The office was dark since I only had one lightbulb for the entire place. The building was too old for overhead lighting and the room only had one plug. Last month I'd bought an outlet extender but still only had room for a few items. My phone, computer, one lamp, and an empty spot for emergencies. I'd have to get a bigger one if I wanted to illuminate more than the small square of space where I sat.

Broadrick passed by the small two-seater couch I had in the office to the filing cabinet, where on top sat a brand new, never-before-seen small coffee pot. "Hot water and..." He opened the empty top drawer of the filing cabinet. One day I'd fill it with cases. "A box of hot chocolate packets."

"Really?" I couldn't help the grin as I calmly walked over. Broadrick took the expensive thermos he'd bought me last month-they were thirty dollars and worth every penny-and poured steaming water into it.

He held the basket, a cute wicker-looking thing, to me. I picked out a package of hot chocolate, letting him tear the top off and mix it together with a small black straw like I'd tried to use in the murder room at the bed-and-breakfast. Hopefully, these weren't from a crime scene.

Since he had morals, probably not.

He handed me the cup, and I kept the top off to let it cool, otherwise it'd be hours before I could get a sip past my tongue without burning it. Another lesson learned from experience.

Why was he being so nice?

"You feeling okay?" he asked when I stared at him rather than my mug of warm chocolate. "You look pale."

"I live in Maine. I'm always a little pale." Way to lose those nice points I'd given him.

He took a seat on the couch while I stole my desk chair back from him, and NB laid at my feet in his favorite spot. "Paler than normal. And your eyes are red. Have you been crying?"

"What? No." I almost opened my mouth to tell him about how I'd kicked ass this afternoon, but then he'd ask too many question and ultimately want me to explain the plumber costume. Then he'd definitely somehow use that to lead into the breaking and entering part of the day. We didn't need to talk about that now or ever.

I ran my finger under my left eye. Did it feel puffy? "I'm fine. Maybe a little cold."

It was February in Maine. You had to expect a chill occasionally.

I repositioned my chair in front of my desk and noticed it put me right under the small dark spot on my ceiling. Once I wasn't solving a murder, I had to figure out what caused that. So I didn't forget, I tore off a sticky note and made a quick case list.

1. B&B murder

2. Police investigation

3. Ceiling spot

I sneezed and dropped the pen to cover it.

Broadrick stared at me. He did that often, but this time it wasn't like he wanted to fish some answer out of my brain or push me against the fridge and have wild and crazy sex.

I didn't like this new look.

"What?" I asked when he said nothing but tapped his thick military-style boot against the floor.

He stood, and NB jumped up as well. I really didn't like how much my dog seemed to like him. I rescued the dog, not Broadrick. "Let's go home."

"I'm not done working yet." I had tons of work. Didn't he see the list I just made?

He turned out the light and cast the entire office into darkness. "Come on. I'll drive. You look beat."

The man had a hearty supply of insults available, but now that he'd said it, I seemed a little tired. My throat had a scratch to it, and my head felt heavier since that morning. It took more energy than normal to keep it up.

"Fine, but stay out of my trunk." If I didn't warn him he might get nosy.

"Sure, Vonnie. That's not suspicious in the slightest." Broadrick locked my office door and grabbed NB so he wouldn't get his snowy wet paws on the car seats. I appreciated the thought. "Is it a dead body?"

"No," I sputtered. Like I'd drive around with a dead body in the trunk and stop at the office for hot chocolate.

He eyed me up as he carried NB to the Camaro. "An alive body?"

"It's not a body, Broadrick." Great, now I'd admitted it was something.

"Okay," he said and held open the passenger door for me before depositing NB on my lap when I had my seat.

"Really? No more questions?" He lacked a lot of imagination if he thought those were the only two options.

Broadrick took the driver's seat and we were soon turning onto Main Street. "I'm picking my battles."

Hmmm. Smart.

I rested my head against the window and let NB lick the glass next to my face. Seconds later-but it had to have been at least a few minutes-Broadrick pulled into the parking lot of my basement apartment and turned off Rachel. "Come on. To bed with you."

"Fine, but only a quick nap," I said, following him inside. I still had a murder to solve.

The door to my apartment was across from the washer and dryers in the converted home, but thankfully Mrs. Mets, my rent-hungry landlord, wasn't anywhere to be seen. The basement was cooler than normal but had the same fabric softener smell.

Broadrick walked me right into my bedroom and held the covers up for me. He was being way too nice.

I sneezed once and sniffled, getting under the covers without a complaint but definitely with a second sneeze. "Seriously, I'll just like an hour nap."

"Uh-huh," he said, obviously lying. "I'll take Nut Bread out for his nighttime walk. You rest."

"We're calling him NB now." I snuggled into my pillow, getting my hand caught in the material.

Broadrick tucked the covers around my shoulder like he wanted to mummify me. "We are?"

"Yeah, he said he likes it more."

Broadrick chuckled. "Okay, Von."

**

A buzzing stirred me from sleep, but my head weighed too much to lift. I groaned and rolled over, searching the floor for my phone.

What time was it?

How long had I slept?

Why did my nose feel like someone shoved a Kleenex up it?

Oh, right.

I ripped the tissue from my nose, something I'd done to stop it from running during my nap, and found my phone plugged in on the floor. My nose instantly began running again. I blew it quickly into the tissue, but it did no good.

The time on my phone read 6 a.m. next to Katy's name. It was too early in the morning, but I'd still slept for almost twelve hours. Is that why I felt so heavy and still tired? Plus, my back hurt.

"What's up, Katy?" I asked.

My throat was scratchy, and the words hurt, but I pushed through them. Katy wouldn't be awake at this time of morning unless it was urgent.

"Are you alone?"

I searched the dark room and only found NB sleeping at my feet. Broadrick must have gone back to his place. "Yeah."

"I have something you'll want to see."