A car skidded to a stop a foot away from me. If it had gotten any closer, I'd have tapped on the hood, but I had all my attention on Allen.

He and his mistress stopped in the parking lot by his car. He squinted at me. "Vonnie?"

"How dare you?" I yelled.

His woman stepped back away from me. Smart.

Allen, not so much. He stood his ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you, obviously." What did it look like?

I'm glad Vivi broke up with him. She needed someone smarter.

"How dare you and this... this..." I spat out the words and pointed at the woman. "Hussy, be here. In public."

"What did you call me? Am I the hussy?" the woman said with her hand on her chest.

I held up my hand. "I don't want to hear it. Hussy."

Her eyes widened. "Allen. Who is this?" she asked.

Allen sucked in a breath and pushed his arm in front of her. "Vonnie, this is not what it looks like."

I popped my hip for emphasis.

"Oh, really?" I laughed. A loud and disgusting sound to make sure he understood how much I did not believe him. "Let me guess, you're going to say this is your cousin."

"Yes," both of them said in unison.

My word. They thought I was a moron. I snorted. "I don't believe it. Shocking, I know."

Did anyone fall for that kind of crap story? It's exactly what they all said. All the crappy men had one shit excuse between them.

"Anya came up from Alabama to visit me on her college break after she heard what happened," Allen said.

"Uh-huh? I'm sure." Except, I certainly didn't sound sure. It seemed like I thought his story was a pile of crap. Smelly crap. Because I did.

Had my sister bought into his shit? At least she finally saw the truth and kicked him to the curb.

"I have picture proof of your misdeeds," I said and waved my phone at them.

Allen nodded. "Yeah, we were just in there. With my first cousin. Anya. Remember? We are right here?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, my word. I forgot how weird you people are in this town," Anya said and stomped her foot. "Here."

She dug through her purse as I stared off at Allen, trying to wish something terrible on him. Not death because even I wasn't that horrible, but pimples. Lots and lots of pimples. Teenage acne was a bitch.

"Look at my license," Anya said and shoved the laminated card at me.

I didn't want to, but with it so close to my face, I had to at least glance at it. "Anya Culpepper. Big deal." I handed the card to her.

Except it was a big deal. Allen had the last name, Culpepper. Either they were married, it was an amazing coincidence, or they shared family blood.

Damn it.

"Wait." I snatched the card from her and checked the address. "Shoot."

She had an Alabama address.

Anya ripped the card from my hand. "I told you."

"Yeah, well..." I didn't have a comeback for any of this. "Why in the hell did you come to Clearwater?"

Anya shrugged. "I missed the milkshakes since I didn't get one the last time I came up."

"One time, she told my mom it was the only reason she visited," Allen said with a quick chuckle.

His cousin shook her head. "I was ten. You can't keep using that against me."

"Yeah, and you can't keep smiling. You're in public," I said. Did he not understand the public part? He was a murder suspect. It was sad faces all the time. Tears on demand.

The stupid milkshakes.

They weren't that damn good.

I had to face the facts. Allen wasn't smart enough to kill Coach Torres and hide it for this long. He didn't lie well. At all.

"Well then. I'm glad you got your blended milk," I said to Anya, trying to find my escape. "Let's just not tell my sister about this. Okay?"

Allen's expression fell instantly at the mention of my sister. "How is Vivi?"

Ugh. His sad puppy dog face made me feel sorry for him. Allen might have really loved Vivi. And she kicked him to the curb for one little murder suspect misunderstanding. I mean, who didn't get accused of murder occasionally?

Yeah, Allen wasn't a killer.

I bit my lip and then answered, hoping I didn't make it worse. "She's missing you, I'm sure."

He squinted. "You haven't seen her? She's your sister."

My shoulders sagged. Just what I needed. "No, I haven't because I'm a horrible sister. Okay?" My life had been busy. Earlier today I sent my boyfriend off to parts unknown. I had a lot going on.

But I'd get over there and see Vivi soon. For real. I'd ask my mom to make her special mac and cheese. She did it in the crock-pot and let it get all gooey with four kinds of cheese.

Allen opened his car door, leaving Anya to get her own this time. I needed to get away from my mistake.

"Look, I'll make it up to you," I said to Allen as I turned to walk away. "If you don't go to jail for murder, I'll put in a good word with my sister."

It was the least I could do.

Anya dropped her head in her hand. "Just go."

She gave good advice.

I dropped NB at home and headed to the bakery.

Pearl wasn't in her usual seat, so no one yelled at me as I grabbed two cupcakes from the case and shoved both in my face in under three minutes. I needed the reinforcements.

"Where's Pearl?" I asked, sticking my head through the swinging metal doors into the back of the bakery as I tossed my cupcake wrapper in the trash.

"I promise I touched nothing." Tabitha walked out with her hands up. "I only looked at the oven. I didn't get close enough to touch anything."

The cupcake wrapper missed the trash can, so I pushed it closer with my foot. "I believe you," I said. "Where's Pearl?"

"Oh, she's at home," Tabitha said. "It's brownie baking night."

"Ohhh." That might be the only reason Pearl missed her evening tea pit stop. She always took the night off when she had to bake up a batch of her "special" brownies.

"How do you do it, Tabitha?" I asked as she fixed the holes I made from taking my cupcakes.

She glanced up. "Do what?"

I wasn't there to work a shift, but with nothing else to do, I grabbed a towel and spray bottle to clean off a few tables. "Handle having a boyfriend-husband-who goes all you know... military?"

Tabitha chuckled. "I forgot Broadrick left today. I'm sorry."

It wasn't her fault, but I appreciated the thought. I shrugged. If I did anything else, I might cry. Soon I had to go home and eat dinner without him and then watch TV without him.

"I'm just not sure how I handle the waiting." Cleaner from the bottle splashed my hands as I sprayed it and wiped. I sucked at the waiting.

Tabitha closed the display case. "How to handle living with someone who rushes into scary situations I can help with, but Ridge doesn't go on long cases. A night here or there is the normal. I've never been with him during a deployment. I'm sorry."

With a quick nod, I sprayed another table. "No worries. I just have to get over it." Liquid from the spray bottle hit me in the eye and I blinked to clear it.

"No, I don't think so. It's okay to worry. You just need to stay busy while he's gone. We could start a game night." She sounded all peppy as she said it. "Or a book club."

The last time we had a game night, Pearl tried to hex us all because she accused Anessa of cheating at Monopoly. "No. Let's not do that again."

"Yeah, no more board games. I forgot we set that rule. Books might be okay."

"I'm working on these cases, watching NB, and I have an entire house to unpack. That will keep me busy until Broadrick gets home." It had to.

And look at me. No longer freaking out when I called my home Broadrick's home. I was maturing. It came with all the responsibility.

"Oh shit! I have to feed Jeffrey." I dropped the spray bottle and towel on the table and skirted around the end of the counter. "Where is he?"

I'd left him right on the counter.

"Don't freak out," Tabitha said, holding both hands in the air. "He's okay. I put him in the kitchen with Anessa. He was getting frisky out here and it weirded me out."

"He's a beta fish." How frisky could he get?

"His eyes were always looking at me," she said and shivered.

"Okay, crazy." I pushed through the swinging metal doors into the kitchen. "I'll just feed him quick and then finish cleaning up."

Tabitha handed me his shark diaper bag, and I turned around into the kitchen.

"Hello, Jeffrey."

The bag fell from my hands. The arms of death stretched out across the room. A scream tore through my chest. "Help!"