“Which explains why he’s always around her house and in so many photos,” Max said, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yeah,” Nicolas agreed. “To make a long story short, Martin changed his, and his four brothers’, last name in an effort to keep them away from the kinds of activities his parents had been involved in. They lived in Maryland near Louise and Geoffrey Charter until they all graduated from college. There were some minor incidents with the law, but Geoffrey got them through it.”

Max leaned against the wall. “So he was born into an Italian family with ties to the Mafia, but apparently he did everything possible to keep himself and his brothers out of that kind of life.”

Kaden flicked Max a quick glance. “It does sound that way, doesn’t it? What else did Lily find, Nico?”

“All the brothers went into the service. Martin led the way, and the rest followed. Most of them went to college and then joined. Martin joined and went to school while he served. He provided for the others along with the Charters.” Nicolas looked up at Max.

“I know he’s been in a couple of fights,” Max said. “Haven’t we all?”

“Did you know his brother Roman has been in and out of the brig a dozen times and has been busted several times down from his rank as an officer? He’s been a troublemaker both in and out of the service.”

“We all have relatives,” Max said.

“Not all,” Dahlia objected.

“Ma cher.” Gator pressed his hand to his heart. “There you go again. Denying our relationship.”

Dahlia smiled and blew him a kiss.

Nicolas’s black gaze settled on Gator’s face. Gator just winked at him, flashing his bad boy grin.

“Quit baiting the tiger,” Kaden advised.

“Alligators eat tigers for breakfast,” Gator bragged, his white teeth bared as he leaned his hip lazily against the wall near the door.

The knife came out of nowhere, flying so fast it was a blur through the air, driving into the wall and taking the ends of Gator’s shiny black hair with it.

Laughter erupted while Dahlia stared in horror at the blade buried nearly to the hilt in the wall. She hadn’t felt the slightest surge of energy, violent or otherwise. Nicolas looked innocently at her. Gator shrugged his wide shoulders, the grin still in place as if someone throwing a knife at him was commonplace.

“You all are nuts,” she declared. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Actually, ’tite soeur, it was,” Gator said and pulled the knife free. He sauntered over to Nicolas and handed him the weapon, handle first. “I’d fight over you anytime, little sister, and if your man wouldn’t, he’s not much of a man.”

Dahlia frowned at them. “It’s a wonder any of you are still alive.” She began flipping through the photos. “By the way, just for the record, when I go into the building tonight, I don’t want anyone around. You all worry too much about me, especially Nicolas, and I can’t afford a backlash of energy. All of you will have to just stay put.”

Nicolas raised his eyebrow, his tough features completely expressionless.

“That’s a big negative,” Sam said.

“I don’t think so,” Kaden objected simultaneously.

Gator just laughed. “Oh, ma cher, your sense of humor is growing being around us all.” The smile widened. “Or are you just trying to give Nico heart failure?”

She ignored him and looked at Max. “They seemed to forget I’ve managed all these years without them.”

“What exactly are you planning on doing, Dahlia?” Max asked.

There was a sudden silence. They all looked at her. “Well, gee, Max, I don’t know. Something to do with my job. You know, that highly classified job we both share.”

“I don’t see Jesse here giving you orders.”

“No you don’t, do you, because he’s laid up in a hospital somewhere and I’m going to find out who put him there.” Dahlia’s black eyes flashed, glittering like hard gems. “They killed Milly and Bernadette, Max. And I’m finishing my job.”

“Did you talk to the admiral?”

“I don’t have to talk to the admiral to finish my job.”

Max shook his head and looked over at Nicolas. “And you’re fine with this?”

Before Nicolas could reply, Dahlia glared daggers at Max. “He has nothing to do with it. He doesn’t work for the NCIS, I do. He isn’t my boss. Just back off trying to be intimidating, because it irritates the hell out of me.” And it did. Her temper was rising in direct proportion to the testosterone levels in the room.

Nicolas was happy to see the real Dahlia back in fighting form. She didn’t lie down for anyone. Not that she was going anywhere as dangerous as Lombard Inc. without the GhostWalkers to protect her, but what was the use in arguing with her? He wasn’t going to change, and neither was she. It was good practice for the men to have to guard their emotions carefully in the field. He met Maxwell’s eyes. The man subsided immediately with a small nod of understanding.

“See anything in the photos?” Tucker asked. “I looked through them, but I was mainly looking for places, more than people. I know you think Charter’s not involved, Dahlia, but I did find this.” He passed a pen deliberately to Max to give her.

Max sucked in his breath, reading the advertisement for Lombard Inc. Without a word, he handed it to Dahlia.

She took it reluctantly, turning it in circles. “Anyone could have given this to her. They’re everywhere. It’s a big company.”

“It’s a tie to her,” Nicolas said. “And to Martin.”

“What other information do you have on him?” Max asked.

“Lily’s thorough. We have everything from his grades to his classified missions, but what interests me the most is his relationship with his family. He’s an extremely loyal man. Not only to his siblings, but also to Louise Charter. I think it’s genuine. I think he’d exhibit the same loyalty to his country and to the NCIS and his friends,” Nicolas mused aloud.

Kaden nodded. “I see where you’re going with this.”

“I don’t,” Dahlia said. “Are you eliminating our only suspects?”

“Who else has access to the Charter home, Dahlia?” Nicolas asked. “Who else would come and go?”

Her fingers curled around the photos. “But how would they get classified information? Louise knows me, knows my clearance, and the only thing she really told me in the entire conversation was Jesse’s condition and that’s because no directive came down saying it was to be treated as classified. She’d never sit down to dinner, even with someone she considered a son, and reveal government secrets.” Dahlia shook her head. “I don’t know Martin Howard, but if he’s as solid as you all say, I can’t imagine he would be that chatty either.”

“Trust me, he would never say a word, accidentally or not,” Max affirmed.

“No, but his brothers would have access to both the Charter home and her office. She would allow them to come see her at work, even meet her to have lunch, that kind of thing. The same with Martin. Why would they ever suspect a family member of planting bugs? Techs go over the computers, but considering there’s so much security in the rest of the buildings, how often do you think the offices are swept? Even if a bug was found on the secretary’s phone or her computer was attacked, would anyone suspect a member of her family?” Kaden explained it carefully. “I think it would work over time, drop in, have lunch, pass the time, no one would give him a thought. He could collect a lot of information.”

“Which brother?” Max asked.

“My bet is on the troublemaker, Roman. He tried to follow in his big brother’s footsteps but wasn’t successful. He tried for the Green Beret and wasn’t accepted. He tried for the psychic experiment program and his troublemaking record blew it for him. Without Martin’s interference, he very well might have gotten a dishonorable discharge. He’s out of the service now and claims to be a student, and self-employed, but Lily’s investigator couldn’t figure out what he does.”

“A student where?” Dahlia asked.

“Rutgers,” Nicolas said in his quiet voice.

Dahlia spun around and stared at Nicolas. “It has to be him. How could it be such a coincidence?”

“What does Rutgers have to do with it?” Max asked. “I know that Jesse was poking around there.”

“Rutgers lost a few professors with grants to develop a new weapon for the defense department,” Dahlia explained.

“So there’s definitely a tie-in between Jesse’s investigation and where Roman Howard goes to college,” Kaden said.

Dahlia began to rotate the spheres again as the energy in the room began to build. The men were working at keeping their reactions very low-key, but they were human. “If it’s Roman, and he doesn’t work for the NCIS, how would he have been able to go out with the NCIS team to the safe house to take a potshot at me?”

“More likely, he followed them and waited on top of a building for them to point the way. Once he knew where you were, he took his shot and got the hell out of there,” Kaden said. “That’s what I would have done.”

She sent him a faint smile. “How very reassuring. I think all of you need some lessons in passive behavior.” She turned her wrist over as she levitated the spinning balls in her hand. “It’s getting late, gentlemen, and I’ve got work to do.”

She stood up, stretched, and pushed the small spheres into her pocket. She glanced down at the handful of photographs. The top picture seemed to be of a woman sitting on a wrought iron bench overlooking a river. Dahlia went very still. The woman had her back to the camera, but she looked familiar. And the river was all too familiar as well. She looked up at Nicolas, sorrow in her eyes.

Tekihila, my love, what is it? You look as if you could shatter at any moment.

Dahlia immediately straightened her shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to change.” Clutching the photographs, she hurried to the room she was using as her private refuge. She knew, without looking, that Nicolas was right behind her.

He waited until she closed the door before he took the photograph from her hand. “Who is it?”

“Look at the picture. Look at the knitting basket. That’s Bernadette. She’s sitting on the bench overlooking the river right there by the Café du Monde.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

“Roman was following her.”

“How?” She turned to look at him, her face so pale her skin looked translucent. “You tell me, how could he know about Bernadette?”

She was so agitated he could feel the heat in the room. Sparks touched the curtains, licked at the edges of the walls. Nicolas took the pictures from her hand and tossed them on the bed, enfolded her into his arms and locked her against his body. She was trembling. He bent low, his mouth against her ear. “We can do this together, Dahlia. You’re not alone, and whatever we find we can handle together.”

“Do you think she betrayed me, and they killed her after they used the information?” She was angry. So angry she wanted to fling fireballs in every direction. How could Bernadette do such a thing to her? To Milly? For what? Dahlia had all the money they needed. The women never wanted for anything. If they bought it, the trust fund paid for it, no questions asked.

“You aren’t thinking clearly,” Nicolas kept an eye on the flames lengthening, spreading up the walls. In another minute, he would be forced to take action. He wanted her to control herself before the fire got out of hand. “If they found you at the NCIS, they must have found Bernadette and Milly. You would have been impossible to stalk, your movements were too unpredictable, but the two older women would have had a routine. They had to follow them to find the sanitarium and ultimately, you.”