Katy said something but far away from the microphone so I couldn't make it out. Then I heard static a second before a male voice came on the line.

"Why could you possibly need to speak with me?" Pierce asked.

Broadrick lifted his eyebrow and returned to his truck with the box, depositing it in the backseat again.

"Pierce, my good friend, I need to use the office in the Kensington building for a few more days. They're selling my building."

"They're selling your dump of an office building?" he asked, sounding interested but probably not for my welfare. He'd have an offer on the place before the listing hit the internet.

Katy's harsh, "No!" Cut through the quiet, proving she was still listening for good gossip.

"Yes, and they've canceled all our leases. I have nowhere to go."

"Sorry, Vonnie. We gave the room back to the janitor. They need the space for storage."

I turned and gently hit my head against the brick wall of the building. It still hurt. "Pierce, I'm screwed."

Something crinkled over the line, and I pulled the phone from my ear before Katy's voice came through again. "They're selling your building?"

"Yeah, right out from under me. What am I going to do?"

Katy clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Give me a few days. I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," I said, my voice cracking on the word before I disconnected the call.

Broadrick took the phone from my hands. "Come on. Let's get you an iced coffee."

"And a cupcake," I said, following him back to his truck.

**

"You sit on the couch and drink your coffee," Broadrick said, patting a spot on the far end of my sofa twenty minutes after learning I no longer had an office. "I'll get your new office all set up at the kitchen table."

I plopped on the couch with a sigh of frustration. NB jumped up next to me and sniffed my straw as I sucked iced coffee into my mouth. "I get what you're doing."

Broadrick set my laptop on the kitchen table and plugged in the cord. "What's that?"

"Trying to make me feel better." I stuck the straw in my mouth quickly as NB's tongue stretched out toward it.

The tall SEAL laughed as he opened the laptop and typed on the keys. "Is it working?"

Was it?

I took another healthy suck of my iced coffee, letting the sugar and other good stuff race through my veins. NB whimpered and nudged the takeaway cup with his nose.

"Yes," I said, giving NB a careful push away. His little brown and white body wiggled with excitement.

Broadrick closed the laptop cover. "Good."

It wasn't good, though. Nothing was. It might never be again. And that wasn't just me being dramatic. Yes, it was mostly dramatics, but every hissy fit had a little truth in the mix.

"I need an office, B. Where else will I do my important stuff?" Where would I keep my secret files? My scrapbook? "I can't bring clients here."

We lived here. I didn't want clients knowing where I lived.

NB lunged at my arm, scratching me with one of his nails. "Sit down, NB. You can't have coffee."

He glared at me and jumped off the couch. At least now I could finish my coffee in peace.

"You'll figure something out, Vonnie. You always do."

I tossed my head back on the couch, messing my hair up on the cushion. Ugh, why did Broadrick have to be logical and supportive? Couldn't I have the boyfriend who wallowed in self-pity with me? I kicked my feet up on the large round ottoman my best friend Katy had left here when she moved in with Pierce. Katy would wallow with me if I asked her. That's what best friends were for.

I sucked on my ice coffee, finding nothing but ice at the bottom of my cup. "This is my karma."

"It's not karma," Broadrick said, sitting on the other side of the couch and patting his thigh until NB jumped up for scratches behind his ears. I bet if NB asked him to wallow, he would.

Also, he was wrong.

"It is karma. I deserve all the bad things." I'd put my only uncle in jail. With all the evidence I collected on him and the drug selling, he'd end up in prison. For a very long time. Years. He'd probably die there. The entire family would have to attend a prison funeral.

I'd called my mother every day since it happened-something I never did before-and she refused to take my calls. My repeated voice messages went unanswered even though my sister promised the cell phones were in working order.

"It's not karma," Broadrick said.

He didn't understand. Broadrick went around saving the world or some shit for the US government. He had good karma stacked up in his favor. He could probably steal candy from a baby and still be on the good meter. The man didn't live in the karma slums with the regular folks.

Right as I'd gotten to the good part of my pity spiral-the part where I demanded ice cream for dinner-my phone rang.

"Seriously?" I questioned the phone as I grabbed it from my pocket. "Why are people always calling me?"

Didn't they know about the life-changing invention of text?

Broadrick gave NB a kiss on the top of his head. "It's probably a new client."

"No, it's my divorce lawyer." I let it ring again, making sure I didn't misread Janet Day's name. Why in the world would she be calling me? Hopefully, she had another dead client or at least some juicy gossip. Something helpful.

Broadrick grabbed NB's paw and held it up. "Excuse us?"

"Shhhh." I answered the phone with the best hello possible. It wasn't my finest work. Janet and I met when we shared a client back in January-a client who ended up dead on her kitchen floor. She had no reason to call me now.

"Vonnie, I need an investigator for a particular case, and I thought of you. Do you have time to pick up a little work this week?" Something about the way Janet emphasized particular set the hairs on the back of my neck straight up.

But I wasn't in the position to turn down money. How bad could it be?

"Sure," I answered with a little more pep. If she paid enough, I'd use the cash to buy something fun. Like ice cream for dinner. "What do you need?"

A hush fell over the phone, and Broadrick leaned over, pretending like he was checking NB's back leg. I saw the move for what it was, though. Trying to poach my gossip.

"I'd rather talk in person if that's okay with you. This case is delicate in nature."

I crinkled my nose. Talking in person was worse than talking on the phone. That meant I had to get off the couch and wear pants. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, this one requires discretion."

Interesting.

"Don't they all?" Also, hopefully, her idea of discretion meant I got to do some sneaking around. That always made a bad day better. "Want to meet at our favorite diner?"

My first meeting with Janet happened at the Clearwater diner. She also knew half the staff there, so it wasn't a stretch to call the place her favorite. I'd never been to her real office. She might not even have one.

Janet chuckled. "Yes, I have time soon. Let's get started as quickly as possible."

We worked out a date and time, and as we hung up, I scratched the information on a random napkin on the coffee table. The lack of branding meant it was probably from our favorite Chinese place.

"Big plans?" Broadrick asked with a raised eyebrow.

I narrowed my eyes toward him. "Why are you home all the time?"

It seemed like every time I turned my head, there was Broadrick. He was always all up in my office space, chilling on my now office couch. Granted, he was hot, which made it easy on the eyes, but didn't he have things to do? Worlds to save or something. Bombs to disarm?

He shrugged. "No official job. Remember?"

I snorted with a headshake. Government employees. "Then the least you should do is help me with stuff."

NB scooted off the couch and walked into the kitchen. The clatter of his food bowl being scraped across the tile floor clued us in to his desires. I ignored them.

Broadrick laughed. "You want help. Like unpacking the last two boxes you're hiding in your closet?"

"Ugh." I jumped off the couch like his words set it on fire. "Stay away from my boxes. They're full of super important stuff."

Those boxes had stuff in them. Important stuff. Stuff I had no idea what in the hell to do with, but I knew I had to keep them. I'd find a place for them, eventually. Somewhere. I just needed a little more time.

"Relax, Vonnie," he said as I paced in front of him with my hands in the air. "Everything will be okay. Your mother can't stay mad at you forever."

I stretched my arms up higher. And how did he know that's what had me upset? Plus, it wasn't the only thing. I'd done a lot of thinking on my uncle's case and come to the only realistic possibility.

Someone forced him to commit the crimes.

My uncle was too nice to be selling drugs. It didn't make sense, but who hated him enough to force him to a life of crime? "Stop being logical."

My mother was Sylvia Vines. That meant I liked to throw a hissy fit every once in a while. I couldn't help it. It was a family trait. She taught me well, and I was definitely in my hissy fit era.

Being around calm and sensible Broadrick wasn't helping my mental well-being. I needed someone who understood mothers and daughters. And crime. And men.

"I need the girls. I'll be back later," I said after I'd already grabbed my black leather coat from the hook and my car keys from the little bowl under the hooks.