I rejected the call before it gave another violent surge and burst the vein in Tony's forehead. Its pulsing increased when I bit my lip and shook my head, holding the quiet phone between us.

I couldn't help it if someone called me.

"It's nothing," Charlie said, hovering by the open door and peeking back at the caskets in the small room. He sure looked like he knew they weren't empty, as he promised earlier.

My body shuttered. Yuck. Dead bodies.

It was one thing to see them lying on the ground post murder, but completely different to see them all stretched out and made up in a coffin. No, thank you.

Funerals were not my thing.

"I think you can get off me now," Tony whispered in my ear after the door clinked closed.

I twisted my head around, putting us nose to nose. "What? You don't like me sitting on you?" My words weren't supposed to be flirty, but somehow, they came out sounding that way.

Tony furrowed his brow. "How old are you?"

Really? Ass. Like age mattered. I rolled my eyes. "Too young for you, old man."

He had to be early thirties at the oldest but was probably more mid to late twenties. If he planned to bring age into this, then so did I. Besides, I wasn't interested in another big ass burly man. I already had one annoying me.

I scooted off Tony's lap and crawled out from our hiding spot behind the coffin. Getting back there in a hurry had happened much easier than getting out. Tony hesitated at the door, opening it only an inch as he peeked outside and surveyed the crowd.

"Okay, it's clear," he said when he turned back. "If anyone asks, we were looking for a private space to get better acquainted."

I crinkled my nose so far it probably looked like I'd been sucking on a lemon. "No, I'm not telling people I got frisky with an old dude."

His mouth dropped open in question, but my only answer came as a hand on my hip. See? Bringing age into an argument was a shit thing to do.

"So it's the age thing you'd have a problem with and not the dead bodies."

Oh. I peeked behind me at the rows of coffins. "Those too."

Tony opened the door just enough to push his body out of it and then waited for me.

We both stopped on the other side, trying to blend back into the now larger group of people waiting for the funeral.

"Age doesn't really matter to me," I said and crossed my arms to lean against the wall, mimicking Broadrick's earlier position. My ex used it as the reason he broke things off between us, but after eighteen age was just a number. A person's heart meant more than their birthday.

Broadrick, however, was absent. I did a sweep of the room and didn't find his tall ass anywhere. Where had he gone?

Tony shook his head again. "Me either."

I jerked my head once as a nod of acceptance. Glad we cleared that up. It would be pretty shitty of me to hold Tony's old age against him and then get upset when Broadrick tried to do the same to me.

Damn it.

Sometimes being a reasonable adult sucked.

"I got shit to do," Tony said, checking his watch. "You planning to stay for this thing?"

"No."

Tony pushed off from the wall and I followed suit, still scanning the crowd for Broadrick. I couldn't stick around and risk running into Mrs. Croogs. We passed through a cloud of flowery perfume and I held my breath until we stepped outside into the chilly but smell-free air.

We crested the front step and my phone rang again. This time I answered.

My boss, Anessa's frantic voice, spilled out before I said hello. "I'm so glad you finally answered. It's crazy busy this morning. Tabitha had a minor emergency and can't make her shift yet. Can you come in until she gets here?"

A garish sound blared in the call's background. It sounded suspiciously like a smoke alarm.

An extra shift meant extra money, and even though I had a missing Brent, a dead Jalinda, and an annoying Broadrick issue to handle, I couldn't pass up the cash.

"Sure. When?"

Anessa sighed. "Ten minutes ago?"

"Okay, I'll be as quick as possible," I promised before hanging up and finding Tony's gaze. "I gotta go."

Tony smirked. "I figured."

I wanted to ask Tony about his "shit to do" today and if he needed help on his skipper, but I didn't have time. Something more important had to be handled first. I had to run home and grab Katy's box from my closet. I couldn't get caught without it again.

Tony turned, getting ready to walk away. "See you around, Tabby."

"Wait," I called, stopping his movements."

"Yeah," he said, with a bite of annoyance.

Hmm. How did I make him remember? "I said my name is Vonnie."

His eyes narrowed. "You were serious? Is that even a real name?"

Not cool.

"Yes, it's a real name. The day you saw me at the bakery, I had on Tabitha's apron because all mine were dirty. Also, the real Tabitha would kick your ass for calling her Tabby."

Tony chuckled and gave me a slow eye blink, like he found me to be the predator. Or he needed a second longer to collect his thoughts. Probably the predator thing, though. If I had to guess.

"This town is so weird," he said and then finished his turn and headed in the opposite direction.

"You have no idea," I returned, but the wind stole my words.

**

I checked for Broadrick while securing Katy's box and making my way to the bakery, but he was nowhere to be found. It meant I couldn't interrogate him about why he was at Jalinda's funeral.

The day only continued to go downhill.

"Shit," I sputtered, frantically wiping the hot coffee from my apron with my hand. I only burned my pinky finger, but the heat still seeped through the fabric of the apron and my shirt.

My gaze dropped to the box I'd tripped over. "Double shit."

A thin layer of hot coffee puddled on top of Katy's box. Each second I hesitated, more of it soaked into the cardboard. The hot coffee burning my chest forgotten, I grabbed the closest rag and rubbed it over the coffee spill.

The brown box now had a darker spot in the shape of a classic blood splatter pattern. Great.

How the hell did I plan to hide that from Katy? Odds were super slim she'd believe me if I told her she brought it to me soggy and resembling a murder scene.

"Hey, are you going to refill my coffee now that you spilled half of it?" the customer on the other side of the counter asked while I debated my options.

I sucked in a large breath and passed over the cup.

They eyed my hand and the cup. "You lost half of it on the floor."

No, I lost half of it on a super important box and my chest. I wanted to scream, but kept my mouth shut. "Give me a second."

"I've already been here a second," the asshole dressed in too thin a coat and thick mittens, which looked like they belonged to a child moaned. Definitely a tourist. Dude was lucky he wasn't a local.

No local would be dumb enough to start shit at the bakery.

I dabbed one last time on the box and then pushed it back with my foot and refilled the to-go cup again. "Here you go."

The dude threw four dollars on the counter. "Keep the change. I guess."

He turned, and I lost my shit. That's a fifty-cent tip. I almost burned my tits off for a fifty-cent tip?

"Hey, I was protecting the merchandise!" I yelled after his asshole form, but he'd already pushed through the bakery door.

What jackass came to northern Maine in January?

"I can come back another time," the next person in line said.

I didn't know her name, but I recognized her as a regular customer. She wasn't a local-I knew all their faces-but she wasn't a tourist either. That meant one thing. "You here from Clearwater?"

Her eyes bulged. "Yes," she whispered, leaning across the counter, "but don't tell anyone."

I laughed and prepared her favorite order without asking. A hot chocolate with whip cream. The unspoken rivalry between the two towns was still in full effect. But damn straight they drove here to get a hot chocolate. We had the best hot drinks and desserts in the state. I'd even perfected the iced coffee recipe through many trials and errors.

I turned around, pushing on the lid to her drink. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks." She slid her credit card into the machine and then left a fiver in the tip jar.

Clearwater chick stepped out of line, and I sighed at the remaining people to get through. The line snaked through the bakery, and three people were even waiting outside. It would never end, and after Jalinda's funeral finished, we'd have another rush.

Half the time the bakery was dead with only a few locals sharing gossip and the other half we had to raise the heat because the door never closed.

The metal swinging doors that separated the front of the bakery from the kitchens swung open and Anessa backed through them carrying a large baking sheet of fresh-baked cookies.

"Careful," I called a second too late.

The back of Anessa's foot hit the side of Katy's box-I hadn't moved it far enough from the middle of the floor-and her body tilted to one side.

I stepped behind her and braced her back with my hand, using the other one to grab on to her tray.

Anessa swallowed her scream, letting it out in a large breath. "Thanks, Vonnie. That was almost horrific."

"I know." I took the tray fully from her and laid it on the counter. "Who in the hell left a box there?"

I pushed the box the rest of the way under the counter, knocking over the small trash can we kept in the space to throw away unwanted receipts.

Anessa glanced at the box as she unloaded the cookies on the tray behind the counter. "What's with the box?"

"Don't touch it!" I stepped in front of Samantha with my arms out.

The bakery door opened with a flourish, and Tabitha raced in, murmuring apologies for being late.

Anessa watched her and then brought her attention back to Samantha with me standing in front of her, trying to block the view. She hesitated, thought for a second, and then nodded. "Okay. It's probably best if I don't know."

"Exactly." Her seeing it my way made things easier. On all of us.

Tabitha wrapped the ties of her apron around her middle and then jumped into the fray. "I'll take orders and you make them?" she asked.

I nodded without thinking. I'd already burned myself four times in the three hours I'd been working alone, but anything was better than dealing with needy people.

We worked together like a well-oiled machine for a while and the crowd dwindled until only a few people loitered around, sipping their beverages before going back out into the cold.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked Tabitha as I pushed down the top on a coffee with two creamers.

Tabitha glanced back at me while counting out the change. "Sure."

"What if a guy says he quit the military for you?" I asked and passed over the drink to the person behind the counter. They slipped a buck in the half-full tip jar.