"I... we talked about many people," he said, barely moving from his seat.

"Oh, yes. Frasier had a firm suspicion at the beginning of the investigation that Eric was a strong person of interest. He gave me quite a few leads to check in on. Without his insistence, I'd have missed them."

I clicked the pen twice.

"He said what?" Samantha twisted in her seat, practically giving him her back.

I nodded. "He said-"

"Shut up," Frasier sneered between his teeth.

I pretended to be stupid. People expected that more from blondes. They never saw kick-ass PI coming at them until it was too late. "Don't you want Mick's killer put behind bars?"

"Of course, we want justice done," Frasier answered quickly.

"Eric would never harm Mick," Samantha rushed to defend her child.

Frasier leaned closer, moving further out of his seat. He wasn't the relaxed non-suspect any longer. "Are you implying we don't want Mick's killer caught?"

I triple clicked the pen. The conversation veered off direction, and I wasn't sure how to get it back on track with me in charge of our destination.

They couldn't turn on each other if they weren't on the same roadway.

"Thanks to Frasier, I gathered evidence on quite a bit of Eric's background and provided that research to the police department earlier this morning."

Pro Tip: Police and private eyes can lie.

And I was damn good at it.

Samantha almost jumped out of her seat. "You gave evidence to the police? About my Eric?"

I squirmed as Samantha gawked at me, wishing she had lasers for eyes. She might not have killed Mick, but she definitely wanted me dead.

"How can she do that?" she demanded at Frasier as she turned to face him.

Frasier kept a calm voice as he responded. "Just relax, Sam."

"Relax?" she screeched at him and then twisted around to me. The chair squeaked with her movements. "What will the police do?"

"Police things." I clicked the pen twice and shrugged. Since this evidence didn't exist and I'd never given it to Anderson, they wouldn't do much, but Samantha didn't need to know that. "I'm sure the force will give it a thorough examination and then conduct their own investigation."

Samantha grew white. Her lips quivered, and she pinched them closed with the index and middle fingers of her right hand. There had to be so much rushing through her mind.

I did my best not to grin. I shouldn't find such enjoyment by hanging people out to dry, but I did. Catching criminals just made my damn day.

A mother's love was about to push Samantha over the edge. She just needed a few more nudges.

"Samantha, just calm down. I'll take care of things," Frasier said and placed his hand on her arm.

She pushed it away and sucked in a deep breath as her head shook. "Eric didn't do this."

"Frasier said that Eric had a history of violence," I said, sounding sad about the news.

"You told her that?" Samantha yelled, and she didn't really ask it like a question. More of an accusation.

A big one.

She started to stand, but Frasier waved her into her chair. "Sit down. We'll talk about this later."

"What was in the evidence?" she asked me, making the chair squeak again as she moved.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said, not looking the least bit sad. "I can't disclose things that are important to a case."

"What case?" Samantha asked. She was so far off her seat she had to hover on the edge.

"The case against Eric in the murder of his step-father. He doesn't have an alibi." The pen cap sank into the pad of my thumb as I clicked it for emphasis.

Maybe Mick was onto something with his pen thing.

"He didn't do it." Samantha's face went from white to red in an instant as the adrenaline surged through her system.

My lungs finally filled for the first time since they walked in. The tightness in my chest lessened. "It doesn't look good for him."

"I did it." She bolted up from her chair and pointed a finger at her chest. "I killed Mick. He drove me nuts as a husband and I wanted him gone."

Frasier stood up beside her and said something in her ear, but I only heard mumbles.

"No, Samantha. You're on camera at the bank the entire morning of Mick's death. It couldn't have been you."

Her gaze searched mine. I swear I saw the levers moving in her brain as she tried to fabricate a way to explain the cameras.

Frasier tried to place his arms around her as if he wanted to wrestle her back into her seat or out my door, but Samantha wasn't having it.

"I'm not letting my son go down for a crime he didn't commit," she said in response to something Frasier whispered. I hoped the microphone was close enough to catch it.

Frasier tugged at her arms as she wrapped them around her chest. "We'll get him a lawyer. The best one in the state."

"You said it was foolproof." She jerked away from him and walked behind the chair, putting it between them.

Frasier's face grew hard. "Shut up, Sam. Don't say something we'll both regret."

"You have to believe me." Samantha held up her hands in my direction. "I would have divorced him and been done with it. Mick said he wouldn't fight me, but Fraz wanted the money."

"Samantha!" Frasier yelled, his face a stormy red color. "I'm not sticking around for your bullshit."

He turned toward the door, but Samantha kept talking. "He told me he'd do it. That he'd take care of everything. I just had to be at work on the cameras."

Frasier turned away from the door with his hand on the knob. "I don't know what you're talking about. She's obviously trying to place blame to get her dead-beat son off the hook for killing Mick."

She straightened, her eyes wide with mama bear anger. "He told me I had to get to work that morning and not to worry about anything. It was better if I didn't know how it happened."

"Is that so?" I asked and shook my head but kept my gaze down, so they didn't catch the grin forming on my face.

"How could you?" she asked Frasier. "How could you frame my son?"

I understood her outrage. He tried to frame me first.

He opened the door. "I'm leaving."

"You said you loved me!" Samantha moved to stand closer to me. "He killed Mick so we could be together."

That's the bingo.

I clicked Mick's pen one last time in victory.

In my moment of quiet celebration, Frasier jumped at Samantha with his hands out toward her head. It was like he planned to physically hold her mouth shut. She pulled back her arm to take a swing at him.

Shit.

I couldn't let them kill each other. With them dead, I'd never get credit for closing Mick's case.

Samantha screamed as she launched at Frasier. Shit, where was that stapler from Tony? I might have to clobber someone. I pivoted over my desk and made it to them as the two clashed. We knocked into the chair. The arm hit me in the fleshy part of my hip, throwing me more into the action. I stumbled, falling into the two of them, and we all tumbled to the floor.

"I'm not going down for Mick's murder," Frasier yelled as he struggled to grab Samantha's arms.

She flung them around, hitting me once in the side of my head and causing my ear to ring. The carpet scratched up my elbows as I worked to pull Frasier off her, but he yanked me to the side, and I hit the ground hard.

The door to my office opened, and two lumbering bodies came crashing into our mosh pit. Anderson grabbed me around the waist and hauled me from the melee. He dumped me next to my desk and pressed his back against me with his arms out so I couldn't get back into the action.

Broadrick had a hold of Frasier, trying to get his hands behind his back, but Frasier turned in his grip. His right arm flung back and then slammed forward, hitting Broadrick in the chin.

"Broadrick!" I yelled and tried to maneuver past Anderson.

He held me back. "Mac's got this."

Someone swore-I was pretty sure it came from Frasier-and then in another split second Broadrick had Frasier on his stomach.

Frasier panted as Broadrick jerked his arms behind his back to secure him. Anderson handed him a white zip tie and Broadrick looped it around Frasier's wrists. If he pulled a stitch trying to be macho, I was going to yell at him.

"You dumb bitch," Frasier said to Samantha as she sat on the floor watching the scene. "It was all her idea. She even forged Mick's signature on the insurance papers."

"I hope you got all that on camera," I said and did my best to straighten my hair. Pieces tangled against my fingers as I ran them through it.

Broadrick stopped beside me at the desk and moved a few pieces into place. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop jumping into fights?"

"A few more." I kissed him on the chin where Frasier's fist made contact. "By the way, someone broke the dishwasher at home. Probably NB."

He opened his mouth to say something, but movement in front of us caught his attention.

Anderson forced Frasier to stand, but rather than lead him out, he stopped to stare at me. "How did you put all this together?"

A snarl of hair untangled as I finger brushed it, and I shrugged. "Just good PI work."