Broadrick's phone beeped three more times, and he rescued it from his back pocket. I stepped away while he read it. His frown increased as his gaze scanned the device. It created the cutest little crease between his eyes.

"Don't worry. I know what that means." Time for him to go.

Once five of Ridge's men were in the bakery, and all their phones beeped at the same time. Three solid beeps of warning. They were out of there so fast we could have won fifty thousand for a funniest video, except Ridge wouldn't turn over the camera footage.

What was the point of having cameras everywhere if you didn't profit from them?

Broadrick's gaze finally lifted from the phone and met mine. It was too dark in my office to see the green in his eyes, but I imagined they were saying a lot of things. "Sorry, babe."

I'd just told him I wouldn't freak out over him leaving if he didn't do it to me, so I couldn't throw a fit and demand he stay. "Where to?"

Who was going to feed me dinner? Or help me walk NB?

What if he was gone for a month?

"Portland," Broadrick said, after checking his phone again. "Should only be gone until tomorrow. Ridge wants to check the night visions, but we'll head back in the morning."

I almost got ready to let him leave, but a thought stopped me from giving him his goodbye kiss. "I thought you couldn't work for Ridge while still in the military?"

Broadrick smiled. "I can't, but since I'm on extended leave and have enough free time, I'm shadowing his team until I can officially join."

It sounded fishy, but I didn't have enough time to add another case to my list. I also needed to find the original list and check off a few things first.

"Don't you have to report to the base or something?" I asked. They just let him out of the military to roam around the country? Didn't they keep better track of their killing machines?

"The entire team is on leave until further notice."

They had an entire team of highly trained SEALs running loose in America?

Broadrick smiled as if he knew exactly what conclusions my brain jumped to. "We don't have to report back unless they need us for something urgent."

I took "something urgent" to mean something not good.

"My commanding officer called it much-needed decompress time for the team. Some of those fuckers are staying in."

I wrapped my arms around his middle and squeezed. The unexpected movement caught him off guard, and his body rocked back and then forward.

"Definitely back tomorrow?" I asked, letting a little of my vulnerability show through.

He nodded. His chin hit the top of my head. "If it goes long, I'll call and let you know."

That's the best I could ask for.

I squeezed him tighter, just not ready to let go. Maybe I hadn't fought off the cold completely, and it was making me an emotional mess.

"Will you be okay?"

I rolled my eyes, but he couldn't see. So cute and annoying. I'd be fine. This small freak-out was only momentary. Once he got on his way, I'd be back to kicking ass again.

"I'll manage. Somehow." I tried to spread the sarcasm thickly but wasn't sure it didn't come out sounding like a poor damsel in distress.

Broadrick kissed the top of my head. "I know you can make it on your own. I meant with the break-in."

Why'd he have to mention that? I sucked in a breath that I hoped he didn't notice. I didn't enjoy calling the rock incident a break in. It was an accidental rock issue. "Yeah, I've got this."

"Remember that Detective Anderson or Ridge are only a call away."

I scoffed. Like I'd call them. "I'm just going to work on the case. No trouble on my part."

Broadrick gave me another kiss on the temple and stepped away, meeting my gaze. "Sometimes the best suspects are the people we'd never suspect."

What? Was he trying to tell me a haiku or something? It didn't make any sense.

Why wouldn't I suspect my suspect? And in my head, everyone was a suspect because I suspected everyone of everything. All the time.

Now I'd confused myself.

I gave my head a shake and leaned against my desk.

Wait?

Did he mean Trish?

I definitely didn't expect Trish to shoot a criminal, but should I? Waitresses dealt with assholes all day. Maybe Ace Ross didn't pay his dinner tab, and she collected payment another way.

"Stay out of trouble," he said with one last kiss against my temple.

"You, too," I yelled as he walked out of the office. I waited until the front door closed and then took the seat at my desk.

I managed about seven full minutes of work before the main door opened and slammed shut.

"You're such an asshole, Sebastian," someone said in a deep voice.

A second door opened. "Only because you're always a fucker first."

Then laugher.

Great. The boys were back.

The band I shared this floor of the building with had a knack for being loud and off key.

With the noise disruption, my eyes weren't working as well, so I moved one lamp over to my desk so I had two spotlights on my papers.

Much better.

Trish checked into the bed-and-breakfast the same night as the shooting. I read over her addition to Katy's logbook, but saw nothing suspicious the seven hundredth time I stared at her sign-in card. I had to talk to her in person, but I'd been busy. Plus, I couldn't figure out how to work my line of questioning. I wanted to see this book she was writing.

A scream cut through my closed door.

It seemed the band had returned to their rock roots. Yay me.

Ten minutes later my office door rattled but not from the band. The wood bowed in and then out as a fist hit it. I grabbed the stun gun from my coat pocket and made my way to the door like a ninja, even though there were no windows to see me through anymore. The cardboard kept the viewing range to zero.

"Who is it?" I called sounding like Little Red Riding Hood waiting to knock the wolf over the head with a brick, except it was more like zap him with my stun gun.

With a flick of my finger, I turned on the gun and gave it a half a zap. It buzzed.

"Vonnie, it's Mick. Open the damn door so I don't look like a weirdo out here in the hallway."

Oh.

I hadn't expected a visit from my paid mentor. Mick signed off on my PI hours so I could apply for a full license once I hit my required minimum, but otherwise he wasn't invested in my work.

"What's up?" I asked as I opened the door and stayed in front of it. "Why didn't you call first?"

I couldn't let Mick see my office in its current disheveled state, and standing in front of the door worked on Mrs. Mets, so I threw my whole body into covering the opening.

Mick huffed. The movement upset the Dick Tracy hat he had on his head. He liked to consider himself the classic PI of Maine but fell short on multiple fronts. The only thing making Mick look like a weirdo in my hallway was Mick.

Someone swore in a rock song voice and Mick flinched. "You ever heard of a surprise inspection?"

He tried to push past, but I fixed my footing and held my ground. "Color me surprised."

If Mick saw my ceiling, he'd have a heart attack. I'd get an entire lecture about reputation and yada yada. He moved forward again, and I crossed my arms over my chest. My forearms bumped into his belly.

He tapped the cardboard blocking the broken window of my door. "I'm not fond of your new decorating style."

Look, we had a comedian. "Funny."

Mick chuckled. "I thought so."

To make sure he didn't get in, I rested against the door. "I had a minor mishap this morning and haven't had time to call a window repair place."

I didn't know if window repair places even existed. How did you buy just a pane of glass? Broadrick would know. I'd wait 'til he got back, then casually mention it to him, and let him go into "fix it" mode.

Mick caught me off guard as I devised a way to get Broadrick to do my dirty work and pushed past me. The door to the office swung open as he walked in.

"It's still dark in here. You said you'd get it fixed, and what's that stain on the ceiling? Is it yellow?"

"No, the lighting is just bad," I said, walking past him to get to my desk. If I didn't sit in my chair, he'd try to steal it from me. Mick had real issues with personal space.

"Is that a dress? Are you wearing a dress? PIs don't wear dresses."

I dropped to my chair and rolled it to the right spot. This is why I always needed a phone call first. I couldn't handle Mick without time to mentally prep. "It's for a thing later and it has shorts and pockets."

I stuck my hand in the pockets and pulled, even though he couldn't see. Shorts and pockets made it a magnificent dress.

"I want to hear everything about this murder case that you've got yourself here in Pelican Bay. You can't leave me out of the loop like last time. With my help, we can solve it together."

He just wanted his name in the paper. No way would I let Mick in on my front page spread.

My phone beeped with a message right as Mick was about to take a seat.

KELVIN: Where are you?

"Shit, Mick. I've got to go. My informant just contacted me about our meeting." I stood up, which stopped him from sitting.

He rubbed his hands together instead, like he'd just gotten a major clue. "Where are you meeting? I can give you a ride."

I shook my head and came up with the best lie in the book. "He's skiddish. If I show up with someone else, he'll make a run for it."

Mick's face fell underneath the brim of his hat. "You'll call and give me the rundown tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." Not.

He eyed my dress again. "You're meeting him in that? Smart."

Ugh. I hated him being technically right.

Mick walked me to my car as I put in the address of Kelvin's mom's house in my GPS.

"I want the full report tomorrow," he said as I unlocked the door.

I nodded. "Totally."

Mick backed up as I shut the door and started the car. Hopefully, he'd forget about me because no way was he stealing my glory on this one. He'd take all the credit.

The drive took less than five minutes, as most things did in town. Kelvin's mom lived in a big yellow cape cod about three blocks from the ocean. It had a large wrap-around porch and what seemed like four hundred cars in the short driveway.

Or ten.

Either way, definitely more cars than I expected. How many siblings did he have?

Crap on a cracker.

I parked at the end-for a simple escape-and counted the cars as I walked to the front door.

One.

Two.

Three.

My heart gave two quick pounds of anxiety.