"I don't think any of our sharks ate Emma." They were the friendly sharks... for sharks. There were three options of lotto tickets that cost only a dollar, and I scanned each one. Maybe I'd be better off with a Powerball quick pick?

He snorted and pressed his index finger on top of the counter. "That's what they want you to think, man. Don't fall for it."

"Okay, but just in case a shark isn't her killer." How did the shark use a needle to sew Emma's mouth shut? "Can I see Faith's hours?"

"No can do. That's against company policy."

I closed my eyes and took a slow breath. If I won the Powerball, I'd retire in luxury. "Do you remember seeing her on any nights the week of Emma's death?" The time of death estimates were fairly wide. Basically, a full four-day stretch. Anderson said they didn't want to give too much away, but I thought they didn't know.

"Oh yeah, she's worked every evening. Sometimes she gets Wednesday off, but normally she wants the hours. Says she needs the money because she's got a deadbeat baby daddy."

I tapped the Plexiglas on the closest lotto ticket and held up a single finger, showing I wanted to buy one.

"That's going to be a dollar and we only take cash for tickets," he said, pulling me one off the roll.

I pulled out the five-dollar bill I had in my pocket and handed it to him. "Does she ever talk about her baby here? Do you know who she used as a babysitter?"

He punched my order into the register and handed me back four ones along with my ticket. "No, we aren't friends or anything. Since she's on nights, I barely see her most days. I do my best to stay out of the way. I'm here to work, not make friends."

That was a pity. I grabbed a nickel from the Take a Penny dish and scratched the front of my ticket off.

"You don't have to scratch them, you know? I can just scan it with the computer," he said, watching me stay in the boxes as I scratched away with my nickel.

I glanced up at him but kept scratching. "What's the fun in that?"

The first box unveiled a seven. I scratched harder for the second box, revealing another seven. My heart rate kicked up a notch, and I rubbed the nickel faster on the third box. If I had another seven, I'd win something worth celebrating.

I uncovered the first quarter of the box and smiled. Nothing but white space, which meant I had to have a seven. The last few swipes of my nickel took off the remaining coating, and I blew out a frustrated breath.

Seven, seven, and one.

Darn it. There went my early retirement plans.

"A dud." I pushed the ticket toward him to throw away and left one of my business cards on the counter next to it. "If you think of anything else or Faith makes a confession, call me."

"You want another ticket?" he asked, but I'd already turned away from the counter.

I raised my hand in the air as I reached the exit. "No, thanks."

A cloud of humid air hit me as I walked outside, and I fixed a frown on my face so Broadrick didn't think we'd finished our fight.

"How'd it go?" he asked with a big smile as I set NB on my lap after buckling my seatbelt.

I stared straight ahead. "Fine."

"Did you catch the killer?" He backed out of the parking space and headed toward the city.

"No. Wouldn't I be happier if I'd caught the killer? Where's Anderson?"

NB took up his spot at the window, painting us a masterpiece again, and I tilted my head to make out what he created. It had a Jackson Pollock feel to the design.

"Okay, then. Did you give Florida anymore thought while you were in there?"

I whipped my head in his direction, my face belying ten different emotions at the same time. "No, I didn't think about Florida while checking an alibi."

What did he think? That I just went around contemplating Florida, beaches, and whales all day long?

"We'll only go for two days. You can use it like a quick vacation and enjoy some beach time while I work in the office," he said as we drove past the high school on Main Street.

"Broadrick," I said, pressing my hand against his dash. "I'm busy."

"A vacation will be good." He turned onto our street. "You're stressed."

I threw my hands in the air, upsetting NB, who had to readjust by sinking his claws into the tops of my thighs. "Of course I'm stressed! Have you seen my life?"

Anger reddened my cheeks and quickened my heart until my chest hurt. What the hell did people think I did all day? Nap? I'd been juggling cases since January and doing my damn best to stay on top of everything. I'd finally hit the point where it seemed like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders, and it was slowly pushing me into the ground, one problem at a time.

"Let me help you with something," he said.

But it wasn't enough. These weren't problems Broadrick could solve. They were my mess, and I had to take care of it.

"It's not that easy. Everyone hates me. My mother won't take my calls, and my aunt blames me for my uncle being in jail." Which was one hundred percent my fault. I turned over the evidence to Anderson. I should have asked him about it first. Given him a heads up or something.

Broadrick shut off his truck in our driveway, and I opened the door, helping NB out of the tall cab. His short little legs had trouble doing it on his own. I marched into the house with both boys following me. NB bounded along beside me, sniffing things as he walked past to make sure nothing had changed since we left. He hadn't picked up on the atmosphere of hostility wafting off me.

I kept my shoes on and walked straight to the kitchen, opened the freezer door, and searched through the various boxes, looking for one in particular. I found it shoved along the back where I'd last left it. My eyes closed as I tipped the box, waiting for a pint of ice cream to fall into my hand.

Nothing hit my open palm.

"What the hell?" I tipped the box further and gave it a shake.

Nothing.

"What are you looking for?" Broadrick asked as NB's nails clicked on the kitchen floor beside him.

I pulled the empty box of fish sticks from the freezer and held it in front of me as I turned toward him. "Did you eat my Ben and Jerry's?"

His eyes widened. "I thought it was old. You had it shoved way to the back."

My chest hurt in disbelief.. I shook my head as my eyes widened and closed the freezer door with my free hand. "How could you?"

That was my emotional support ice cream. I saved it for extreme situations when I needed a sugar hit to help me relax. Times like exactly right now.

"I'm going to the bakery." I dropped the box on top of the trash as I walked out of the kitchen. "Alone."

NB and Broadrick watched me walk out without another word, but I didn't miss the way Broadrick tilted his head toward the dog and gave him a "she's nuts" glance. A fresh breeze came in off the ocean, and I breathed it in as I turned onto Main Street with my sights set on the bakery.

The walk wasn't long, but it gave me time to take in the nice day and calm down while I dreamed of the chocolate cupcakes waiting for me. I hated yelling at Broadrick-even if he ate my snack-but he didn't understand the weight of everything on my shoulders. I had people counting on me. Now wasn't the time to take a vacation and forget my problems.

When I hit the bakery less than ten minutes later, I kept my sights on the counter and ordered a chocolate cupcake from Anessa.

She eyed me with trepidation but grabbed the cupcake for me and handed it over the counter to my waiting hands. "On the house."

"Thanks." I grabbed the four dollars left over from the lotto tickets and dropped it in the tip jar.

Anessa shook her head at the action. "Man trouble?"

I grunted and sat at the table beside Pearl, next to the side window. "Yes, and case trouble."

Pearl pretended to be enthralled by her cup of tea, using her spoon to gently stir the liquid. Her braided gray hair hung over her shoulder against her bright pink track suit. It matched the over pinkness of the bakery. We all realized Pearl was listening, but Pearl knew everything in town anyway, so she'd hear it eventually.

"What's up?" Anessa asked as she returned to wiping down the counters by the register. "Do we need to beat anyone up?"

I appreciated the offer, even if I wouldn't take her up on it. This time. "No," I said with a smile and a headshake.

Pearl dished out a particular brand of advice, and I didn't want to hear her tell me I'd ruined my family by putting my uncle in jail. Eventually, I'd end up screaming if she gave me a lecture. Since anything about my uncle was off topic, and I refused to hash out relationship drama in the bakery where the other SEALs might hear, I only had one option.

"I'm following this cheating fiancé. He's staying here in town, and I tracked him for a meetup. Rather than see a lover, he met up with a group of people on the beach. Tony said it's an orgy, but I didn't get that vibe."

Pearl snorted. Her teaspoon clinked against the side of her cup. "Antonio needs to get his head out of the gutter. It wasn't an orgy."

I leaned forward, my cupcake half unwrapped. "How do you know?"