Dante stared down at the envelope I'd snatched from Alex's car, squeezing the tiny sample bag of Bluejay between anxious fingers. He looked about as perplexed as I felt, but I was holding out hope he'd know what to do about it.

Because I had no fucking clue what to do about it.

My hands had been shaking since the moment I made the discovery, my head was a mess. It's a wonder I'd been coherent enough to fake a sickness and tell Alex to take me home before we made it to dinner. But I wouldn't have survived an entire evening with him, I knew that much.

"This is insane," my brother muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, I know," I wholeheartedly agreed. "Talk about a small world..."

"It's not that small." He glanced up and gave me a pointed look. "I told you people were coming in from out of town. What I'm shocked about is that you managed to befriend this guy of all fucking people. The guy Dalton had a bad feeling about."

He shook his head and tossed the envelope onto my counter. It had a Chicago address, a detail I'd missed when I saw the name "Leone" and found the Bluejay. Any thoughts of Alex Ryan being an innocent roofer from New York had gone out the window with that discovery, and I went into panic mode.

"I thought you said they looked into Leone and everyone else in Chicago after the warehouse incident?" I asked Dante.

He started pacing the kitchen floor. "They did," he mumbled in thought. "But mistakes happen, Davina. People lie to protect themselves all the time. And besides, we don't actually know for sure if he was connected to Dalton's death at the warehouse. Not yet."

"Okay. But I think the fact that he name dropped this guy right before he died is fairly suspicious."

"I don't disagree." Pausing his anxious steps, Dante cracked his knuckles and tipped his chin at me. "What does this guy know about us? About our family..."

"Not much." I shrugged, wracking my brain for all the details of my time with Alex. "I didn't really share anything personal with him. But he does know I have a brother who died. He saw Dalton's photo on my wall and asked about it."

His eyebrows jumped. "He saw Dalton's photo?"

"Yeah."

"How did he react?"

"Oh, uhm..." I blew out a breath of air and floundered for an answer, feeling absolutely stupid for not having a better memory of that night. I was too busy deciding that I had zero feelings for Alex and hadn't been paying much attention when he saw the picture of me and Dalton on my wall.

"I don't know," I finally answered with a frown. "I wasn't paying attention honestly. My mind was elsewhere. I'm sorry."

Dante waved a hand through the air. "It's fine. Doesn't matter anyway. He's obviously good at pretending. And even if he had nothing to do with Dalton's murder, he's still a threat. He lied about who he was and he had this." He picked up the bag of Bluejay, glared at it, and then tossed it back on the counter. "What else did you tell him?"

"Nothing. He asked a few questions about our family when we were out tonight. I curved the truth a bit. Said I had no other siblings and both of our parents lived nearby. I didn't tell him Dad was locked up."

Dante nodded, eyes busy as he mulled everything over. "That's good that you didn't give him anything, but he could have been baiting you. He could know everything about us and was just testing you."

"I hadn't thought of that." My stomach sank at the idea of it. "So, what do we do now?"

"We need some more information," he said with a little jolt of confidence in his tone. "I want to know more about him and this brother of his. If he even exists and if he does, who the hell is he? Because he's certainly not some restaurant owner in Renlow Park."

"On that we agree." I nodded.

Although, I didn't know how we were supposed to go about getting more information about Alex. Or...Alessandro Leone, I suppose. Whoever the fuck he really was.

The only thing we knew about a guy with the name Leone, whose association with Chicago and Bluejay probably tied him to The Amato Group, was that our brother found him to be a piece of shit who couldn't be trusted. Not a very good look for the guy.

Searching up his real name seemed like a good start, but when I was about to mention that to Dante, he clued me in on his idea first.

"You have to see him again."

And there was my stomach again. Sinking into the oblivion.

My jaw dropped. "What?"

"It's the only way," Dante answered like it was the simplest of solutions. "If he's here on Amato business and I haven't met him yet, your identity could still be safe. He'd have no reason to make a family connection and be suspicious, which means you can probably find a few other things out."

"And if he is suspicious?" My voice climbed up an anxious octave. "You literally just said he could be playing me. Playing him right back could go very wrong."

"You could meet him somewhere public," he suggested. "I'll stay nearby in case you need to call an SOS."

Alright, not a terrible idea. But still...

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I doubt he'll readily tell the truth. His track record sucks so far."

Dante thought it over for a minute. Then he smirked. "Think you could steal his wallet?"

"This isn't a fucking movie," I laughed. And it felt good for a moment, making light of the situation, despite the darkness we were dealing with.

But when it came to Dalton, that darkness was a perpetual storm cloud, always looming. It kept me mindful of the actual hazard that came with upsetting a potential suspect of his murder.

"Alex could be dangerous," I reminded my brother. "If he does know about our family, Mom could be at risk."

Dante's expression sobered up, and his gaze fell to the floor. "You're right. I'll figure something out. Maybe we should just...I don't know, lure him somewhere and grab him. I could probably use one of the empty safe houses outside of the city to question him."

Good grief. Was he kidding?

"Again, not a movie," I said, almost laughing for the second time. Expect that Dante hadn't smirked before he said that. His voice was completely serious and his eyes were stoic when they came up to meet mine again.

"Not the first time I've done that, sis. How else do you think we get answers in this business?"

Okay, not kidding at all then...

Even as I rolled my eyes, my stomach turned, the reality of his job hitting me like a smack to the face. It was the reality of things he'd learned from our father first. The things they'd both taught Dalton.

I hate it here.

Dante grabbed his cell phone and keys from the counter. Before turning to head out, he opened his mouth for some parting words but was interrupted by the sound of my door opening.

Since I wasn't expecting anyone, and the content of our conversation had me generally on edge, I gasped at the intrusion.

My hand flew to my heart.

Dante's went to the gun on his hip.

We exchanged a look as hurried footsteps plowed around the corner into my kitchen.

"Davina? Are you here?"

The sound of Spencer's voice, along with the sight of him a second later, had me sighing in relief.

"Good grief. You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," he mumbled as he made a beeline for the counter where I was standing, his eyes never leaving me. His urgency had my heart changing gears, still racing, but for entirely different reasons.

Dressed in his uniform, Spence was freshly showered and looked ready to start the nightshift he volunteered for, but his current mission seemed to be...me. He moved fast and sure in my direction, not acknowledging my brother across the room. I wasn't even sure he saw him.

Absently, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and wondered how I looked under his heavy, attentive gaze.

"It's okay," I said, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and soap and Spence. It was more distracting than I'd like to admit. "What are you doing here?" I checked the oven for the time. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

And why do you seem so spooked?

"I was heading that way, but I wanted to check in. I, uh..." He brushed a hand through his damp hair and cleared his throat, brows furrowing with a thought he seemed to still be working through. "I don't know. I guess I had a bad feeling." He looked me up and down. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I whispered. Then a frown worked its way across my mouth, caught up by the softness in his voice.

As I looked up into those wolfish eyes, I considered the weight of his vulnerability, wondering how that level of concern would look as a permanent addition in my life. My own brother hadn't even asked if I was okay.

"Nice to see his Spidey senses are still as strong as ever," Dante interrupted my thoughts. And, simultaneously, let his presence be known to Spence.

"Dante," he tipped his chin at him in greeting, "never a pleasure."

"Same to you, John," Dante smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Spence returned his attention to me. "What does he mean by Spidey senses? Is something wrong?"

I shrugged. "I don't know yet."

"What the hell does that mean?"

All at once, I grew irritated at the truth I'd come across, hesitant to share the confirmation that Spence had been right about Alex all along.

Talk about a headache waiting to happen...

My eyes flitted to the incriminating evidence on the countertop. I gestured for Spence to take a look for himself.

Following my cue right away, he snatched the envelope into his hands, eyes widening at the words he read.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked as looked up at me. "This is Alex?"

"Yes." I avoided his eyes at all costs, staring at the paint on my walls like I'd never seen the pale blue color before.

Spence stepped toward me and commanded clarification. "Alex Ryan is Alessandro Leone?"

"Yes," I repeated, finally sparing him a glance. "I assume you know Dalton's connection to someone with that name?" I looked between him and Dante. "Have you two swapped intel about that one yet?"

"I'm aware of the name," Spence answered.

Dante cleared his throat and moved in our direction. "Look what else she found," he said, passing him the packet of Bluejay.

It was so small in the palm of his hand, the powdery substance looking like it could be a million other things, and the little blue bird stamp giving it an almost childlike quality. But the actual weight of that tiny bag was heavy with deception.

Heavy with risk and peril.

"He had this in his car?" Spence's question came out softer than I expected. His voice was hoarse and unsure, eyes beaming between the baggie and the envelope. "It was in this envelope?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

Watching Spencer stare down at the Bluejay in his hand, I recalled the few pieces of information I'd been putting together over the last weeks.

Between Dalton's texts, the coffee shop gossip, and the phone number I'd found at Spence's house just a few nights ago, it felt like something was definitely coming together. But I was missing a crucial piece, and uncertainty spun my stomach into knots.

I was still mulling it over when Dante spoke again. "I wasn't aware of Bluejay making it as far as Chicago after we shut it down a few years back," he mentioned softly, lifting a brow at Spence. His tone held a subtle note of accusation, but I could tell he was trying to rein in. "You know anything about that?"

Spence's eyes stayed on the little baggie in his hands. "Maybe," he mumbled, shrugging.

"Care to elaborate?" Dante pried.

"Nope."

My brother grumbled at Spence's short answer, but I wasn't the least bit surprised. Those two never willingly offered up the details of their work on opposing sides. Dante wouldn't even tell me anything about the inner workings of Amato. He only ever told me exactly what I needed to know, out of fear I'd blab to Spence. And Spence, well...

Spence kept secrets from everyone.

"What about Rob?" I blurted without meaning to. But one of those secrets of his was fresh on my mind, and it came out before I had a chance to think it through in front of Dante.

Or in front of Spence, for that matter, who probably didn't know I'd been snooping at his house the other night and found Rob's name written down beside a Chicago area code.

Fuck. Was this about to get messy?

Spence's gaze flew over to me. He didn't say anything right away, but as his eyes narrowed with just a touch of suspicion, my body froze in place. He was reading me and, as always, doing a good job of it. I could never hide much from Spencer Lovejoy.

"What about Rob?" Dante interjected, none the wiser to our weird energy exchange or where I was going with that question. Thanks to Debbie and Marceline, everyone in Fairhaven knew that Rob had been caught making Bluejay, so I hadn't revealed any groundbreaking info just yet. "No one's heard a thing from him since he disappeared. We don't even know where he is."

I shifted on my feet. Because that was some groundbreaking info I did have.

The truth is, no one at Amato knew where Rob was. At least no one at Dante's level. But there were at least a couple of people who did know his location, and one of them was standing in the room with us.

The one who liked to keep secrets.

My eyes drifted back over to Spencer. He was still looking at me. Still studying me.

I shrugged and cleared my throat, turning to answer Dante. "He had Bluejay at his house."

"Yeah, I know. But we haven't heard a word since his house was searched, and he wasn't the only one around here messing with Bluejay, so I doubt he has anything to do with this. He also has no connection to Chicago..." His words drifted off on a thought, and he glanced at Spence. "Unless you know something about that, John."

I held my breath for his response, wondering if the truth was going to come out. But Spence's face gave nothing away. He only looked bored as he replied with another quick, "Nope."

I was immediately irritated.

As much as I knew the reasons for all the secrecy and holding information close to your chest, this didn't seem like the time for it. The potential connection to Dalton's death made all of these details hit a little too close to home.

Rob hiding out somewhere in Chicago felt a bit too fucking close to home.

"Whatever," Dante shrugged it off. He was undoubtedly working on his own plan for finding shit out anyway, so he remained unbothered as he turned his attention back to me. "Look, we'll figure this out. Stay in touch. I'll let you know when I have our next move."

As my brother headed for the door, Spence stepped in front of him. "What does that mean?"

"It means Davina's going on one last date with Alex," Dante said calmly, standing tall, unaffected by Spence's confrontational stance.

"Like fuck she is." His wide eyes shifted from Dante over to me. He made a face like I was out of my mind, then went back to Dante. The deep, dark tone of his voice sent a shiver up my spine when he said, "You are not using her as bait."

The severity in his eyes made me pause, those words choking me up like a hiccup in my heart. But Dante only laughed.

"Ever the watchful watchdog, Lovejoy," he said, giving him a condescending pat on the shoulder. "It's cute, really, but this is a family matter." Looking at me, he raised his brows in a silent take care of this, before turning back to Spence. "Now get the fuck out of my way."

Spence stayed right where he was. I swear you could have heard a pin drop as the two of them shared a heavy stare-down. Neither had ever looked so severe and determined for their own cause.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it sure felt like a lifetime before Spence finally stepped aside and Dante shouldered past him, leaving us together in my kitchen. The air was charged with tension, and the silence was loud.

"You're not going out with that asshole again," Spence finally said as he moved closer to me.

I inched away from his advance, despite my body wanting him close after the way he'd just come to my defense. As nice as it felt to have him worried for me, this mission to solve the mystery of Alex was more important. A family matter, just like Dante had said.

I squared my shoulders up and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yes, I am."

"No, you're not," he insisted. "It's not safe."

"I don't care. Alex lied to me. I want to know who he is and if he had anything to do with my brother's murder."

"Look," Spence sighed. "I know you want more details on what happened to Dalton. But it's not worth putting yourself at risk."

"Is Rob connected to this somehow?" My next words came out on an irritated impulse, surprising us both. But where I stood strong and waited for his answer, Spencer's shoulders sunk in defeat and he shook his head.

"What do you know about Rob?"

"I know he's in Chicago," I answered.

As soon as I said it, he took a quick glance around the room, like there was someone in there with us that might hear. I noted an uptick in his breathing, but he tried to slow it down with a deep breath.

"So, did you raid my cruiser?" he finally asked with a touch of disapproval in his tone. I'd been found out. "Steal my wallet? Go through my phone?"

"I saw the note on your counter the other night." I shrugged.

He nodded.

When he didn't say anything else, I spoke again. "If you have information that can help us, I need you to share it."

He shook his head. "I can't talk about Rob's case with you."

"Of course you can't," I let out a humorless laugh. "Gotta keep your secrets, right?"

"It's not about secrets."

"You're right. It's about Dalton and finding out who killed him."

"It's about more than just Dalton." His voice grew louder and he sounded as irritated as I felt. We'd hit yet another standstill, as always.

"Then what's it about?" I asked him.

Spence looked around the room again and then down at his watch. "I can't get into it right now. I have to go or I'll be late for work."

Nice deflection, once again.

"Fine," I snapped at him. "We'll figure it out without you."

"Davina, I'm begging you to leave it alone," he pleaded with me before he left. "I've had a bad fucking feeling all day and I don't want you to get hurt. Dante is careless and a criminal. If he puts something stupid in motion, he won't be able to protect you, and I might not be able to either."

"How can you even protect me, Spence?" All at once, my frustration came to a head.

To me, he had a lot of nerve suggesting that Dante was the only bad guy in this situation when he was holding valuable information and associated with his own brand of unsavory people at the river.

I shook my head at him, walked to the door and held it open for him. "You're just as bad as he is."

"No, I'm not," he said as he walked over the threshold and onto my porch. "I'm just trying to protect you like I promised I would."

That fluttery feeling whisked through my insides again, but I shut it down, not reveling in it like I had before.

"I don't need protection," I told Spence. "I need answers."