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“I’m an excellent shot,” I said with a wide grin.

“That’s what worries me,” Boxer joked.

I looked at Colt. “You have a range out back?”

“Yeah, we use it as a place to blow off steam. It’s nice owning property.”

My cell buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, hoping it was a text from Shelly.

No dice.

It was an unknown number, but I refused to answer it. It was probably Dev. I silenced the call and stuck my phone into my back pocket. A moment later, I felt a buzz, knowing I had a voicemail.

Colt and Boxer were talking so I got up off Colt’s lap to get some distance. I pressed the voicemail button and listened to it, releasing a slow breath when I realized it wasn’t Dev.

When the message ended, I stood for a moment in the kitchen, feeling dazed.

“Babe?” Colt called. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay,” I murmured.

Colt and Boxer exchanged a look and then Boxer got up. “I’m gonna grab a shower. Then I want to see her shoot.”

He saluted me before he left the room.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Colt said, getting up from the recliner and coming to me.

“Richie’s lawyer just called me.” I met Colt’s dark brown gaze. “And he wants to meet with me.”

“Name?”

“Santoro. Leo Santoro.”

“I’ll check him out. See if he’s who he says he is. Then we’ll go together, okay?”

Leo Santoro was a short man with very little black hair left on his balding head. He was somewhere in the age bracket of forty-five to sixty-five. His brown suit did nothing for his appearance, and made him look like every other two-bit hack-job of an attorney. He was just the sort of lawyer I’d expect to represent Richie.

“Miss O’Banion,” he greeted, standing up from behind his cluttered desk. “Thank you for coming.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. It was clammy, and it took all of my willpower not to wipe my palm on my jeans right in front of him.

The room he called an office was musty and smelled of mildew. A shaft of sunlight crept through a dirty glass window and dust floated in the air, backlit so that it was much too obvious.

“Would you and your…companion like something to drink?” Leo’s eyes flicked over Colt, who stood in front of the closed door, looking menacing and ferocious.

“This is my boyfriend,” I said quickly, noting the look of displeasure on Colt’s face. He clearly didn’t like the lawyer any more than I did. “And we’re fine. Thank you.”

I took a seat in an old, wooden chair. It wasn’t very comfortable and looked like it was about to collapse.

“Perhaps your boyfriend would like to wait outside?” Leo asked. “This is a private legal matter.”

“That’s okay. It’s fine if he stays,” I stated.

Leo shrugged. “Your prerogative. Let’s get down to it then. You’re here because Richie DeMarco ordered the transfer of the deed to Dive Bar directly to you.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Leo opened his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. He flipped it open and took out the top paper and handed it to me. “This is the deed to Dive Bar. Richie set things up weeks ago so that you would get the bar—which is fully paid off, by the way. So long as you remain in good standing with yearly property taxes, business licenses, and insurance, the bar is yours.”

“Hegaveme Dive Bar?” I asked, taking the deed but not reading it. “I didn’t even know he owe it.”

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