“Interest,” Catalina said with a distant look that manifested when she did complicated math in her head. “With the 4.5 percent interest and finance charges, that’s about right. I can crunch the exact numbers for you.”

“That’s not fair. Buying on credit sucks,” Arabella declared.

“We would have to be attacked about three more times before we can pay the mortgage off,” I said. “We’d need six more ATVs to sell to buy Rogan out.”

Leon speared his strawberry with a fork. “I, for one, welcome our new Mad Rogan Overlord. I’m eager to learn and prove to be a valuable member of his team.”

“Shut up,” Catalina, Bernard, and Arabella said at the same time.

Leon squinted at them. “Maybe he’d let me have a gun, unlike some people.”

“You don’t need a gun,” Mom snapped.

“Do you even know where that overlord line is from?” Bern asked.

“A TV show.”

“No, you idiot, it’s from a movie called the Empire of the Ants. Look it up.” Bern’s phone chirped. He looked at it. “It’s Bug. Okay, so, two things. One, I have the video of the mercenary dude being loaded on the plane to Johannesburg, alive, like Rogan promised. Do you want to see it?”

“No.” Rogan was a controlling overbearing asshole, but when he gave his word, he kept it.

“Two, this morning I made a door in Scorpion’s server and Bug spent the last hour waltzing around in their confidential files. Scorpion was hired through an intermediary and paid by electronic transfer. Rogan’s people found the intermediary. He was paid in cash by an unidentified man.”

“How much?”

“Half a million.”

“We’re expensive, yus!” Arabella said.

“I left Scorpion a little present,” Bern said. “Bug activated it a couple of minutes ago, before hightailing it out of their servers.”

“What’s the present?” I asked.

“When they try to access their confidential files, they will find a marathon of Hello Kitty’s Paradise. All twelve years of it in the original Japanese.”

“I like Hello Kitty,” Matilda said.

Cornelius cleared his throat. “I feel partially responsible for this situation.”

Matilda reached over and petted his arm. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Everything stopped as all of us collectively struggled with an overload of cute.

“Thank you,” Cornelius told her. “But I’m responsible. I knew what was to come, or at least I suspected, yet I minimized that risk in our initial conversation.”

I sighed. “You didn’t minimize anything. I was aware of the risk when I took the job. The responsibility for everything that happened is on me.”

“Your outrage over Rogan’s actions is well warranted,” Cornelius said, obviously choosing his words carefully. “But the danger of your family being harmed or put under pressure is very real. He isn’t wrong.”

I dropped my napkin on the table. “I know he isn’t wrong in his assessment, Cornelius. I’m upset because he refuses to acknowledge that I’m also right.”

“If he’d come to you with all of it, you would never have agreed to the purchase,” Bernard said.

“Probably not, but at least I would’ve had a choice.”

“What choice?” he said.

“I don’t know.” I got up and went to rinse my plate.

“Are we going to school today?” Leon asked.

“No,” my mother said.

“Great.” Leon smiled. “Then I’m going to go outside and see if I can get a gun. Since my own family won’t let me have one, I’ll have to beg strangers.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Catalina asked.

“Do you think guns are just lying around outside?” Arabella asked. “Or did someone plant a gun tree in our parking lot?”

“Have any of you looked outside?” Leon asked. “Since the sunrise, I mean.”

Bern poked his phone. “He’s right. I think we should look outside.”

I got up and marched down the hallway, through the office, and to the front door, my entire family behind me. I pushed the door open.

An armored transport rolled past us, carefully staying on the other side of a white line someone had painted on the pavement around our property. Across the street, a team of military-looking people installed an M198 Howitzer. A mobile howitzer that resembled a tank roared down the street in the opposite direction. To the right, an observation tower was going up, put together by another military-looking crew. Two severely groomed people in tactical gear double-timed it past us. The one on the left was leading what looked like an abnormally large grizzly on a ridiculously thin leather leash. The grizzly wore a leather harness marked “Sergeant Teddy.”

My mother’s mouth hung open.

Grandma Frida elbowed my mom in the ribs. “Pinch me, Penelope. It’s Fort Sill.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

A trim woman about my age approached the white line and stopped. Her straight dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her skin was a rich medium brown with an olive tint, her eyes were dark, and her features pointed at both African and possibly Latino heritage. She wore a beige pantsuit.

“Melosa Cordero with a message from Mad Rogan,” she said. “Permission to enter?”

This was ridiculous. “Sure.”

She stepped over the white line.

“The major regrets that his presence makes you uncomfortable; however, he wants me to inform you that Baranovsky’s shindig is tomorrow, so he respectfully suggests that you go shopping. I’m to accompany you. I’m authorized to make purchases on his behalf.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Rogan wouldn’t be paying for anything else of mine if I could help it. “You’re free to go. I’ll buy my own dress, Ms. Cordero.”

“Please call me Mel. He said you would say that. I’m to tell you that—” She cleared her throat and said in a deeper voice, obviously quoting, “This is strictly business. Don’t throw a tantrum, Nevada. It’s not like you.”

A tantrum, huh? I made a heroic effort to keep my mouth shut. I was reasonably sure that if I opened it, I’d breathe fire and melt her face off.

“He said that if you got this look on your face, I’m to tell you that I’m an aegis,” Melosa said. “I’m ranked as Significant and I’m a trained bodyguard. My mission is to shield you and Cornelius. I’m also to remind you that the safety of your client is your first priority.”

I pulled out my phone and texted Rogan.

Thank you so much for providing us with an aegis. So kind of you.

My pleasure. Is there anything else I can do for you?

As a matter of fact there is. Make a fist and hit yourself with it.

Is this the part where I tell you some ridiculously condescending line about how attractive you are when you’re angry?

Do you actually have a death wish?

Are you going to do something about it?

Argh.

“Cornelius?” I asked. “Your agreement with Rogan is terminated once we discover the identity of your wife’s killer?”