"Shit." I stood frozen in front of the wall of pens.

Katy's eyes widened, which seemed impossible, but somehow, she managed the task. "Move it," she said with a dramatic wave of her hand, ushering us out the door.

I grabbed the pens from the bullet holes and shoved them in my pocket, not bothering to return the room pen to the table. One missing pen would be easier to explain away than our presence at the scene of a crime.

Katy was related to the town's only detective and dating a billionaire. She'd have the bail money. If Anderson caught me sniffing around another dead body, he'd lock me up in a heartbeat. Even though I'd been the one to solve Jalinda's murder last month, he still didn't consider me a peer. I needed something drastic for Anderson to see me as worthy and start cutting me in on cases.

Like solving another murder before he did.

Katy held the hotel room door open as Broadrick and I shot out into the hallway. The front door at the bottom of the grand staircase opened, letting in another gust of bitter wind before quickly slamming shut.

Katy snuck a peek behind her and waved at the chief. "Be right there, Hank."

He grumbled something in return. Probably regarding her use of his first name.

Katy's hand flapped in the wind, ushering to the end of the hallway.

Broadrick eyed the dead end and turned back to Katy. "There's no way out."

She glanced at us for less than a second. "Vonnie, you know what to do."

"On it." I grabbed Broadrick's hand, refusing to acknowledge that little spark in my gut that lit up when we touched. I was not going soft just because he'd stayed in town.

I wasn't one of those swoony women who got butterflies in her stomach and shit. Sure, we'd dated, and I still found Broadrick to be one of the hottest-and best-smelling-guys on the planet, but that didn't mean I trusted him. And I couldn't be with someone I didn't trust. My heart and stomach just had to fall in line with my brain. They would eventually.

Katy practically jumped onto the staircase to head off the chief of police. "Do you want a coffee?" she asked at an abnormally loud volume.

Broadrick let me drag him to the window and then he wrapped the end of his polo shirt around his fist. I marveled at the sliver of abs the move exposed and then grabbed his hand before he did something drastic.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

He leaned forward, hitting me with a dose of that cologne I loved on him. "Getting us out of here."

I pushed his hand further away from the window. "By drawing attention to us. Calm down, killer. There's a reason this hallway doesn't have any cameras."

Broadrick tipped his head to the side, and I forced the feeling in my gut to shut her whore mouth. He was not absolutely adorable when I had more information than him-something that rarely happened.

"Which is?"

"It's our hidden spot." No one locked the window so you could get in and out as needed. I yanked it up and shivered against the cold air that hit me in the face.

"You'd work better with a cup of coffee, Hank. Chief," Katy practically yelled at the man. He was old, but not hearing-aid-level bad. These were warning yells. "Be careful. That third step is a doozy!"

"Come on," I said, sliding out the window onto the small ledge of the roof.

Broadrick climbed out beside me, his beefy frame barely fitting through the old-sized window. His feet slipped on the tile and his arm waved in the air, searching for something to hold on it.

I shut the window behind us and scooted to the side to get away from the view of the window. "Didn't they teach you this in the SEALs?"

Broadrick's mouth opened a fraction as if he had something he desperately wanted to say, but then he gave it one quick shake and closed it. "Now, how do we get down from here?"

I jerked my shoulder to the right. "The tree."

He lifted his head up to the dark sky and took a deep breath like he was carrying on a conversation with the big guy upstairs. "The tree. Of course. Why not the tree?"

"It's a thick tree, Broadrick. You'll be fine." Probably.

Our escape tree was a few feet from the bed-and-breakfast. Far enough away they weren't worried about the root system and the old structure, but close enough that we had no problem hitching a ride on one of the long branches.

No one Broadrick's size had ever attempted it-to my knowledge-but he'd be fine.

Most likely.

I climbed out first and gave the branch a little jump to test the weight. "See, fine."

"Don't do that," Broadrick said and reached a hand out for me like he'd catch me if I fell.

I made it to the main trunk of the tree and worked my way down as the branch above me shook from Broadrick's weight. He mumbled his way across the branch, and I tuned him out, focused on my own descent. But I definitely didn't miss his use of profanity.

As I neared the bottom, I stole a glance into the kitchen and gave a quick wave to the night shift cleaning crew as the night manager mopped the tile floor. The chief and Katy were nowhere to be seen from my spot, and I had to believe she'd followed him up to the crime scene.

I jumped the last foot, and my feet hit the ground with a mushy sound. The snow from earlier in the year was melting in patches, even though we definitely had at least one more snow storm in us before spring.

Broadrick jumped from the middle of the tree and landed with a soft thud. His boot sank into the muddy ground, and he stared down at it like an unsavory enemy had attacked him. He jerked his foot free with a squelch and closed his eyes.

"It's just a little mud," I said, trying to sound optimistic. From his expression, you'd think someone died.

Broadrick turned to face me without another word, and we rounded the bed-and-breakfast as a silent front. "Act natural."

"Duh." Like this was my first time sneaking out from the place. I'd named the tree Barky last year. Not my most original name, but I'd slid down him in shorts once and would never forget the experience.

Broadrick grabbed my hand when our feet touched the shoveled sidewalk. I froze, thinking he wanted to hold mine, but he let go once he had my attention. My shoulders slumped with the sudden change-from relief and gloom. Totally.

"I need to check on Not Brent since someone left him alone," I said.

Broadrick's lips thinned. I really had to get my head on straight regarding him. But how? "Isn't his name Nut Bread now?"

"Oh yeah. We're trying different things," I said to cover up forgetting my dog's name. He'd gone through a few of them. First Brent, then Not Brent, and finally Nut Bread because it sounded close, but honestly, he'd always be Not Brent to me. Plus, I needed something shorter. People gave his name weird looks, and I didn't need to draw more attention to myself.

Broadrick tucked a piece of my blonde hair behind my ear, and his green eyes sparkled in the streetlights. He towered over me in height. At least it felt like it right then. It would be a lot easier to remember I didn't like him anymore if he didn't have the cut chin, a perfect amount of stubble, an amazing smell, hair I wanted to run my fingers through, and those damn tattoos on his arms. I couldn't see the tattoos at the moment, but they were there.

"Do you need help moving?" he asked, acting like he didn't want to part ways.

His behavior clawed at my chest like talons wanting to dig their way inside. "No, thanks. I have a plan."

I turned and walked off quickly so he didn't have time to think of another reason. Eventually, I'd give in and let him follow me home. Then nothing good would happen. At the corner of Main Street, his motorcycle engine purred to life behind me and took off down the street in the opposite direction.