I jerked my head at the rapping sound with my eyes closed. I didn't want to see it if someone had a gun on me. One of my best friends, Katy, waved at me with a slight flick of her elbow when I finally opened them.

She had her hair wrapped up in a bun sticking out of her hat and two cups of something warm in her hands. Her elbow waved at the door and she started for the other side.

I unlocked the car and leaned over to open the door for her, letting in a burst of cold air in an already cooling vehicle. With the engine off, it wouldn't take long before I had to break out the gloves.

Katy shoved a hot chocolate into my hands and I repositioned myself, careful not to spill any. The black trash bag covering the window fluttered as she closed the door. Katy glanced back at it but didn't comment.

"I have extra binoculars in my glove box," I said, lifting the pair I'd looped around my neck back to my eyes.

Katy scoffed. "Girl, I brought my own."

This was why we were friends. We got each other.

She pulled out a sleek all black pair from her pocket and stared at the police station with me. It was attached to the fire station, but they didn't have any of the enormous doors open because of the weather, and we couldn't see anything over there. The binoculars only worked for when someone finally walked out of the building.

"How's Broadrick?" she asked after a few minutes of watching the quiet station. Only one car was in the parking lot, but that didn't mean they weren't up to shit in there.

I pinched my lips together. "Good. I guess he's my boyfriend now."

"Good." I didn't see Katy's grin, but I swore I heard it. "It's about time he figured out his shit."

"Yeah, I don't know about that part." We still had issues. Like him going undercover and using me as a reason to be in Pelican Bay.

The whole bossy thing.

I needed to start a list.

And if I had to list complaints, sometimes he was way too supportive. Like, really? He just let me run off and stake out the police station with a reminder to "wear gloves." What was he thinking? I might be up to dangerous stuff out here.

"So why are you out here without hot chocolate in a half-frozen car watching the police station? Your vehicle is totally sus on a normal day, but throw in that window, and everyone knows who it is. How are you even driving it?"

I shrugged, but she might have missed it with only the moonlight coming through the front windshield. "The bullets missed all the important stuff. I'm thinking about keeping them. For street cred."

Broadrick had a mechanic look at Rachel before he let me take her out for a drive. He said it was just "some guy" he knew from the military, but I figured it was an undercover mechanic he brought in on the downlow to check out my ride. At least that's the story I told myself so it sounded cooler than he bribed a mechanic from Clearwater to look at it in the school parking lot.

Katy raised her binoculars to her eyes and swept the area with her gaze. "So, what are we looking for at the station?"

I wasn't a hundred percent sure but would count one person as a win. "The chief."

Katy lowered her binoculars, and I caught a whiff of her lavender body spray. "Oh, the chief already came into the bakery, so he's probably done with his shift. You know, he only comes in on his way out of town."

Damn it. I popped open the small sip hole of my hot chocolate and tasted it. The liquid scorched my tongue.

"Hmm," I said as Katy watched me struggle to sip the beverage.

Something fishy was going on with the chief and this shooting. I just couldn't put my finger on what. It's not like I expected him to walk out of the station with a flashing light that said "Murderer" or "Sleeping with Trish," but I wouldn't complain if he did. Were the cops-including Detective Anderson-covering for him? I'd have to update my review of him to Lainey.

"I have plans with Pierce tonight. Are you going to be okay here alone? You look pensive?" Katy asked, taking a large drag of her hot chocolate. How was hers cold enough already?

I blew on the top of the cup. "Yeah, I'm cool."

With the chief gone already, most of the other cops were also probably home. The county handled most of the night calls because Pelican Bay didn't have enough crime or money to provide a full force. I wasn't sure where else to stake out with everyone gone. Did cops have a place they hung out together after hours?

Where did they get together to plan nefarious activities?

Broadrick left to handle something at the security office, so if I went home, I'd have to hang out with NB and Spencer. I could handle the dog, but the cat scared me.

Katy bumped her hot chocolate cup against mine and then left my car, barely opening the door to let herself out. "Good luck," she whispered before she closed it.

I sat in silence, contemplating my decisions. If no one was in the building, I could squeeze in through the back bathroom window and give the place a look-see. It was risky but might be worth it.

An older model red Honda turned into the lot and parked at the back of the police station lot, and Officer Bradley jumped out and ran into the building like his feet were on fire.

Interesting.

I raised a brow as he used a key to open the precinct door and slipped inside with a suspicious glance back at the lot.

Double interesting.

Also, a good thing I didn't sneak in without a lookout. I'd have to tell Broadrick about my good choices later. Maybe he would buy me a cupcake as a reward.

Why did Bradley get out of his car so fast? Why the suspicious backward glance?

The fines for breaking into a police station were probably pretty steep. I tried not to look those things up, so I didn't know the true consequences before I decided on courses of action. I didn't want to be influenced by outside sources.

But...

Breaking into an off-duty cop's car was more than likely significantly less. Probably not even any jail time. I snuck out of my car, pulling a Katy by barely opening the door and then closing it so it didn't make a sound.

I waited by the side of it, using the car's body to block me from the wind, and slipped on my gloves. No point in leaving fingerprints. When another sixty seconds passed and Bradley didn't return from the building, I ran toward the light post at the edge of the parking lot.

No one came running at me, so I dashed for the end of Bradley's bumper. Why didn't they have more tall things in the way to give me places to hide? This town needed more bushes. I stomped through the snow pile and cursed when it got the sides of my boots wet.

I popped up alongside the back door of the red Honda and peeked into the backseat.

"Gross," I said, and it echoed on the empty street.

I ducked to make sure no one came running, and when the task force didn't rush at me, I stood again. His car was... clean. Like disgustingly clean. Not a single takeout cup from the bakery was lying in his backseat. He didn't even have a notebook to keep notes and other important shit in.

How did he live like this?

I leaned in closer and pressed my nose against the glass to make sure I wasn't missing anything.

Nothing.

The front seat was empty as well. Someone shoved a navy-colored jacket into a ball on the seat with yellow letters half visible in the ball. Was that an F? And a...B?

No.

Not Bradley.

Why would he have an FBI jacket?