I sucked down a big helping of my iced coffee and leaned against the desk in my new office the next afternoon. Broadrick had his body bent over-giving me a magnificent view of his ass-as he hid a camera in my fake plant.

"You'll take the cameras out after this is done. Right?"

He moved to the side and adjusted two of the fern's leaves while keeping his eye on his phone.

"B?" I said a little louder and stood up straighter next to the desk.

He glanced back for less than a second. "Huh?"

"The cameras? You'll take them down today. Right?" Our little party would only last an hour, tops. There was no need to keep my office under camera surveillance after everyone left.

"Of course, babe," he said, but he used way too much flippancy for me to be comfortable with his answer.

I straightened even more and set my iced coffee on the desk. "No, for real. They have to come down right away."

Broadrick laughed and stood. "Yes, I promise."

"Okay, good, because I counted them and I will count them on the way out." I picked up my iced coffee again but didn't take a drink.

He gave me a closed-mouth peck on the lips and one of his smiles. I threatened my knees to not go all jelly. He affected me in ways I'd never admit and didn't need to know it. I'd never live it down if anyone found out how he made my heart pitter-patter when he looked at me. I wasn't one of those women. A man didn't rule my life. I was strong and independent.

Also, suspiciously and deeply in love with the man.

"What are you thinking about with that face?" he asked.

I laughed with a shake of my head. "Nothing."

Broadrick stared at me for a full half-minute. "Just don't rob anyone."

Half my sip of iced coffee almost went up my nose. "Thanks for your vote of confidence."

"You're all set in here. You're sure you want to go through with this?" he asked.

I sucked on a long drink. "Yeah."

I didn't have any other options. My timeline was quickly reaching its end, and if I didn't act soon, I might fall off it and drown. Or go splat. It depended on where the timeline ended.

"You've got a camera in both corners, front and back, for different angles. One in the plant, as you saw. Another in the window blind behind you to get their faces and one voice recorder under the desk so we don't have sound feedback from too many in one space."

I nodded. It was the setup we'd discussed and the one instance I didn't think Ridge's cameras were totally overboard. "That seems like all the good angles."

Since I watched him install each one, I'd remember where they were when the time came to remove them. Ridge and his crew did not need to learn my trade secrets.

A tall dude wearing a tan trench coat filled my office door opening.

"It's about time you got here," I said to Anderson. He said they'd have his end done at least ten minutes earlier.

He shot me an annoyed look. "I stopped in the other room first. They're all set up."

By the other room he meant the office next door to me where he, Officer Bentley, Broadrick, and Dalton were going to hang out in case things went sideways with my plan.

"Oh, ye men of little faith," I said and finished the iced coffee. I needed the sugar buzz to get me through my meeting and dealing with all the testosterone in the next room.

"I'd like it stated one last time that I don't agree with anything about this plan," Anderson said as he perched himself against the doorframe.

Broadrick crossed his arms and tilted his head to stare at me in a similar pose to Anderson. "I already tried that."

"It's stupid, and your theory makes no sense. You might end up doing more damage to my case." Anderson frowned and talked at the same time-a true talent.

I threw my hands in the air. "What case?"

They had just as much as I did on Mick's death. Nothing.

"It takes time to solve a murder, Vonnie. I have to make sure we have enough evidence to put someone behind bars." Anderson stuck his hand in his pocket, looking relaxed, but I knew it annoyed him that he had nothing to go on.

He just didn't want to admit it.

If he really was close to taking someone in for the crime, he wouldn't be here helping me. We both knew it.

"Just trust me."

He didn't have any other choice.

I turned and stared out the window of my first-floor office. At least in the Kensington building, I had a window. Two of them.

I played a big game with Anderson, but honestly... I had no plans. No theory. Nothing. That morning, I hinted at my working theory to him. It included a plan to get Frasier to roll on Mick's stepson. But honestly, I didn't believe Eric did it. He didn't have that killer vibe. But if not Eric then who?

What I knew was that Frasier had his house packed and was leaving the state soon. We were all running out of time. Frasier would never flip, but Mick's wife might.

My plan: Wing it.

"Okay, you two need to go so I can get into character," I said, turning around and shooing them out of my space. The testosterone was messing with the energy in the room and my vibe.

I took twenty minutes to breathe and work through a bunch of scenarios in my head. Probably too many, even though I wanted to be prepared for anything. The chance Frasier brought me a poisoned iced coffee was slim to none. But never zero.

Although, if he did, that would be a poison for Vonnie.

A poison chosen specifically to kill Vonnie.

Vonnie's poison.

Someone knocked on my office door, and I shook my head out of thoughts where Frasier turned me into a donkey. Would Broadrick still loved me if I had a tail? I had to get it together.

"Come in," I said, getting back into the game.

It was show time and I couldn't mess up.

The door opened, and Frasier walked in wearing a pair of khaki dress pants and a light blue button-down shirt tucked into them. He was... so the opposite of Mick. Again, I had to ask how these two were partners.

Behind him tailed Samantah Darcy, Mick's wife and heavily grieving widow. Except today she smiled as she saw me, and her eyes were as dry as the Sahara. I pretended not to notice as she came in, fixing a piece of her dark brown hair that was caught in the collar of her pink blouse shirt button.

"Oh, good to see you both," I said, standing up from my desk and acting like I forgot our visit. They had to believe this was a normal day for me and not something I'd been rehearsing. "Did you guys meet in the lobby?"

Samantha glanced at Frasier, and the edges of her lips turned up at the same time her eyes went soft. Busted.

Shit.

Everything clicked into place. The who, how, and why of Mick's death. I'd missed the signs and been asking the wrong questions. But not any longer.

My eyes widened, but I had to forcibly make them smaller so Frasier didn't see that I'd finally figured out the entire plot. One glance told me everything.

"No," Frasier answered for her, not giving the same clues into their relationship. "We decided to save gas and drive here together."

"Great. Always love it when people take responsibility for the Earth." I motioned for them to sit, and my stomach tightened as my performance kicked into overdrive. Except everything I'd practiced before no longer meant anything. I had to start from scratch with the bases loaded. Crap, Vonnie, don't start the baseball puns again.

I sat after they settled in the seats in front of my desk and took a second to have a mini panic attack. How did I miss the signs? They'd been right in front of me the entire time.

Love.

Or at least infatuation.

None of the clues in this case added up because they were all lying for each other. We had a full-on conspiracy happening.

Now I just had to determine whether there were two bad eggs or three.

But how?

My chest grew tight, like the skin around my ribs shrank. Or my heart was enlarging because of the stress. A tic started up behind my eyeball. Then came the twitch.

"Are you okay?" Samantha asked as she and Frasier stared at me.

No. Definitely not okay.

Wing it? Wing it! What had I been thinking? Clearly, I'd lost my mind. How did Broadrick let me say that and then he left me to my own devices? Didn't he know I was a mess? Murder confessions were not something where you just winged it.

The skin under my eye twitched. Great, that's going to be super annoying.

I rubbed the spot to get it under control. "Yes, sorry. I was just taking a moment to remember Mick. Things will never be the same without him here."

"It's such a sad loss. I don't know how Eric and I will move on," Samantha said, and it sounded like she was tearing up, but her eyes remained dry.

"Why did you ask us here?" Frasier asked.

"Right." I grabbed the pen I stole from Mick's desk and clicked the top once. "I have a few clarifying questions to ask before you both leave town. Where are you going again?"

"I'm visiting a friend," Samantha said with a slight smile.

I nodded. "Yes, I remember. In Tennessee. Correct?"

One pen click.

Samantha's eyebrows tightened. "I don't remember telling you that."

She didn't. Her son, Eric, gave me that important clue.

"And Frasier, you're headed that way as well?" I said it airy and light, hoping they didn't freeze up.

He'd said the mountains. And I'd bet money he meant the Appalachians.

"But we're not going together," Samantha said. She had her fingers wrapped around the arm of the chair until her knuckles turned white.

Interesting. And suspicious.

How did Anderson miss these signs?

"She didn't think that. Did you?" Frasier asked, keeping his gaze on me. He still had a laid-back posture going for him with his feet kicked out as he lounged against the back of the chair.

"I hadn't given it much thought," I lied and clicked the pen. "Are those areas close?"

Samantha shook her head, leaning forward. "Hours apart. We'll never see each other again."

"That's unfortunate. I'm sure you two have grown close while you worked with Mick," I said to Frasier.

He inched forward.

Got him.

"Sure, I've gotten to know the family. That's to be expected," he said.

"Right. Well, I've been following the leads," I said as casually as possible. "I researched all the things you said about Eric, Frasier, and I didn't see the connection at first."

Samantha turned her head from staring at me to a tight-eyes questioning stare at Frasier. She unwrapped her fingers from the chair arms and placed them in her lap. "You talked to her about Eric?"