Savannah unbuckled and started scooting back over the center console.
One very cramped game of musical chairs later, Grayson continued issuing orders. “Nash, make sure the puzzle box stays out of view. Find something to throw over it.”
Nash considered his options, then stripped off his worn white T-shirt. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell ’em I run hot.”
Gigi blinked several times, as if the sight of Nash Hawthorne shirtless had broken her brain.
“Get out of the car,” Grayson told her with a gentle nudge. “Savannah and I will follow. Xander will wave and drive off. Savannah, do not under any circumstances volunteer the information that this is your car. And if you are specifically asked—about the car, about anything else—feign outrage. No answers. Gigi—”
“Trust me, my sister isn’t going to be feigning outrage,” Gigi said cheerfully. “We all have to play to our strengths, am I right? Luckily, I am still highly caffeinated, and I can get drunk just thinking about mimosas.” She closed her eyes. “Mimosas,” she whispered, and then she opened them. “The guys in suits won’t know what hit them.”
CHAPTER 72
GRAYSON
Savannah and Juliet Grayson?” An FBI agent intercepted the three of them at the end of the driveway.
“She goes by Gigi,” Savannah replied. “Not Juliet.”
Cool tone, nonanswer, Grayson thought. Well done, Savannah.
“We’ll need you two to stay out here while we finish our search.” Mr. FBI didn’t so much as try to soften that statement with a smile. “May I ask who just dropped you off?”
“You may not,” Grayson said, looking past the agent. That was another of Tobias Hawthorne’s many tricks for seizing control. Sometimes, staring a person down did nothing but give them power. And why would a Hawthorne ever do that? “I assume,” Grayson continued, “that the lady of the house has a copy of the warrant?”
That wasn’t really a question. It was a signal to the agent: Grayson was the type of person capable of reading the fine print—and enforcing it.
“And who are you?” the FBI agent asked, his eyes narrowing.
Grayson looked past him again, as if this entire encounter were quite boring. “A person under no legal obligation to answer your questions at this time.” Grayson’s visual search finally hit on the person he’d been looking for: Acacia. She was standing in between the fountain and the portico, flanked by agents herself.
“Mom!” Gigi practically leapt forward. The agent who had been questioning Grayson stepped in front of her. When Gigi attempted to dodge around him, he grabbed her arm.
“Remove your hand from my sister’s body,” Savannah said. “Now.” That now was impressive. It should have been effective. Coming from Grayson, it would have been.
But in response to his sister’s demand, the agent just held up his free hand. “Let’s all just calm down here,” he said, like Savannah was hysterical
Grayson let his gaze travel to the man’s face. “She sounded perfectly calm to me.”
“Look, kid—”
Grayson arched a brow. “Do I look like a kid to you?” There was a reason he’d started wearing suits as a teenager.
If you’re not wondering who the hell you’re talking to by now—you really should be.
Out loud, Grayson opted for a different statement. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go acquaint myself with the limitations of your warrant.”
Hawthornes didn’t wait to be excused. Grayson started walking. Savannah followed suit. Gigi, on the other hand, stayed at the end of the drive, staring owlishly at the FBI agent.
“Are you all right, Miss Grayson?”
Grayson glanced back. Gigi continued staring at the agent, unblinking, intense. Then she shrugged. “Still not telekinetic,” she announced, before flitting past the agent. She hooked her arms through Savannah’s. “You never know until you try.”
“You shouldn’t agitate the agents,” Acacia told the three of them quietly. She stood with her hands by her sides, her posture straight, looking paler than Grayson had seen her. “There’s no need for it. They’ll be done shortly.”
You almost but didn’t quite sell your confidence in that statement, Grayson thought. Acacia was shaken—badly—and only showing it a little.
“They’re tearing our home apart,” Savannah said, her voice low, as two agents walked by carrying parts of a computer. Acacia drew in a jagged breath.