It was too cold to walk home, so I kept my steps headed in the direction of the parking lot and pretended like finding Broadrick here in my car was exactly what I expected. He looked nothing like Tony, the man I'd left in charge of my dog, but I preferred his face more, anyway.

A hat with the Pelican Bay logo sewn into the front covered Broadrick's dark auburn hair, but his green eyes were full of questions as I opened the car door, pushed NB to the side, and took a seat. The dog fought his way onto my lap and returned to his window artwork.

I sneezed while buckling my seat belt, and Broadrick stayed silent.

Why was he always randomly showing up? We'd dated for years, and he'd never visited Pelican Bay. Then after dumping me, he left the military, took a job here, and followed me around? It made me suspicious. So did finding him selling government weapons to lowlife criminals in the woods. Did I believe his story about being a double agent?

I hadn't decided yet. I hadn't had enough time to sit around and stress spiral about his actions to form my opinion on his story. Hopefully, once I moved into the new place, I'd have enough free time to ponder what made the man tick. And what that meant for me.

"What did you promise the night janitor for your folder of information?" Broadrick asked, as I tried to tuck the folder between the seats of the car.

I shoved it in place and stared out the window as he left the parking lot. "Assistant mortician."

"Does the actual mortician know his employee is giving out state secrets?"

I gaped. "Not all of us work for a company with a hacker who can get access to whatever files he wants."

"Spencer is a handy guy to have around," Broadrick said and then turned the wrong direction on the main highway into Pelican Bay.

I pointed out the window in the correct direction. "You're going the wrong way."

"No, I'm not," he deadpanned.

That didn't sound good. "Then where are we going?"

Broadrick furrowed his brows, creating that little crease in the center. "It's a surprise."

"You know I hate surprises."

"I know." He sped up so I couldn't jump from the moving vehicle.

We argued for another three minutes as Broadrick raced down the road, definitely going over the speed limit, until he slowed in front of the county medical center. The name sounded all state sponsored, but it was really just a collection of doctors who came together to put their services in one big building.

It also housed the walk-in clinic, highlighted by a large lit up sign advertising their speedy service and long hours of availability. Broadrick parked right underneath it, and the lights lit up the hood of my car.

"I knew I couldn't trust you," I said, staring at the sign and the kid with a Band-Aid on his arm.

Looks like I didn't need those free hours to ponder my feelings for Broadrick. He'd blown his chance.

"Just go inside, Vonnie. There's no reason you have to live in misery. Just admit you have a cold."

"I'm not in misery," I said as my nose twitched with a sneeze. Not now, body. Get it together. "Besides, I won't sit in there with a bunch of sick people."

Broadrick sighed. "I made you an appointment. You won't have to wait for anyone."

"You can't make an appointment. It's called a walk-in clinic." An appointment defeated the entire purpose of walk-in.

"It's one of those wonders of technology, Von."

I spun in my seat to face him. "B, sick people are in there." What if one of them had the plague?

He nodded. "Yes, that's why you belong there. With the sick people."

My mouth fell open. Rude.

"If you go inside and listen to the doctor, I will get you Chinese for dinner."

My eyes narrowed. Did I trust him? With my heart? No. With food. Possibly. "The good place?"

"Yes, we'll get Chens."

"With extra crab rangoons?"

He sighed again, deeper and with more throat this time. "Sure."

"Fine." I passed him NB and got out of the car without looking back toward him. I'd been tricked, but I'd deal with it for Chens. They'd probably tell me it was allergies anyway.

Twenty-five minutes later, I'd breathed in a billion germs but also had a prescription for "an immunity booster."

"Well," Broadrick asked as I buckled my seatbelt back in Rachel.

"He basically gave me a prescription for vitamin C. He said I'll get over it on my own, so I'm not taking it."

"You are so stubborn," he said but turned back onto the main road and finally headed toward Pelican Bay. "When we get you home, go inside and go to bed. I'll take care of the animals."

I argued with him until we drove past the wooden pelican welcoming us into downtown and then gave up. If he really wanted to scoop cat poop and walk a dog obsessed with peeing on every single bush in a five-mile radius, fine.

I fell asleep that evening listening to the earth-shattering cries of a cat set on destruction and Broadrick's whispered terror as he attempted to talk him off the ledge of murdering the household.

**

Sadly, even after the cat screams died down, my sleep was restless. The constant need to blow my nose made even an hour of undisturbed peace hard.

A phone beeped somewhere, and I struggled to open my eyes. "B, is that yours?"

I waited for him to answer the device so I could get back to sleep. He didn't.

"Seriously, dude?" I didn't have the energy to roll over, and I still hadn't gotten my eyes open, but I swung my arm around and hit the side of the bed he slept on. I didn't find the big beefy SEAL like I expected.

Ugh.

The beeping continued, and I finally pried my eyes open enough for the sunlight streaming in through the blinds to hit my pupils. Broadrick wasn't in the bed, but NB slept at my feet and Spencer the murder kitten lay on top of my head.

I answered with a scratchy voice from disuse.

"Are you sleeping on the job?" the superior sounding voice of my mentor Mick Darcy cut through the phone.

"No." I pried the phone from my ear to check the time. Ugh. Maybe.

It was after noon. How had I slept so long, but it felt like minutes?

I paid Mick a monthly fee to work as my mentor and help me achieve the hours I needed to apply for a full PI license in Maine. He used my money to buy more fedora hats and a collection of pens he liked to click whenever he had to talk for more than two minutes. He also had a habit of calling at inopportune times.

My eyes were runny from the heavy sunlight in the room, and I sniffled before finding a box of Kleenex next to the bed and blowing my nose as Mick continued talking.

"You sick?" Mick asked.

"No." Why was everyone asking me about being freaking sick?

Mick didn't answer my unspoken question. "You haven't updated me in over a week, and there's been a murder in your jurisdiction."

How did he hear these things? Especially when I hadn't called and updated him on purpose? Also, who put NB outside for his morning potty break? He hadn't moved from my feet, which meant he'd already been out and had breakfast. Otherwise, he'd be in my face pretending he was two minutes from death.

"I'm aware of the murder and already on the case."

He snorted, and I swore I saw Mick nod and tip his ridiculous hat. The man thought he was Dick Tracy. I wasn't even sure his real name was Mick. "Good, good."

I rolled over in bed and my hand landed on the pillow Broadrick used when I let him sleep over. My fingers hit a crinkly piece of paper rather than a head.

"Remember to focus on the money cases, but solve this murder. It will make us look good. Clout means more cash."

Us?

Why was it always me doing the grunt work but us when clout was involved? Mick never came to Pelican Bay to give me on-the-job training, but he always cashed my check on time. Oh well, I didn't need him. Well, except for my hours. Once I had those, I'd be my own PI, and Mick wouldn't matter. I'd do whatever I wanted...that didn't lead to jail time.

"Sorry I didn't call. I've been working on the clues."

"Yeah, yeah, just make sure you keep me in on the pieces. I don't enjoy being left out of the loop."

I grabbed the paper from B and rolled over. Time to kiss butt. "Of course not. I will definitely let you know my progress by the end of the week."

He grunted. "It better be a wrap-up after you've solved it."

My feet shuffled, and I accidentally kicked NB. He lifted his head in disgust and then dropped it again. "Definitely."

Move houses, watch the murder cat, and solve a murder. All before the week ended. No problem.

We hung up, and I unfolded the note from Broadrick's pillow. Er, my guest pillow, sometimes used by Broadrick.

I read the single line and then refolded the paper and tossed it back on the pillow.

Stay in bed and rest today.

-B