She gave me a patronizing glare. “I know all about discretion, missy. My job depends on it. And Ruthie won’t be talkin’ about it either. You’re just insultin’ me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, surprised to hear the venom in her voice. “This is just really important, is all.”

Her gaze softened. “I’m just gonna assume you’re used to working with amateurs and imbeciles. I can assure you that I wouldn’t be working with Mr. Malcolm if I were either of those things.”

I supposed not, but I was still having a hard time letting it go. “Could I make a copy of it before I drop it off?” I asked. “It’s my only copy at the moment. And just in case . . .”

“I lose it?” she asked in a dry tone, then burst out laughing. “I’m not gonna lose it, but it don’t hurt to have a Plan B.”

She took the paper from me, unfolded it, and placed it on the scanner of her printer. “I appreciate having a Plan B.” Once the copy rolled out, she handed the original page back to me with a grin. “I should have a translation for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you, Mellie.”

“Anything for Mr. Malcolm.”

Jed was still on the side of the house, deep in conversation on his phone, when we left the office.

“What do you think he’s talking about?” Neely Kate asked.

“Good question. But it looks serious.”

Jed nodded at us but stayed where he was while he finished his call.

“How come I never noticed how built Jed is until Dena started drooling over him?” Neely Kate asked.

His dark brown hair was cropped close, and he had a hit of stubble on his face, making it apparent he hadn’t shaved today. He was dressed in fitted jeans, a solid black T-shirt stretched tight over his muscles, and a black leather jacket.

I shrugged. “Probably because he sticks to the background and lets Skeeter take the spotlight.”

“Maybe.”

Jed hung up and made a move toward us. His expression was grim. “We need to get goin’.”

“What happened?” I asked. When Jed tried to move past me, I grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. “What happened?”

He gave me a long look—a war waging in his eyes—before he said, “Skeeter just heard from Simmons.”

A band squeezed around my chest, but I forced out, “Simmons Senior, I take it.”

He nodded. “He gave Skeeter an ultimatum.”

He reached out to open the car door, but I blocked him. “What’s the ultimatum, Jed?”

His eyes hardened. “We need to focus on finding Teagen and Marshal.”

“Don’t you dare do that. Don’t try to hide things from me. I expect more than that from you.”

“Rose, let it go.”

“I can find out on my own, you know,” I said. “I can force a vision.” But I didn’t want to. I was scared of what Jed knew and even warier of going into a vision blind.

When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “Was Skeeter gonna tell me?”

He paused, his shoulders tensing. “He’s thinking it over.”

If neither Jed nor Skeeter wanted to tell me, it couldn’t be good. “Why? What did he say?”

Jed pushed out a heavy sigh. “He wants you. He wants you delivered to the barn where the auction was held by ten tonight.”

I shook my head, trying to hide my fear. “What was the threat?”

“He didn’t specify.”

“That’s malarkey if I’ve ever heard it. If someone gives you an ultimatum, it usually comes with a threat to force the person to comply. What’s the threat?”

He studied my face, his eyes emotionless. “Someone you care about will pay the price.”

I sucked in a breath. “Who?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Bruce Wayne,” Neely Kate said quietly. “Anna snatched him for J.R. Or J.R. snatched them both.”

I put my hand to my forehead, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Why didn’t J.R. call me? He obviously has my number. Why call Skeeter?”

Jed hesitated. “I’m guessing it was a test,” he said. “To see if he’d tell you.”

That surprised me. Why would J.R. care whether he did or not? “Did he threaten Skeeter?”

“He didn’t have to.” When I gave him a questioning look, he added, “You’re Skeeter’s threat. Simmons knows he’ll go to great lengths to protect you.”

“Thus Skeeter’s test.” I pressed my back against the car. “Would he have told me?”

Jed opened his mouth to answer, but my phone started to vibrate in my pocket. I lifted my hand to hold him off, then pulled out the phone, not surprised to see Skeeter’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey, James,” I answered, my heart heavy.

“Jed told you.” His voice was stone cold.

“Not everything, but enough. I forced it out of him.”

His grunt implied he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“What did J.R. say? Who is he going to hurt?”

“He didn’t specify. But he says you’ll regret not goin’.”

“Bruce Wayne,” I said.

“Maybe. Probably.”

“So what do you propose we do?” I asked. “Callin’ his bluff isn’t a good idea, but I’m not fond of the idea of just handin’ myself over to him.”

“That is not an option,” he said tersely. “We’ll track the bastard down and get to him first. You head out to that garage, and I’ll work on some things on my end.”

I knew he was about to hang up, so I called out, “James. Wait.”

He paused, waiting.

“How’s Merv?”

“He’ll survive.”

I felt a load of guilt roll off my back. “Tell him thank you.”

“You tell him yourself the next time you see him,” Skeeter said. Then he hung up.

We had a timetable now, but we weren’t much closer to finding J.R. It was time to bring in reinforcements. We’d focus on our end of the investigating and hand another piece off to someone else.

I called Joe on the way to Big Bill’s, not giving Jed the chance to stop me.

“Rose,” Joe said when he answered, “You can’t keep calling me. I’m ass-deep in shit.”