A sign on top of the ice cream shack lit up, the deep red light reminding me of the ruby necklace I’d stolen—a necklace someone had joked about at dinner tonight.
But how would any of the Sinclairs have even known about the necklace? It wasn’t like I had mentioned it to anyone, and Mo would never gossip about something like that. With the three guards dead, the only way . . . the only way anyone could know was if the accountant had told about it. I doubted that, since the accountant would want to save face and keep his affair as quiet as possible. But what if the three guards had blabbed between the night of the theft and the attack at the Razzle Dazzle? What if they’d shared that juicy bit of gossip with the person who’d hired them to attack Devon?
My steps faltered, my mind reeling at the implications. But once I made that first connection, another one quickly fell into place, like a tumbler on a lock. The identity of the person joking about the accountant with Reginald.
Click.
My eyes zoomed over to the arcade entrance. And I remembered that I’d seen that same someone who knew about the ruby necklace talking to Volkov guards a few days later, right before Devon’s first fake date with Poppy.
Click.
Someone who probably knew all about Devon’s Talent, since he lived under the same roof with Devon.
Click.
“Grant,” I whispered.
“What? What did you say, Lila?” Mo asked.
“It’s Grant,” I repeated. “He’s the one behind the attacks on Devon. He arranged them all.”
“Are you sure? Why would he do that? He’s the Family broker. He’s about as high up on the food chain as you can get.”
“Exactly,” I murmured. “So Grant would know the accountant and his guards. Well enough to hire the guards for a side job, anyway. And since he is the broker, he has access to all the Sinclair money. Including enough to hire some Volkov guards for the second attempt.”
The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Then another, more chilling thought filled my mind.
“Oh no,” I whispered, more to myself than to Mo. “Grant is with Devon right now.”
Alone. In a dark parking lot. The same place where Devon had already been ambushed once before, the night his father was killed after that New Year’s Eve party.
“Grant’s going to try again,” I said, starting to run. “Call Claudia! Tell her what’s going on! And track my phone!”
“Lila, wait—”
I hung up on Mo, yanked up my jacket, and slid my phone into one of the hidden slots in my belt. Then I sucked down a breath and raced toward the parking lot. My heels clack-clack-clacked on the cobblestones, making far too much noise for me to sneak up on anyone, so I stopped long enough to yank them off. My purse fell from my hand and tumbled away, so did my shoes, but I ran on. The cobblestones were still warm from the heat of the day, although small bits of dirt, gravel, and glass scraped into the soles of my bare feet. I gritted my teeth against the uncomfortable sensations and kept going.
I reached the edge of the parking lot and forced myself to stop and hunker down in the shadows. Only a few cars remained, since most of the Family members had already left, but I was able to creep from one pool of darkness to the next, easing closer and closer to the Sinclair section. Finally, I stopped, crouched down, and peered around the corner of a black sports car with the Salazar hacienda emblazoned on the door.
Thirty feet away, Grant and Devon were leaning against the side of the SUV. I let out a breath. Maybe I wasn’t too late after all. Still, I stayed where I was in the shadows, staring into the darkness around me. Because if Grant was going to ambush Devon, then he wouldn’t do it alone. He was too much of a coward for that.
“Where’s Lila?” Devon said. “Do you think something’s happened to her?”
“Nah,” Grant replied, a bit of a sneer creeping into his voice. “She probably decided to stop and pick a few pockets in the Midway.”
“Why would you say that?”
“She’s a thief, Devon,” Grant replied, the sneer a little louder this time. “You and Felix might have forgotten that, but I haven’t.”
“Lila is more than just a thief.”
“Why?” Grant asked. “Because you want to get into her pants? Don’t be stupid. That girl is nothing but trouble. The only reason she’s probably still at the mansion is that she’s casing the place and trying to figure out what she can take with her when she goes.”
Devon shook his head. “Lila’s not like that. Yeah, she’s a thief. But she wouldn’t steal from the Family. Not now.”
“Whatever,” Grant muttered. “If she’s not here in five minutes, we’re leaving without her.”
I didn’t see anyone lurking in the shadows, so I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Felix.
Grant behind attacks. With Devon right now @ the car.
Call Mo. He’ll know what to do.
Then I put my phone on silent, slid it into that slot on my belt again, and started creeping forward. I could have called out to Devon, but I was betting that Grant had at least one weapon, maybe more, and I didn’t want to risk his hurting Devon—
“You know,” Grant said. “I’ve been waiting for this night for a long, long time.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?”
He grinned. “So I could finally do this.”
I rushed forward, even though I knew I was going to be too late.
Grant pulled a dagger out from the small of his back. Before I could scream out a warning, Grant whipped around, raised the weapon high, and brought it down, aiming at Devon’s chest.
But Devon must have seen the glint of the metal because he raised his hands, blocking the attack.
“Grant? What the hell, man?” Devon asked, his voice full of shock.
Grant let out an angry snarl, snapped up his fist, and punched Devon in the face. Dazed, Devon staggered back against the SUV, and Grant raised his dagger again.