“You again?” The cop shook his head. “What do you have for us this time?”

“No idea, but he tried to run me over with his motorbike, and his cronies did their best to set the brewery on fire.” Val nodded at the smoky interior.

“They used a Molotov cocktail, Officer,” Yuka chipped in. “They meant business.”

“There were six. Five bolted,” Val explained. “This one was, uh, incapacitated during the fight.”

“Good grief.” Officer Harris surveyed the crumpled bike. “What did you do to him?”

“Self-defense.” Val raised her chin.

Officer Harris shook his head as he leaned over to peer at the guy, then stiffened.

“What?” Val asked.

“He’s also from that organized crime syndicate I told you about.” Harris straightened. “This has to be connected to the ambush at the house.”

An ambulance arrived, and when the medics descended on Gold Tooth, Val and Harris stepped away.

“Have you found any concrete ties to BrewCorp?” Val asked.

Harris frowned. “No. Only a very angry CEO who was inches from filing a restraining order against your friends there.” He nodded at Blair and Yuka. “You need to be careful, Miss Stonehold. The last thing they need is a lawsuit.”

“We had to try to stop him.” Val held his gaze. “You guys can’t prove he’s involved, but I know he is. You need to search harder.”

Harris raised his hands. “Easy. I’m only a beat cop. I’m no investigator.”

“You know I’m right.” Val folded her arms.

Harris sighed. “I’ve read the files, and I agree, but we can’t arrest someone based on a hunch, Miss Stonehold. We need actionable evidence to get warrants and subpoenas.”

Val shook her head. “In the meantime, I now need to protect the brewery and their home.”

“I’ll increase patrols in this area.” Officer Harris grimaced. “Apart from that, my hands are tied unless you want a protection detail.”

“I’ve got it handled. Thanks,” Val growled.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Miss Stonehold.” Harris paused, then cracked a smile. “I see you took me up on the cage-fighting suggestion.”

Val let her hands fall to her sides. “It was a good one.”

“You cost me plenty of money when you threw Donovan Houser through the cage,” Harris added.

Val shrugged. “Didn’t know it was against the rules.”

“I don’t think it’s against the rules. I think it technically isn’t possible.” Harris studied her closely. “Then again, I won’t ask what happened to the bike.”

Val grinned. “Best not to.”

Harris watched as the medics wheeled Gold Tooth to the ambulance.

“A word of advice, Miss Stonehold?” he offered.

Val shrugged. “You give good advice. Shoot.”

Officer Harris held her gaze, his expression serious. “Stick to bodyguarding. Let us investigate.”

Val held his gaze. “We’ll see about that.”

Genevieve hummed through Williamsburg, which looked strange in daylight. Val seldom saw the neighborhood except during evenings and nights at the Iron Fist. The morning light harshly illuminated its many flaws: the litter in the streets, the homeless huddled on corners, and school-aged kids carrying backpacks that clinked with spray paint bottles.

Any one of those kids could get sucked into the gang life that produced Gold Tooth and his friends. Val drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. What was the link between the gang and BrewCorp? It had to be mutually beneficial. Bloated monsters feeding one another.

“You okay, Val?” Liam ventured from the passenger seat. “You’re quiet this morning.”

Val blinked and shook her head as she stopped at an intersection. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be your emotional support animal, and instead, I’m sitting here with a storm cloud over my head.”

“Don’t apologize.” Liam grinned. “You’re the one who told me it’s okay not to be okay.”

Val snorted. “I’m sure I never said that.”

“Not in so many words, but I understood the sentiment.” Liam tilted his head. “So, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Val assured him. “Just preoccupied with this frustrating thing I’ve got going on with Blair and Yuka.”

“I noticed vibes between you and Tetra at the Fist last night,” Liam observed quietly.

Val rubbed a shoulder. “Yeah, that too. Let’s not talk about it right now. You need to focus on your appointment with the counselor.”

“It’s okay, Val. I’m doing better,” Liam told her. “My sessions aren’t as taxing now. That’s why I said I could drive myself.”

“Hey, I said I’d drive you, and I’m sticking with it.” Val grinned. “You’re doing great, but it’s emotionally exhausting. Who wants to deal with driving through Brooklyn traffic after a session like that?”

Liam grinned. “I’m not complaining about my weekly spin in a Mustang Mach 1.”

Genevieve revved her engine as they accelerated across the intersection.

“Excuse me.” Liam inclined his head. “The Mustang Mach 1.”

Val laughed nervously and kneed Genevieve firmly in the dashboard. The Mustang grumbled.

“I heard about the fight at the brewery yesterday,” Liam added. “Blair mentioned that they could have burned it down.”

“It was a screw-up,” Val growled. “They almost set the place on fire. We have to worry about arson now, as well as the threats against Blair and Yuka, and the NYPD still can’t tie BrewCorp to the gang. They’ve been after that gang for years. They’ll never catch them.” She slammed a hand on the wheel. “I can’t let Blair and Yuka live in fear for the rest of their lives!”

“I can’t believe the cops haven’t found a connection to BrewCorp. We all know that’s what’s going on.” Liam grimaced. “This has to be stressful for you, too. I bet you feel like you want to split yourself in half between the brewery and its owners.”