I latched on to the door handle, ready to rip it open and run for it. I hadn't walked into the home thinking of Arthur as an actual murder suspect, but no way could I ignore two screams.

One, sure, but not two.

Arthur let out a steady stream of swear words as he marched his way out of the room. I turned the knob half a rotation, wanting to give myself an easy out if I needed to make a run for it. If I held out a few more seconds, I might get enough incriminating evidence to prove Arthur had a basement full of women he was torturing.

Feet pounded on the floor as Arthur rounded the hallway, returning to the kitchen. I twisted the handle another inch and held the door ajar, letting a wall of cold air into the room from the open sliver.

He chucked a remote on the kitchen counter and leaned against the cabinet. "Sorry, I was watching a Hitchcock marathon."

"Oh, right?" I closed the door, cutting off the cold air stream. Seemed a logical viewing pleasure for a Wednesday morning. "How do you know Jimmy and Jalinda?"

His right eyebrow lowered, and his nose crinkled. "I never met Jalinda. Jimmy didn't want her to know about the group."

"Group?"

"Monday night. Improv night."

I dropped the door handle and stepped into the room. The cold from the window pane was freezing my shoulder through my coat. "You run an improv group?" I thought Jimmy made that shit up as the world's worst alibi.

He raised a shoulder. "Yeah, every Monday night. The group of us get together and practice sketches. We aren't ready to go public yet, and now we'll have to find a member to replace Jimmy before we consider paid gigs."

"Why?" I patted the pockets of my coat, looking for my notebook to take notes. So far, his story checked out, but I wanted to make sure I added anything he might drop on me.

Arthur spun the remote on the counter. It circled, edging closer to the side. "Jimmy only joined the group for Jalinda. Now that she's dead, I don't think he'll have a reason to come."

"He joined for Jalinda?"

Arthur snorted and spun the remote again, letting it slip right to the edge. It was totally going to fall. "Yeah, he was horrible in the beginning, but after a few months, he showed real improvement. He only joined because he wanted to learn how to be funny on the spot. Puns, comebacks, that sort of thing."

"You can learn that in improv?"

The remote tip hit the edge of the counter, slowly going over the side, and clattered to the floor. The back of the remote loosened and one battery dislodged, ending up on the opposite side of the kitchen. Arthur let out a curse and bent over to retrieve the pieces.

"You can if I'm your teacher," he said, cramming the battery into the proper hole and slamming the cover on tightly. "He wanted to surprise her for Valentine's Day."

What a weird present to give someone. The ability to make a pun? More than likely, she just wanted chocolates. Maybe dinner out. Not to die.

"Did you notice anything different about him on Monday night?" I asked, so far not adding anything to my mini notepad.

Arthur set the remote on the counter and spun it again. My eyes widened. Didn't he learn his lesson the first time?

"Not really. He was irritated because his mother wanted to come for dinner later this week. They hadn't cut the cord yet, if you know what I mean?"

"Hmm." Yes.

I hung around a few more minutes asking questions and hoping something would break through, but nothing Arthur shared went against what Jimmy told me. His story definitely checked out.

Which I guessed, was good for him. Not so much for me or my investigation into Jalinda's killer. So far, I couldn't prove Jimmy killed her, but something about his stories lined up too perfectly. Rehearsed. He was too perfect of a husband.

I'd spent less than an hour with Arthur and Mrs. Coogs, but my car was already freezing by the time I opened the driver's side door and drove to the police station.

The police station and fire house were in the same building, probably to save space. Also, we didn't have many officers or firefighters. If you wanted an officer after seven, you had to call the county. The cops totaled less than five and most of them were part time. Six cops if you counted Anderson the only detective. Which said something that a town as small as Pelican Bay needed a detective. Not that anyone would admit the town had a crime problem. It would ruin the small-town tourist ascetic they worked so hard to preserve and sell to potential travelers online.

The important part of visiting the police station-when you weren't under arrest-was to make sure you looked fierce. I checked my nonexistent makeup in the car's review mirror and pinched my cheeks. My best friend, Katy's grandma, said it worked.

Speaking of best friends. To buy myself a few more seconds in the warming vehicle before I ventured into the cold again, I shot her a quick text. I hadn't updated her in days.

VONNIE: Broadrick is in town.

Her response came almost immediately.

KATY: Your Broadrick? Big hunky marine?

VONNIE: SEAL

She could never get the military terms right. Katy said it didn't matter as long as they were in camo. She had a point.

KATY: I'm walking into the bed-and-breakfast. I want the full details later, lady.

I laughed and sent another text promising to deliver. When Katy asked for details, she meant the kissing kind and she'd be disappointed to learn that wasn't happening. Definitely not. I wouldn't get the chance to chat until later in the week, but if I hadn't told her about Broadrick and she found out later, I'd have hell to pay.

With her semi-properly updated, I slipped the phone into my coat pocket and left the warmth of my vehicle to find a certain one-and-only detective in Pelican Bay. Anderson.

I needed a cause of death on Jalinda Jones, and since the newspaper didn't report it in their article, I went to the source. First, I needed to figure out a way to get him to tell me. Something about police procedures and confidentiality always kept him from spilling the good stuff, but I had faith this time might be different.

The marble steps to the station were slippery, and I used the railing to make sure I didn't fall on my ass. My fingers were freezing by the time I pushed open the station's main door.

"Vonnie," Officer Bradley said before I'd even fully gotten into the building. "He's busy."

"Who?" I asked, standing next to the desk stationed right at the front of the waiting section in the room. There weren't many walls to keep me from walking right past him, but I tried to maintain a certain decorum at the station. Professionalism.

"Anyone you're here to see is too busy." He tapped his pen against the desk.

"Dude, don't hate," I said, taking one of the three chairs in the small waiting space.

See, look at me being all respectful.

Officer Bradley huffed. "Well then, who are you here to bother?"

"Anderson." Like I would come to see anybody else. I scanned the room behind Officer Bradley, looking for the tall detective. He should have been easy to spot.

"Busy," Bradley responded quickly and frankly with too much smugness. His brown hair fell over his eye and he swiped it away. Shouldn't cops have the high and tight cut?

I rubbed my ass against the seat cushion. "I'll wait." The giant had to come out of hiding eventually.

**

Turns out the giant can hold his pee for a while because I kept my eye on his desk and the bathrooms, but after thirty minutes, he hadn't made a move toward either location.

Damn him.

It had to be something good keeping him behind a closed door in the small precinct. Now I wanted to know Jalinda's cause of death and whatever had Anderson in a tizzy.

I unzipped my coat, getting overheated sitting under the vent-the reason I picked the chair-and loaded a game of sudoku on my phone after checking on the Facebook phone tree group.

The phone tree had been a staple in Pelican Bay since they created land line phones. Every evening, the women took part in their version of the telephone game, making sure the local gossip stretched to each end of town. Recently, a few new recruits in the Women's Auxiliary moved the program to the twenty-first century by giving up-to-the-minute updates in the super-secret Facebook group. I was not a member of the Woman's Auxiliary, but as an honorary Bakery Girl and Katy Kadish's apprentice in misdeeds, they'd given me access.

No one had posted any new gossip about Jalinda's murder. The last post came from Pearl about how she heard Jimmy's mother wanted the funeral to be invite only. As expected, Pearl found the idea to be most grievous. She'd never been a fan of Jimmy's mother. Said she was stuck up. I thought it stemmed from her never wanting to become a member of the Auxiliary.

I placed a five in the middle box of my sudoku game and immediately re-zipped my coat as someone wrenched open the station's doors, letting in an explosion of freezing air.

My gaze stayed downcast on my phone so I saw his combat-ready military grade boots first. I'd seen boots like that before. Often. Not only were they Broadrick's number one companion, but most of the former SEALs who made their home in Pelican Bay had a collection.