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“Yup.” Viv had her arms crossed again and leaned back in her seat, looking belligerent.

“Now,” Jay said, breaking up the sibling shit. “How do I know there’s a bridal shower for Amanda’s friend’s third wedding? Because the bridal shower address is in the security notes, and because I looked Muffy up to see who she was that Mrs. Amanda Harcourt would fly twenty-four hours all the way home for tea and cucumber sandwiches.”

“Can you do it?” Viv asked.

“Do what?” Jay asked.

“Throw your name in the hat as the chauffeur? Wouldn’t that take out the dangerous step?”

Jay put his hand on his chest. “I’m not driver-qualified.”

“But you're trained for tactical combat driving. You did that for the military,” Viv said.

Jay scrubbed a hand over his face to remind himself to stay patient. Viv didn’t know how to listen through a tactical idea, asking questions and poking holes in the plan once it was revealed start to end. This wasn’t her wheelhouse. He could be patient. “There’s a test, Viv, and I haven’t taken it. I didn’t take it because I don’t want to be credentialed for that job. I want to look in women’s handbags at the executive mansion, and hand people their visitor pins. I’m not taking a damned bullet for some piece of elite shit. Just not happening. Mother with a baby? Kid in danger? Yeah. But the executive crowd that makes a thousand times what I do and looks down their noses at me? No way in hell. I figure karma needs some space to do her work. Besides, Mrs. Harcourt has her preference for a driver. He’s Hollywood-ready, and he’s at her service.” Jay raised his eyebrows.

“You know that to be true?” Ben asked.

“It’s a rumor,” Jay said. “But I’ve never met her. So … does it matter?”

“It does,” Ben said. “If he’s banging her, he might be extra protective because he has his job on the line and his piece of wealthy pie.”

“You think that’s enough to make a man risk himself?” Wade asked.

“I think we’re thinking two different things.” Ben moved the ice from one side of his jaw to the other. “If I was banging the woman, wouldn’t that give me power over her? Not from a ‘she loves me’ point of view but more from an ‘I’ve got a secret that your hubby wouldn’t like’ angle?”

“You never know,” Wade said. “Some men like to see other men bang their wives. Or they could have an agreement that she bangs who she wants, and he bangs who he wants. They keep it on the down-low, and all’s good.”

“Could be a lavender marriage,” Viv said.

“So the crypto money plan involves Amanda Harcourt,” Wade said. “How does that work?”

“Amanda goes to the party. Once the guests have arrived and there’s no more traffic, Vivian makes a call to Amanda and says she’s calling from a veterinary hospital and that Mrs. Harcourt’s dog Barnabas was found injured in the road. Can she come right away?”

“No one’s going to hurt Barnabas right?” Viv asked.

“Right,” Jay assured her.

“She flew twenty-four hours to eat finger sandwiches,” Vivian said. “Would she leave early?”

“For Barnabas?” Jay asked. “Absolutely. In a second. Drop everything and scramble.”

“She wouldn’t call to make sure? I mean, these AI kidnapping ruses are in the news,” Vivian said.

“You’ll give her the name of a real hospital, and we’ll get an Internet phone number. We’ll have a recorded message, saying they’re with another client, please leave a message, and they’ll call right back.”

“To what end?” Vivian asked.

“Because Ben is going to get on the garage roof and hang out in the leaves of an overhanging oak with his dart gun.”

Wade turned to Ben. “You still have that?”

“I do, but—”

“When Amanda Harcourt runs out of the house, calling out for her driver—”

“She’ll yell?” Vivian asked. “She won’t text him?”

“She’ll be panicked. She’ll say something about needing to go. Kiss-kiss. Then run outside and look for the car.” Jay turned to Ben. “The car will be parked, according to our security plans, in the driving circle, by the front door. The chauffeur will open the passenger’s door. It will be on the driver’s side, and those doors will face the house. As soon as the driver shuts the passenger door and reaches for his own door handle, you shoot the dart.”