Anderson cuffed me.

Cuffed me!

The nerve. Everyone knew you didn't use the cuffs in Pelican Bay unless you were dealing with an out-of-towner. My family had lived in Pelican Bay for at least a hundred years.

Probably.

Definitely long enough that I didn't warrant handcuffs.

I sat quietly as Anderson drove me the few short blocks to the police station, chewing on the side of my lip in worry. Now was not a good time to be arrested. I had a lot on my plate. Dogs to find and murderers to catch. Who had time to sit in a jail cell?

With his hand clutching my elbow, Anderson led me right up the steps and through the front door of the police station like he was showing off the newest piece to his criminal collection. If my parents found out about my trip to jail in cuffs, they would have a heart attack.

I'd have to move.

To another country.

"Hey, Vonnie," Officer Bradley said as we walked past his desk. His smile drooped when he spotted the cuffs.

I nodded, not sure I could respond in words without crying. Too much of my focus was being used not hyperventilating.

I'd hopefully escape into Canada before my arrest made the phone tree and my parents came to collect me. I'd lived in Maine my entire life. Cold weather did not faze me. Canada winters couldn't be much worse.

Rather than stop at the station conference room-where most conversations happened when I had to visit the station-Anderson walked me right into the regular interrogation room.

The regular interrogation room-not good.

Shit.

He kicked out the chair from the other side of the table for me to sit and then scratched the legs of his seat against the tile floor. I winced at the noise and then dropped into the chair, resting my cuffed hands on the table and glaring at them.

My cuffs clinked against the metal table, and I wrinkled my nose at the old coffee smells permeating the walls in the small room.

"Is this where you become the big, scary bad cop?" I asked with false bravado.

Anderson unbuttoned the long tan trench coat, trying too hard to look like a cop from an eighties crime drama. "Only if you don't cooperate."

"You as bad cop won't work on me. Katy showed me a picture of you at kindergarten graduation. Your little cap was so cute," I lied.

Anderson and the interrogation room were freaking me out, especially as a faint odor of pee stuck in my nose. Were they interrogating people so forcefully in here that they peed? That had to be against the Geneva Convention. I clattered the cuffs against the table again, trying to find a better position as they cut into my wrist when I laid my hands down.

He scowled at me from across the desk. Yeah, much cuter as a five-year-old. Nothing like the snarly beast I had to face now.

"I'll arrest my cousin later. This is serious business, Ms. Vines."

Katy, being Anderson's cousin, only worked out in our favor occasionally. I guess when he broke out the last names was not one of those times.

"I know," I said and wiggled my cuffs again. They were just so damn uncomfortable. The metal pushed into my skin, leaving marks and then clattering against the table.

If I somehow managed to get out of here without the phone tree finding out, there'd be no way to hide the marks. I'd have to tell my mother I'd gotten into BDSM. She might have enjoyed reading Fifty Shades, but something warned me she wouldn't feel the same way about her daughter enjoying the festivities of a good cuffing.

Either way, I was screwed.

Anderson slipped out of his coat and left it over the back of his chair. "You're looking at real jail time."

I clanged the cuffs against the table, not able to take my gaze off them as I worked on slowing my breathing. Now wasn't the time to pass out. I needed to keep up with my tough persona, so Anderson might believe I'd done nothing wrong.

We both knew I had, but if I faked it long enough, maybe he'd let me go.

It was wishful thinking, but dreaming worked for me in the past.

The cuffs rattled and Anderson leaned against the table, grabbed my hands, unlocked the cuffs and placed them in the space between us as a reminder.

"Thanks," I said, rubbing at the spot where the cuffs had cut into my skin and left slight pink marks.

"It's not for your benefit."

With my hands free, I leaned back in the chair and took two deep breaths before facing Anderson. "What evidence do you believe I've tampered?"

"You stole a chocolate-covered cherry from an ongoing murder investigation from my desk earlier today."

"That doesn't sound like me. Are you sure?" The toes of my boot tapped against the tile floor, not making a sound.

Anderson closed his eyes for a beat as if he needed a moment not to freak out as well, but only one of us was under arrest, so I didn't see what he had to worry about. "We have cameras, Vonnie."

Shit. Cameras. How did I get caught by one?

"Can I see this alleged tape?"

It's possible Anderson lied because he wanted me to confess. Always ask the cops to see any evidence they said they had against you.

He sighed. "If I take the time to set up the television and bring it in here, you are missing out on a chance at freedom."

I perked up at his words, sitting higher in the chair. "How's that?"

Anderson smirked, and I mentally yelled at myself for being so eager. Now he knew he had me. He leaned against the table, setting his elbows on the edge, and almost whispered his next words. "The department is at an important crossroads right now. We don't want it known that a twenty-two-year-old woman stole a piece of important evidence from us because one of our officers didn't follow the damn evidence procedure."

Hmm. A lot of what he said was highly interesting.

I was still scared shitless and didn't want my mother to find out about my arrest, but now I knew Anderson needed me as much as I needed him.

"So what you're saying is that you need my silence? And why is the department going through an important time?" Everyone knew the chief was corrupt and only into the job for the money. Most people suspected him of taking bribes from Frankie Zanetti, but we normally considered Anderson and the other officers honest. "Did you boys get into trouble?"

Anderson slammed his fist against the table, the sound echoing back immediately in the small room. "Damn it, Vonnie. Just give me the candy."

The tables were flipping, and I fought back a smile. After I got out of here, found Brent, solved a murder, and returned Katy's box, I was definitely looking into this department investigation. Anderson hadn't said they were being investigated, but whatever he referenced had to be big to rattle him.

"Let's pretend I have the candy-hypothetically speaking."

He rolled his eyes and then closed them for another beat, his lips mumbling something. Definitely counting down from ten. "Hypothetically, of course."

"Then, hypothetically, what happens next?"

Anderson released a deep breath and lowered his gaze to meet mine. "You give it back and we'll pretend this never happened."

Hmm. I liked the compromise. Mostly.

"And I don't get to watch the video?" I bet I looked fucking kick-ass stealing that chocolate from my position under the desk. Chuck Norris level shit right there.

"No," he deadpanned.

Definitely not going to give in on that one. Damn it.

"Fine. I hear the camera adds ten pounds, anyway."

Anderson stood, his tall frame towering over me. "The candy, Vonnie?"

I grimaced, hoping he didn't see it, but from the way his eyebrows furrowed, he did. "What if it's not as pristine as you remember it? Does that ruin my diplomatic immunity?"

"No one is giving you immunity of any kind." He took another deep breath and released it between his lips while grabbing his coat from the chair. I opened my mouth to give him more information about how the candy might have slightly melted while in the hot bakery-it wasn't my fault the ovens were always on-but closed it tightly and decided it was best if he found that out when I wasn't with him.

"Where is it?"

Uh-oh. He wasn't going to like my answer.