The chief swung the weapon wide and aimed it back at me. I ducked behind his bedroom door as the shot rang out and he charged.

Trish met him halfway and hit him on the back with a lamp from the nightstand beside him, making the top half of his body bob forward. "You used me?"

She was no longer crying, and her bellow was definitely picked up by my phone's recording.

The chief sputtered something and twisted away from her.

I couldn't leave her out there alone. When he turned his head, I ran at the chief and knocked the gun away from his hand with my foot before plowing into him. My chest hurt from the hits I'd taken the last few days, and I reached for the stun gun in my pocket.

Except I wasn't wearing a coat.

And I didn't have my stun gun.

My hands came back empty since Broadrick had my stun gun in the leather coat, but it was probably dead anyway. If I survived this, I'd have to charge it.

I connected with the chief, and we fell on the floor in a heap of arms and legs. He called me names I'd rather not repeat, and I tried my best to get him over to his stomach so I could sit on him like I had with Tyler.

It worked before, except the chief had more muscle for an old guy, so it didn't the second time.

"Hold still, will you?" I asked as I grabbed for his hand.

He made a fist and swung it at me, grazing my back. What a jerk.

"Vonnie, get off him!" Trish yelled and we both turned to glance at her. Our struggle momentarily stopped. She had the gun.

At the sight of Trish, I froze and then rolled off the chief. He kicked at me and his shoe caught me in the gut.

"That's right, sweetheart. We'll take care of her together," the chief said as he stood up.

I stayed on the ground, clutching my stomach. He had a kick on him.

Trish smiled, and I closed my eyes, hoping NB made it out of the house when I died. Surely Ridge would take him back to Broadrick when they found my body.

The gun fired, the shot echoing through the room like a cannon. I flinched and my upper body jerked. The sound could have knocked down walls, but my body didn't light on fire.

No burning.

No tearing of skin.

No blood splatter.

A thud from in front of me caused me to open my eyes in time to see the chief, who'd fallen to his knees, twist around in a weird puddle as his body fell to the floor. He didn't go backward like I expected but rather pretzeled.

"I shot Hank," Trish said to herself more than me.

Shit, she'd shot Hank. I rolled out of the way and stood on shaky feet. "You had to do it."

"You fucking bitch," said the chief as he writhed to roll over on the floor.

Trish aimed the gun at him. "Should I shoot him again?"

"No!" I raised my hands. Once was self-defense. She'd get over that since she didn't kill him, but a downright murder she'd never come back from-mentally or in the town's gossip column.

"You shot me in the fucking stomach," the chief moaned.

He'd recover from a gut shot. Most likely.

I stepped over his body and dislodged my foot from his hold as he tried to grab on. "Were you aiming for his stomach?"

"No, his head." She stared at her ex-hopefully she'd break up with him after this-as he held his stomach while he lay on the floor.

I said a silent prayer that she hadn't hit me. Aiming for his head and hitting him in the stomach was quite a difference. It was safe to say she hadn't shot a man between the eyes. Blood pooled on the carpet by the chief.

"We have to get him help," I said pulling my phone from my back pocket and walked into the hall. Trish had the situation under control. The phone was still recording. I hoped I'd gotten the chief's confession, so I pressed pause.

The front door slammed against the wall downstairs as three men ran into the home. Ridge climbed the stairs first followed by Broadrick and then Detective Anderson.

"You're always just a few minutes late," I said to the three men as they made their way to the bedroom. Behind them, a sea of Navy jacketed FBI agents, led by Officer Bradley-in his standard police uniform-ran up the steps with their guns drawn.

"Vonnie." Broadrick stopped as he got to me. "What the hell happened to staying home?"

I shrugged. I hadn't had enough time to come up with my story yet.

He shook his head and then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. His lips found mine in a terribly wonderful kiss, full of emotion as he battled for control of my mouth. I opened and let his tongue sweep in and gain control.

NB barked and ran up the steps to stand between us.

Broadrick glanced down at him. "You brought my dog to an active crime investigation?"

"He was backup."

**

Three days later, I sat across from Susan Keene as she conducted the exclusive interview I'd granted her. There weren't any other lead reporters in Pelican Bay.

"This is a great shot of me, thanks," I said, gluing the image Susan promised they'd use in the front-page edition of the week's paper to my case scrapbook. I made sure to leave room for the article.

The photo was of me walking behind Anderson into the police station as he carted the chief in wearing handcuffs. No way was I going to miss the chance at an excellent shot again. I'd followed him all the way back to the station after breaking the case. It made a splendid color image for my case scrapbook. Katy would love it when I showed her the update.

Susan finished scribbling notes in her book and leaned back in the chair across from my desk. To her credit, she hadn't mentioned the gaping hole above my desk. I hadn't had time to get it fixed.

"Just one thing is lacking with your story," Susan said. Had I missed a clue? "You didn't make me feel sympathy for the victim."

I leaned forward and raised a shoulder. "Not all victims are good people." Some of them just plain suck, and sadly, this fell into that category. "Would it make you feel better if I said he was only involved in crime because he was paying the medical bills for his dying mother?"

Susan's face lit up and her eyes widened. She grabbed her pen again. "Was he?"

"No."

She relaxed back into her chair. "I'm just not sure of my angle. It's not a very upbeat story."

"Well, it was a murder, Susan." What more did she want from me?

This job wasn't puppies and rainbows, but I knew that when I got into the PI business, and I wouldn't let it chase me out. If the boys could handle it, so could I.

"His boss-who is still to be determined-sent Ace Ross to make a bribe payment to Todd Hunt for the chief's protection. Except Ace lost the entire fifteen thousand in a poker game the night before." I rolled my chair closer to the desk and stuck my elbows on it. The motive came down to money. Greed. The most cardinal sin of them all.

"How'd you finally put the pieces together?" she asked. Susan had her brown hair into her classic tight bun, but a piece had fallen out as we talked. She struggled to tuck it back into place.

I hadn't, but she didn't need to know that. Once Anderson had the chief in custody, Todd sang like a canary.

"Susan, I can't give away valuable crime-solving methods. That's how I make my money. You're going to include my contact information in the article. Right?"

She nodded, so I carried on.

"Anyway, the chief's guy gave him a week to come up with the cash, but when he didn't produce, the chief got involved and we know how the story ends. I guess he wanted to set an example but it cost him everything."

Susan clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "It's all so violent."

"Criminals normally are." I closed the scrapbook and returned it to the filing cabinet.

Susan stood, finished with our interview. "And no one was acting with him?"

I confirmed the statement with a brief nod. So far, everyone had left Trish's name out of the story, and I hope it stayed that way. She deserved to go on and live a wonderful life with Jerry. The DA was processing the paperwork to her shooting the chief as self-defense.

"Ridge is working on bringing down the ring working with the chief, and of course, I'll be helping." Ridge just didn't know it yet.

Susan hesitated at the door. "The interview will run in this week's edition of the paper, but if you think of anything else, let me know."

"Will do."

A body replaced hers as she left. Broadrick came into my office carrying a pink bag from the bakery. "I've decided I'm not mad at you anymore," he said as the door closed behind him.

"What?" I sat in my chair, which only squished a little with the leftover water from my ceiling issue. "You're not mad at me? I'm mad at you!"

Where did he get off being upset with me? I was the injured party.

Broadrick placed the bag on my desk but didn't sit. Instead, he stood over the space and leaned forward to speak softer. "You almost blew the case against the chief, got yourself shot at again, and didn't stay home like you should have."

I smacked my lips together. "Trish has horrible aim. She'd never have hit me."

Broadrick tested the seat across from me and then sat. "Ridge and the FBI have been working on this case for over five years."

"Really? Wow. And I cracked it in less than ten days? That's amazing."

For me.

Broadrick rolled his eyes. "No, you just ran at it like a bull in a china shop. Ridge had to gather evidence and make sure he put together everything without error."

"Sucks for him. That's why I didn't become a cop."

Broadrick rubbed at his temple with his thumb. "No one wants the chief getting out on a technicality. Like a murder weapon being in someone's freezer."

"But five years. Really?" Wow, I rocked.

"Before this, Ridge didn't have the chief on camera killing someone."

"Wait." I popped my head up from my celebration fantasy. "He had him on camera?"

"Vonnie, this entire town is on camera." Broadrick stole the pink bag and opened it, grabbing a blueberry muffin. "He has every move the chief made that evening on film and was just waiting for the FBI to give the all clear."

"I still solved it first." We couldn't forget the important facts. Broadrick handed me a chocolate muffin from the bag. I frowned at it. "There's no enhanced topping."

"The FBI is probably going to interview you," he said, unwrapping his boring muffin.

"I get a chief of police being a criminal is a bad thing, but why is the FBI so involved?" I hadn't put that part fully together, or figured out why Bradley had that FBI coat in his car. Unless it belonged to one agent working the case. It made sense but didn't feel complete.

"The chief has been using his connections to take bribes and allow safe passage to Canada through Pelican Bay, but in the last year, he's stepped up his game. He's been the middleman of a crime ring involving the selling of government weapons to known terrorist groups."

Wow, he had stepped it up in the crime department. Probably those mortgage payments he had to make on the McMansion.

"So Ridge and Anderson knew the chief killed Ace Ross the night it happened but let him wander around town as a free man for over a week?" That seemed like shitty police business.

"Babe, running guns under the government's nose is bigger than murdering one criminal associate."

"Sad, but true." Still sucked, though.

So, I hadn't uncovered the bigger of the two crimes, but I had solved a murder without the help of Ridge's videos and I got a front-page interview in the paper. I won.

"Wait," I said and tried to reattach my muffin wrapper. "So you knew there was a second shooter this entire time, but let me run around thinking I was crazy?"

Broadrick grinned. "I gave you that clue."

"What clue? The stupid clue? The one with no context? That wasn't a clue. It was a misdemeanor crime in itself." I ripped off the rest of the wrapper and threw it at Broadrick across the desk.