After leaving my mother's house, I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes so no one saw. If word got out that tough-as-nails Vonnie Vines was spotted crying, I'd never hear the end of it online.

My mother didn't hide her disgust at me becoming a private investigator-she much preferred I go into something like accounting-but to have her so easily and fully take my aunt's side hurt. Aunt Claire wasn't even blood relation. How did she pick an in-law over her own daughter? She never even let me tell my side of the story. I thought moms were required to have their kids' backs? Why did it seem like mine never did?

I gripped the steering wheel hard and started the car. My determination grew with each block I drove away from my parents' home. I'd find Emma's murderer, put another criminal behind bars, and clear my uncle's name...somehow. Maybe then my mother would see me as a capable adult. I'd show the whole damn family.

A stop sign came up too fast, and I slammed on the brakes to stop in time. How long had that been there? Another car crept up to the other stop sign, and I waved to let them go first while I spent the seconds thinking.

What if my mom was right to be mad at me about my uncle? It's possible someone coerce him. Even if Aunt Claire wanted me to drop it, I couldn't. Someone had to fix this.

Who hated Uncle Richard enough to frame him for drugs?

What if Emma's actual killer was the guy who forced my uncle to sell drugs? Yeah. That idea had merit.

What about Snowbird? Did he know my uncle? The mysterious criminal had messed with me in the past. Could he be fucking with other people in town, too? But why? To get at me?

No, Vonnie. Not everything is about you.

I had to fix this mess.

It was even more reason to find Emma's killer. If I figured out who killed her, I'd have the person who framed my uncle, and I'd find the evidence to get him out of jail. It all made sense. My uncle wasn't a drug lord. He wore knitted sweaters at the family Christmas party. Uncle Richard didn't have a criminal bone in his body. His biggest crime was not telling my aunt about her horrible cooking. The fact he ate it for so many years practically made him a saint.

I slapped the top of my steering wheel and pulled through the intersection. That's what I'd do. I'd find the actual killer and get my uncle out of jail. Then everyone would love me. I'd prove to all of them I was a good person and they were wrong about me being a PI.

At the corner of my street, my phone buzzed with a text. I flipped my wrist to read the text on my watch, but then remembered I didn't have the money to buy fancy things like watches with text messages.

RIDGE: Meet me in my office in thirty minutes.

I blew out an annoyed breath. The audacity of the men in this town drove me insane. What bothered me more? That Ridge demanded things and expected people to jump or that I was going to end up being one of those people who jumped?

I would not ask how high, though. Even I had my limits.

Why was he texting me, anyway? The entire thing smelled fishy. I didn't trust any of the former SEALs wandering around our town. They were always up to something. Normally, if Ridge wanted to talk to me, he just tracked me down and interrupted whatever I was doing at the time. I only put up with him because my friend Tabitha called him her husband. That and he was bigger than me. By a lot.

I pulled over and called Broadrick. He was the only person who might have an idea about the topic of this forced meeting and would consider telling me. The odds were still slim, but better than anyone else.

"What's up, babe?" he asked after a single ring. "You interested in lunch?"

I ignored the lunch thing, even as my stomach growled. "Why is your boss demanding an in-person office meeting with me?"

A quiet beat passed before he said, "No idea. Are you going to go?"

The beat turned into a pregnant pause as I tapped my thumb on the steering wheel. He was up to something. "No idea." I used his words against him.

I was definitely going to go, but he didn't need to learn that yet.

"You should consider going," Broadrick said.

See! The man played his hand too early.

My thumb tapping grew harder. "Maybe I will."

Let's see what he said to that!

"You should," he said, pausing for just a moment. "And, babe, give deep thought to what he says."

I slapped the steering wheel. He knew what Ridge wanted! I knew it!

You couldn't trust anyone in this town.

My lips smacked together. "You have no idea, huh?" The smells of freshly baked bread wafted through the vehicle. It helped to calm my nerves. So would the cupcake I stopped to grab on my way home. "I guess I better let you go so I can get to Ridge's office in time."

"Vonnie," Broadrick said, using his disappointed dad voice.

"Oh no, B. Don't worry about me. This isn't the first time I've been set up by Ridge and the SEALs in this town. It's only the first time a boyfriend has thrown me under the bus like this." My voice cracked.

I sucked in a breath. Okay, that was a little over the top. I needed to take a chill pill, but my emotions had been everywhere the last few days, and now it felt like the one person I thought I could trust-Broadrick-was leading me into a wasps' nest. It's not like Ridge Jefferson would call me to his office for a good reason.

"Vonnie, if you don't want to go, don't go. It's fine. Ask him to meet another day if you don't feel up to it."

I heard him and my brain recognized his attempt at being logical, but sadly, I couldn't respond in kind. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world. Talk to you later. If I survive."

I hung up and choked back another set of tears. What was wrong with me?

I needed that cupcake sooner rather than later. I almost turned toward the bakery, but any woman in that place would take one look at me and instantly see something was up. They'd been my friends for too long. I couldn't risk it. It felt like I had no one on my side, and I didn't want to risk them turning on me, too.

I was just about to say screw it and stop at the bakery when my phone rang again. I lifted it to my face, expecting Broadrick's name, but was met with a FaceTime request instead.

Ugh.

The number was unknown, but had a different area code.

Freaking A. Every single day it was something else, and quite frankly, I was sick of it.

I pulled the car to the side of the road and jerked my rearview mirror toward me to fix my hair. This was worse than a phone call. They wanted to see my face. Who FaceTimed people you didn't know?

"Vines Investigations," I said as my picture loaded.

On the other end of the call, a beautiful blonde woman with the deepest green eyes stared back at me. She had to be a supermodel or something because it wasn't normal to look so pretty. Did FaceTime have filters? Did anyone look like that in real life?

"Is this Vonnie? Vonnie Vines?" she asked, blinking twice at me. I hoped it was because her camera was out of focus and not that she found me to be a hot mess.

People didn't give hot messes money.

I pushed another piece of my hair behind my ear and smiled. "Speaking. What can I help you with?"

Please don't let her be a bill collector. Please don't let her be a bill collector.

"I think my fiancé is cheating," she said, and her voice cracked on the word cheating.

I released a breath. "Oh, good."

Her expression fell, her lips trembling.

"Oh, no." I raised my hand as if we were in the same room together. This is why texting was best. "I thought something horrible happened."

She sucked in a breath. "I think cheating is pretty horrible."

Shit, Vonnie. Get it together.

I turned up my frown and shook my head slightly. "It is. It is, but if that rat bastard has stepped out on you, I'll get the evidence and help you seek revenge." I had no idea how, but it was the least I could do for her. "What's his name?"

I probably should have asked her name first. Oops.

"Carl. But I swear he's never cheated before. He doesn't keep secrets. Tells me everything. Until last month, I trusted him."

Well, there was her first mistake. You shouldn't trust a male because as soon as you did, he'd tell you to attend a meeting with Ridge Jefferson. "Okay, tell me about the relationships. What changed?"

The woman shrugged. How was I going to ask her name now that we'd gotten so far into the conversation? "He's just been... weird. Taking phone calls and not telling me who they are. Two weeks ago, he took a call and went into the bedroom and closed the door. Now he's left on what he told me was a work trip to Machias, but I tracked his phone to your town."

Interesting.