"Did you hear me?" Ridge growled as he leaned over my desk, staring at me. "Cut your shit out."

His palms pressed against the scorch mark left from my stun gun experiment, but the room still had the old coffee smell rather than singed wood.

Ridge had the skills to intimidate pretty much the entire town, and that included me. My boots might have literally been quaking, but I leaned back in my chair, hoping I came off looking unaffected.

It worked on Anderson.

"I don't have the foggiest idea what you mean."

He snarled and pushed back away from my desk. I shouldn't have kicked out Tony. It would be nice to have a big bounty hunter in my corner although I couldn't guarantee he'd stand behind me. I'd barely met the man.

Ridge widened his eyes and paced a quick circle in the small open space in the office. "Stealing evidence?" he asked, but the way he worded it made me believe it wasn't a question at all. "What were you thinking?"

I kicked a foot up on top of the desk surface, almost planting it on top of my closed laptop, but moved it to the side just in time. "Again, I do not know what you're talking about." I threw my hands out to the side encompassing the room. "I have no evidence, and I'm sure Anderson doesn't have a report on any missing evidence."

His glare strengthened. If I wasn't playing unafraid so hard, I'd be crying. No shame. Ridge Jefferson could be a scary dude when he wanted. How did he even hear about the evidence snafu?

And while Ridge scared me, he also royally pissed me off. What nerve? Only a man charged into my office and told me to quit my livelihood. He wasn't my father. I'd only lived on Earth for twenty-two years, but I was already so freaking tired of men telling me what to do. Did he really think I'd listen?

Why couldn't men be supportive? Why not tell me to buy the big ass extension plug like my uncle? Uncle Richard had to be the last decent guy on the planet. At least in Maine. He never told my aunt what to do.

"Vonnie, you don't have proper training for this." Ridge nodded at me with each word as if one sentence of semi logic should talk me out of my dreams.

See! More unsupportiveness.

"I have a degree and I'd have the best training in the state-no, the country-if the first person I asked to be my mentor hadn't turned me down." We both knew who I meant.

Him.

I asked Ridge to act as my mentor while I worked to get my required hours before I could officially apply for my private investigator's license, but he said no. He didn't have time. Actually, his exact words were, "I don't have time to make sure you don't die in the field."

What an ego.

Like none of his men ever got hurt on the job or in trouble. News flash, they did.

It was such male bullshit. If they ended up with a scar, they were more badass than before, but if-heaven forbid-something happened to me, the world might end. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to get hurt. I didn't plan to get hurt, but the sexist shit made me want to scream.

Ridge stood perfectly still during all my inner ranting. He didn't speak again until my gaze reached his. "Does Mick know about your missing dog case?"

I dropped my foot from the top of my desk, hitting Katy's box. Shit, that hurt my heel even in my thick winter boots. "He knows about Brent."

We needed to stop referring to him as a missing dog and start calling him what he was-a missing Brent. A minor distinction, but an important one.

Ridge ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. I'd seen the signs of distress on him before, but it normally came from something his wife, Tabitha, or one of her friends said. "Vonnie, you don't have a gun."

Ah ha! Got him. "I have a stun gun and I bet it would hurt your ass."

I whipped the stun gun from my pocket and slid it on the top of my desk toward him, hoping it was threatening. The corner of Ridge's lip tipped up when he spotted the pink color. More of that blatant sexism.

Men.

He sighed and as his mouth opened to speak again with more nonsense bullshit, but his phone beeped three times and he hurried to slide it from his back pocket. A second passed as he read the message and scowled at the screen.

I really needed to work on my scowl if I wanted to get somewhere in this field. Ridge's face pinched together and his eyes narrowed as if he contemplated throwing the phone out in the snow. I studied him, hoping to pull off a similar expression the next time I needed to intimidate an inanimate object.

He turned toward the door, stopped, and twisted back to point his glare in my direction. "Stick to lost dogs and stay away from the evidence room. Mick will not bail you out if you get in trouble. This isn't a game."

Without waiting for my response, he charged out of my office and let the door slam behind him. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating form but not before the door closed all the way. No need to take chances.

I waited another minute to make sure Ridge didn't plan to charge back in and give me more bullshit about guns and missing Brents. When he didn't return, I adjusted my seat in my chair with my legs against Katy's box and lifted a stack of cards from the pile Jimmy gave me to search.

If Jimmy didn't kill Jalinda, but the candies had a mysterious source of coconut, the person who sent them had to know she was allergic and might die from eating one. And if the candies came from her friend in Las Vegas, why the typed-out address label? Nothing in the case made sense.

Pieces were missing. I'd find them and then jab them into the puzzle where they belonged.

The first three letters I pulled from the box were regular Christmas cards one family sends another. The sentiments inside the normal sayings.

"Hope you have a wonderful new year."

"Merry Christmas from our family to yours."

"Happy holidays and an even better new year."

These people had to all be using the same inspirational holiday saying website. They couldn't get more generic. Nothing filled with malice that said, "I'm coming to kill you," or, "Enjoy the poisoned chocolate." Why didn't they make it easy for me just once?

The old coffee smell turned from a charged bean scent to one that had my stomach rumbling. I'd snatched my breakfast on the way out the door and the two pieces of bacon weren't enough to sustain me for the work I had ahead.

I wanted caffeine to keep me going. A big delicious cup of brew. I needed to buy an electric kettle for the office if I planned to spend time here. Especially since it seemed like I'd have to use the place during the morning hours if I wanted to miss the death metal practice.

"You want an iced coffee?" I asked Samantha, but she didn't respond.

Probably because she was a box. Iced coffee would only moisten her sides. I'd have to drink it for her. Although, that did not sound like a horrible idea. Two iced coffees.

But if I left the office to grab a drink from the bakery, I'd have to lug Samantha with me there, so I didn't leave her alone again. How in the hell did I carry two drinks and a huge ass box with me at the same time? I'd be a horror scene.

Iced coffee all over the sidewalk.

No.

Focus. Vonnie.

Caffeine had to wait. I had a case to solve.

I pried my eyes from the wall where I pictured a giant iced coffee cup dancing on the wall. The next card was interesting enough to keep my attention.

Someone had opened it, but shoved the card back into the envelope. Rather than address the holiday greeting to the happy couple, they addressed the envelope only to Jimmy.

Interesting.

Careful not to rip the envelope, I pulled out the card and my eyes grew wide at the long message written in perfect handwriting on the left side. This wasn't a few platitudes about a pleasant holiday or new year. This card held a heartfelt message from one lover to another.

And that lover wasn't Jalinda.