucien.

She joined him downstairs for an early breakfast at the kitchen table.

The sounds of TV floated in from the salon where the girls waited for Emma and Pascal to come down. Lucien had left for a run while it was still dark outside. He hadn’t talked to Ryenne yet about the call from Chantal, and Ryenne hadn’t told him about her visit to his ex.

“What are we going to do today?” Gavin asked. “Sight-seeing?” His face took on a hopeful smile.

Ryenne hated to ruin it for him. “Wish we could but we still have the Fang situation to deal with. We don’t know what their next move will be, but they’ve made threats. Grieux told us to expect war. It wouldn’t be safe for us to split up now or stray too far from the house.”

Gavin nodded but his lower lip protruded in a slight pout.

“I hope we end this soon so I can show you around,” she said.

“So, what are we doing, then?” His expression changed to one of resignation.

“What you do best, my friend. Research. We need you to find out everything you can about Grieux and Lord Enterprises in France. We don’t yet know what will work as ammo against them and we don’t know what we’re looking for, so just go as deep as you can.”

Gavin nodded and drained the last of his coffee. “I’ll be upstairs in my room with my laptop. I’ll let you know if anything stands out.”

“Thanks, Gav.” After he left the kitchen, Ryenne went to the office to check in with Françoise. “Anything new?”

“No, thank goodness.” Françoise looked up from the computer and took off her glasses. “Could he have been trying to merely scare us into accepting their offer? Maybe he’s waiting to hear from us.”

Ryenne didn’t think so but Françoise knew Jean Grieux better than any of them. He had already shown he had no compunctions about murder and she was glad all the Malraux were under one roof.

The phone rang and Françoise answered it. At first she sounded happy to hear from the person on the other end of the line, but soon her posture straightened and her face froze in an expression of confusion. Ryenne wished she could understand.

Warmth next to her made her glance to the side. Lucien had joined them, fresh from the shower, his hair still damp and curling at the ends.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a whisper.

He shook his head and seemed to concentrate on his mother’s conversation. Ryenne realized he could probably hear the other side of it, too.

Françoise ended the call and hung up. She sat for a moment, her hand still on the receiver.

“I missed the beginning,” Lucien said. “Why does Bazzini think we’re going out of business?”

She shook her head. “It’s baffling. He says he heard it from his chef who claims he heard it at the market early this morning when buying supplies for the restaurant.”

“At least you set him straight,” Lucien said. “But if it’s already spreading this quickly, it’ll be hard to refute.”

Françoise nodded. “I’ll draft an email to all of our current clients to let them know it’s business as usual chez Malraux.”

“What about prospective clients?” Ryenne asked.

“I worry that making such a statement will make them wonder what’s wrong and change their minds about us,” Françoise said. “They might decide we’re too much trouble.”

Ryenne wished she could do more. The inactivity was getting to her by lunchtime. She found herself pacing in the backyard, dreaming up ways to convince Chantal to tell her the truth. She must’ve been wrong about the guy she’d seen with Chantal. He must not be her boyfriend if Ryenne’s mention of him scared her. Was he a Fang? Why had he been with Chantal? Did he stab Lucien? Why did he frighten her?

The questions ran on a loop while she paced.

As they gathered in the kitchen for lunch, the office phone rang again. Françoise and Lucien locked eyes. They hadn’t told Emma and Dany about the earlier call from the longtime client, Bazzini. They’d hoped the email to clients would halt the rumors.

Françoise strode into the office and answered the phone. The girls came in then, clamoring for food, so Ryenne couldn’t hear Françoise’s tone of voice. Lucien, Dany, and Emma followed their mother.

Gavin looked at Ryenne. “What’s going on?”

Ryenne shrugged.

The little girls looked from Gavin to Ryenne and back again.

“Hungry?” Gavin asked them.

Aurélie, the older one, nodded. Sophie responded in a stream of French.

“I think she said chicken,” Ryenne said with a shrug. Leaving her and Gavin alone with kids was dangerous. Neither of them had any experience with children.

“Chicken, okay,” Gavin said, opening the fridge. “Aha, here’s some leftover chicken and a salad. Meat and vegetables, that works, right?”

He put the platter of chicken and the bowl of salad on the table while Ryenne pulled out plates and forks. The girls sat at the table with big smiles, waiting for the two inept grownups to bring them everything they needed.

“Oh, drinks,” Ryenne said.

Gavin opened the fridge again. “What do you want, girls?”

“De l’eau, s’il vous plaît,” Aurélie said and Sophie nodded.

“Water,” Ryenne said, happy she’d picked up a few important words in French. “Gazeuse ou plate?”

“Gazeuse,” Sophie answered.

“Plate pour moi,” Aurélie said.

“One bubbly and one still,” Ryenne translated for Gavin.

He brought out the bottles and Ryenne grabbed glasses from a cupboard. “Nicely done, Ry. We should stay until the end of the summer, an extended working vacation. You’ll be fluent by the time we leave for New York.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

Ryenne was cutting some chicken off the carcass for Sophie when the Malraux burst into the kitchen, all talking at once. She caught Lucien’s eye and lifted her eyebrows in question.

“The bank called. Our accounts have been frozen by the government because we’re under investigation,” Lucien said.

“Investigation?” she asked, voice rising. “For what?”

“We don’t know but it must have to do with embezzlement or fraud or something white collar like that,” Dany answered.

Ryenne shook her head. What were they playing at? “Obviously, it’s the Fangs,” she said. “But what do they gain by starting rumors and cutting off your access to your funds?”

All four Malraux shrugged, concerned expressions on their faces.

“Devaluing our business means they can buy us for less,” Françoise said.

“They don’t really care about our business, anyway,” Lucien said. “They want us. Our skills. Our name.”

“But surely it doesn’t help them to ruin your name in the meantime,” Ryenne said.

Lucien shrugged again.

One last phone call continued the devastation of Malraux Frères. It came in the mid-afternoon.

It was their newest client, le Zénith, the arena Dany and Guy had visited the day of the café robbery.

When Françoise hung up the phone, she was shaking.

“What did they say?” Ryenne whispered to Lucien.

“They’ve canceled our contract,” he said. “They say they can’t afford to get involved with a failing business because shifter security is too important, especially with the renewed tensions from rogues in recent weeks.”

“Shit,” Ryenne said.

Several family members nodded.

But the word didn’t fully express how Ryenne felt. Anger rose within her and she stomped out to the patio where she could pace and curse in English all she wanted. These rogues couldn’t get away with what they were doing to the Malraux. She wouldn’t let them.