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“Ass,” Ian muttered, but it at least sounded like he was trying hard not to laugh at Hollis’s ridiculousness.

“But I thought Anthony Bourdain had all these rivalries. And I thought there were a bunch of chefs who would get into fistfights on the proper way to prepare duck.”

Ian relaxed even more. “Yes, chefs can get territorial, and there are a lot of us who can be…strongly opinionated on how to prepare certain dishes. But there aren’t any chefs that I’ve started kitchen wars with. I actually don’t know that many, and we’re just on very light, passing-acquaintance terms.”

“So…you’ve not pissed off any customers, you’ve got one potentially disgruntled ex-employee after being in business for four years, and you haven’t started any wars with other chefs or restaurant owners,” Hollis recapped with a wink.

“You’re correct.”

“Didn’t Rowe set up security cameras?”

“I have outside ones in both front and back, but it would take forever to watch all that footage.” He paused his folding. “I wonder if Gidget could work some of her tech magic. Figure out a way to go through those tapes without having to watch every second, though I don’t know what we’d be looking for.”

“Anything that stands out. Anyone leaving pissed—that sort of thing. Or anyone who returns to the area frequently but doesn’t go in. And if we’re going to use Gidget, then we could get Quinn to look into the IP addresses of these bad reviews. Maybe he could find something. I’ll see if I can get Shane to sweet-talk his boyfriend into helping us.”

Hollis noted that Ian had gone still, his hands tightening on the towel he was in the middle of folding. It was clear that some new thought had occurred to him, and Hollis was waiting for him to finally voice it.

“If we ask for help from Gidget and Quinn, Rowe is going to find out about what’s happening,” Ian started, his voice low and thoughtful. “And if Rowe knows, then you know it’s going to be only a matter of minutes before Snow and Lucas find out.”

Hollis stopped in the middle of reaching for another shirt and straightened. Ian wasn’t one to hide things from Rowe and the others, except for maybe his poor sleeping habits. All four men leaned heavily on each other and were always eager to help each other out. They’d want to know that Ian was having trouble. “You don’t want your family to find out? You know they’d be happy to help.”

“And you know their form of ‘help,’ ” Ian said irritably. “I would get pushed to the side where it was safe while they handled everything.”

There was absolutely no argument Hollis could give to that. It was the truth. Everyone in the family was incredibly protective of Ian. They did whatever they could to keep Ian as far from danger as possible.

And Ian had just wrangled a promise out of him to keep Ian at the center of their investigation. There was little chance of them getting the same promise from Rowe and the boys.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Hollis’s lips, and Ian arched one brow at him in question.

“What are you thinking?” Ian asked.

“Shane could ask Quinn not to tell Rowe about his little research project,” Hollis suggested.

“You mean co-opt Quinn to work secretly for us? That’s devious. I love it!” Ian gave a wicked little laugh and rubbed his hands together.

“What about Gidget? Do you think you could talk to Gidget without Rowe knowing it?”

Ian straightened and crossed his arms over his chest for a moment before starting to tap one finger against his pursed lips as he thought. It took only a few seconds for a smile to spread across his lips. The wicked thing was sending blood straight to Hollis’s cock. Ian didn’t have a damn evil bone in his body, but when he was in the mood to be a little sneaky…fuck, Hollis lost his freaking mind every time.

“I was just thinking that I haven’t brought food to the Ward Security team in a few months. Maybe it’s time to try out a few new recipes.”

Hollis shook his head as he chuckled. There was no better way to distract all the employees of Ward Security than to have Ian bring in trays of free food.

They both returned to the piles of laundry in front of them, smiling to themselves.

“There’s no way to track down who reported you to ICE or who got the health inspector on your ass today. I already looked into that.”

Ian nodded. “Okay, but at least Quinn and Gidget could give us some good leads. We’ve got a starting point. And that’s way better than just sitting here, waiting for the person to strike again.”

Ian stacked more towels on the coffee table, then reached for the basket of jeans. Hollis learned to wash those all on their own now after he’d ruined a couple of Ian’s shirts. He used to just throw everything in together, but Ian had been absolutely horrified. A smile crossed his lips as the memory drifted through his brain. He picked up another T-shirt and quickly folded it, noticing it was mostly rolled up. He saw Ian eyeing the shirt and chuckled. He refolded the T-shirt the way Ian liked that time.

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