Broadrick smiled but something behind him caught my eye. A person in a familiar uniform moved past the aisle and away from us. I jerked to the side to see around Broadrick, but she was already gone.

"Let's compromise," he said, making another grab at the sheets, which didn't seem very compromising to me.

The store was full of bright light, but I just kept missing the person. Was it who I thought, or was my mind playing tricks on me? "How?"

"We'll get two sets of sheets. One with the... moose and another pair that are soft and silky for normal people."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You like silky things?"

"Yeah, who doesn't?" He moved to the side, and I walked past him, now set on pursuing my mystery shopper. I'd already picked out my sheets. "I can't afford to buy two sets."

Pierce didn't lower any of the prices. In fact, some people were saying he raised the prices after taking over, but since no one could even prove that Pierce had actually bought the place-and Katy was staying mum-no one was sure who to blame.

"Then it's a good thing I can," he said. "The sheet display is this way. I can see it."

I waved him away. "You go pick out your girly sheets and I'll meet up with you."

Thin wasn't my thing in February, but I'd probably appreciate them in the summer. I'd also have to remember the silky thing the next time I bought nightgowns.

"No," he said.

I popped my head back to him, giving him attention for the first time in a few minutes. "What?"

"You're clearly up to something." He had his back to the area that drew my interest, so he didn't see the scene I watched as it unfolded.

"I'm just surveillance-ing." A good PI couldn't determine when a perp was going to fall into her hands. If I'd known I would have left him at home.

I jerked my chin behind him and Broadrick turned around, his shoe squeaking on the tile floor. "Where?"

"No!" I jerked on his shirt to pull him back to me. "Don't be so suspicious about it."

I held the sheets between us so if she spotted us, we'd look like a normal couple arguing about sheets. Although, why any sane person would turn them away still baffled me.

"Suspicious about what?" he asked, trying to turn around again, but I still had a hold of his sleeve.

"Trish. From the diner. She's over there looking at coffee mugs." She held a Darth Vader molded mug up to the light and then put it back on the shelf.

Broadrick nodded. "Okay, and that matters because?"

It's a good thing I was the PI and not him. "We're going to see what she buys."

"Why?" he asked, and I let him look behind him but not turn his body. Trish moved on to a metal mug with one of those tight-fitting lids.

"A mug can tell you a lot about a person." Obviously.

Broadrick turned back and walked past me, headed toward the sheets. "Yeah, like how often they have to use the bathroom or their caffeine addiction."

"Exactly." Trish had two mugs in her hands, holding both up in front of her and inspecting. One like the cool ass thirty-dollar mug Broadrick purchased me and the other a thin but long mug that would definitely fit in cup holders but would look ridiculous while doing it.

I still had a jumble of clues regarding the bed-and-breakfast murder, and I'd take anything if it helped me dive into the suspects. What mug was Trish going to pick?

"Trish didn't shoot anyone, Von." He tried to move again, but I couldn't leave.

My suspect spotted something at the end of the mug row that had her face light up. Her smile grew and her eyes widened and gleamed in the light. She put both mugs back on the shelf and rubbed her hands together marching forward for whatever gem she'd found.

"Just wait. Watch," I said and Broadrick turned around.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You are crazy."

Trish reached the end of the row and grabbed her new selection off the shelf. A big black and metal mug that looked like it could fit an entire liter of coffee. It reminded me of a beer barrel with its fat middle.

She was not getting that thing in a cup holder. That was the type of mug you stuck between your legs while you were driving. It was completely impractical unless you had one place to be for long periods of time.

"Broadrick, do you know what this means?" I asked as she stuck the outrageous mug in her shopping cart.

He shrugged. "Trish likes coffee and should probably get her blood pressure checked."

"That mug is not for Trish." Wasn't he paying attention?

He glanced at me, still doing the crossy arm thing. "It's not?"

"No, Trish uses the mugs at the diner. That's cop shit."

Two things the cops in this town loved. Doughnuts and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. They were always complaining about our large to-go cups being too small. So much so that Anessa finally let them bring in their own containers to fill. Since they drank for free, it actually saved the bakery money. Now, if their cup was too small, they only had themselves to blame.

She was a genius.

"That seems like a stretch, Von," Broadrick said, and started off toward the sheets again.

"Wait," I semi-yelled. I wanted to stay and make sure she didn't put it back on the shelf.

Trish turned in our direction, and I dropped to the floor, taking Broadrick with me. "Do you think she saw us?"

"The entire store saw," he said from his crouched position. "Now what?"

"We crawl to the sheets and pretend we've been there the entire time," I answered and started that way. A squeaky wheel on a cart pushed closer to our hiding spot.

"Vonnie Vines, is that you?" Trish's voice cut through my panic.

I stopped crawling and turned around on my knees. "Trish, fancy seeing you out of the diner."

She smiled. "Is everything okay?" The black and metal mug was still in her cart. That had to mean she planned to buy it.

"Me?" I pointed at myself. Broadrick stood up. "I was looking for an earring."

Trish narrowed her eyes as she stared at me. "You're not wearing any earrings, darling."

I grabbed at my ears. "Well, would you look at that? I'm not." I laughed.

Broadrick laughed.

Trish did not laugh.

"Sorry, babe. I guess you were right. I forgot to put them in."

Broadrick turned to Trish. "I'm always telling her to listen to me, but she never does. On anything. Ever." I didn't think he meant the earrings.

"You have fun with your shopping," I said, pulling on Broadrick after I dusted off my jeans. Pierce needed to get a cleaning crew in here. "We're off to look at sheets."

Trish gave me a half wave and walked toward the front of the store where they had checkouts.

"Great, now I am going to have to go on a stakeout tonight," I whispered to him, in case we weren't far enough away yet.

Broadrick grabbed my hand. "Because Trish bought an ugly mug?"

"Yup." Something fishy was going on in Pelican Bay, and it wasn't just the fishing boats. "I need to see what's up at the police station tonight."

See if Trish made a quick delivery to her favorite lover-the chief. No way was she sleeping with Jerry. He used diner mugs too. I didn't know if the chief was her favorite or if she even had more than one, but you didn't buy a mug that big for an acquaintance. That was lover mug money. If she delivered it to the chief tonight, I'd have her red-handed... mugged.

"Wear gloves," Broadrick said, and steered us to the black silk sheets at the end of the back wall.

**

Hours later, I pulled Rachel to the curb on the other side of the street of the police station. She ran fine, except for a few bullet holes in her bumper and two trash bags covering the back window.

I couldn't get too close to the police station or they might figure out something was up. Broadrick opted not to come along, but I'd shown him my gloves before I left. They were now shoved in my pocket, but I considered pulling them out once the car cooled off.

The street lamp above the car flickered twice and then off before flickering back to life. "Great, that's not ominous or anything."

Nothing moved in front of the police building, and the surrounding streets were also dead. I settled in for a long evening of watching what illicit activities the cops of Pelican Bay got into when the city was quiet. That had to be the time they created their nasty plans. Whatever they were.

My car window shook as someone knocked on the outside. I dropped my phone and froze, unable to get my hands on the keys and start the car to make a getaway.

"Shit."