He had his standard police badge wrapped around his neck with a long cord. His tan trench coat was open, making sure everyone saw his credentials. I considered it overkill.

"I said the same thing after looking at it a while," Broadrick said. "But I think in this case it's better to check it out. You'd hate for it to be blood, and you missed it."

What a way to save himself in the end. I smiled at Broadrick and pursed my lips when I moved my attention to Anderson. He kept his gaze on the floor, weighing his options.

"Just have one of your guys do a quick test to see if it's blood. They can run it in house." Hell, if I had a bottle of hydrogen peroxide handy and less concern about contaminating evidence, I'd do it myself. "Even if it wasn't Faith, they live in the same complex. Emma would wash clothes here, too."

It's likely someone got the jump on her in the laundry room and tossed the diaper bag in the park by the apartments as they made a getaway.

"I can't decide if I love or hate when you talk logically," Anderson said, giving the red smear one more glance along with a shake of his head. "No, I hate it."

"Regardless, it's better to be safe than sorry," I said, hoping the nudge pushed him over the edge.

"I agree." He stuck his hands in his tan trench coat and retrieved his cell phone. "I'll have the boys give it a swipe test, but I don't want you here when they arrive."

He typed something on the phone, completely missing my annoyed expression.

I worked to really deepen my brow furrow in preparation for when he glanced in my direction again. "Why not?"

Did he want to steal all the glory of finding the piece of evidence that would lock away Emma's killer? I'd already solved multiple murders for him, so it's not like people wouldn't expect it.

"Because if you're here, I have to log it in the paperwork, which means someone is going to ask why. And I just don't have the patience to figure out whose apartment you were breaking into tonight." He said it as one long run-on exacerbated sentence.

Men.

"Whatever. We didn't break into anywhere." We only peeked. It's a vast difference that these guys completely forgot about every time. "Keep me posted on what the test says."

"Please," Broadrick added for me as we walked out together. "You should try being nice to Anderson. It might work in your favor."

I snorted. "He'd think I had the flu or some incurable disease."

Anderson and I had a method for our relationship. It worked for us. Mostly.

**

I hadn't heard from Anderson by the next morning, even though the blood test should have taken less than ten minutes. To me, his lack of communication meant Broadrick and I had found blood. I couldn't handle the entire case for him, so I left him to figure out who left the blood smear in the laundry room on his own.

Even though doing so was killing me.

K.i.l.l.i.n.g. M.e.

Hopefully, once he picked up Faith for Emma's murder, the paper would mention how I'd been the one to find the clue that broke the case wide open. If not, I'd have to email and let them know. Proper journalism was important.

"This is ridiculous, NB," I said to the dog as I pulled out a half-used tray of watercolors from a mandatory art class in college.

I had one box left to unpack before I claimed the spare bedroom as my new office. Unfortunately, it was a box full of random junk. I'd avoided it at all costs, but now I needed to sort through the crap and move on in life. Once I had the room clean, I'd set up a temporary space until I found a new place to call my office. Rent wasn't cheap, and I needed to find somewhere nice so my clients got the right impression about my services. That they were expensive.

I shoved the palette of watercolors into the top shelf of the closet and dusted off my hands. One item down. Only five gazillion to go.

Without an office space to lumber around and think in, I hadn't been able to solve any cases-not the murder or the cheating fiancé. Carl was still hanging out with family in town. Katy had eyes on him for me, but I needed to talk with him pronto. Having an office would have made the process easier.

The front door opened as I recovered a used notebook from my Psychology 101 class. Three index cards with areas of the brain written on one side fell out. I flipped them over to check my skills. Good thing I didn't become a psychologist.

"Vonnie!" Broadrick yelled from the front of the house.

I tossed the flashcards in the closet and stood up. "In here."

He walked into the room wearing his standard pair of jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt that had Navy written in bold letters across the front. I swear, it was the military's brand of Juicy sweatpants. "What's up?"

"Unpacking. This is the last box." He'd once challenged me to have the house unpacked by the time he returned from deployment, and I almost made it. Kind of. I grabbed an extra power cord for my old laptop from the box and chucked it in the trash.

Broadrick followed the trajectory and retrieved the cord from the trash. "You can't get rid of this."

"B, the laptop is long gone." I returned to the box for the next item.

He wrapped the cord around his hand. "You never know. I'll stick it in my box."

I tossed a reusable shopping bag from the student union into the closet and dusted off my hands again. It took a hip placed against the door, but I closed the closet, hiding the evidence. "There. All unpacked."

Sure, most of the items had found their home in the spare room closet, but they weren't in the box anymore. Mission accomplished.

"Congratulations," Broadrick said and leaned into the hallway. "I've got you a celebration gift."

"Exciting," I said and held my hands out. I loved gifts as long as they didn't include more work.

From the hallway, he pulled a bright green rubber tote with holes on all sides and held it out to me from the matching handles. "It's a beach bag."

My eyes narrowed, and I stepped away from the bag. "Why do I need a new beach bag?"

Broadrick stretched his smile. "I thought you could use it while we visit the beach in Florida tomorrow."

I threw my hands in the air as far as they'd reach. "Tomorrow?"

Had he lost his mind? I couldn't go to Florida tomorrow. They'd probably break the news about catching Emma's killer tomorrow. I had to be here for the photo shoot.

"Think of it, Von. The beach, seagulls, sand. Dolphins. We can sit under one of those enormous umbrellas. I'll buy you a coconut drink."

"I don't want a coconut drink," I said and crossed my arms. But I did. Everyone always wanted a coconut drink. "You can't just go planning vacations for me, Broadrick. I have things to do here."

He wiggled the bag at me. "Give it two days. We'll pop down for a quick visit, get some sunshine, and then be home before you miss anything important."

"It's not that simple, B. Who will watch NB?" We had responsibilities. I moved the candle I unpacked earlier to the other side of the tiny IKEA desk. It looked better on that side.

He set the plastic tote on the desk. "Katy said she'd love to play babysitter for him. Something about a new outfit they needed to test out."

I groaned. She was always dressing my dog up like a weirdo. He obviously wasn't going to give up on this until I agreed. I couldn't have him running around Florida looking hot alone. I had to go. To keep an eye on him. "We'll do these two days, and after you'll leave me alone about it?"

"Yes," he answered quickly.

The candle looked like trash on that side of the desk, so I moved it back to the other. "Fine."

If he really wanted to whisk me off to Florida for a relaxing few days, I'd try my best. Honestly, a quick trip didn't sound that horrible. Maybe I needed a break, a chance to get away from the drama constantly happening in Pelican Bay.

If Anderson confirmed the red smear from yesterday as blood, it would take a few days for the other tests to determine if it belonged to Emma. I could go without too much fear of missing something good.

"We'll make it home in time for Vivi's graduation party?" It was on Saturday, and I promised her I wouldn't miss it for the world. I only had one sister, and she only had one graduation open house.

"Absolutely," Broadrick promised. "We wouldn't miss her big day."

"Okay, I'm going to meet with a client, and I'll come back and pack." I let a small smile pop up. Florida might not be too bad after all. "I guess."

I didn't have an office to have Carl meet me, so I had to find somewhere else private. Since he was already familiar with the beach, and Ridge's video equipment didn't pick up audio close to the water, I leaned in that direction. Because I believed in always having backup, I brought NB with me on his long leash. He loved a good beach walk.

Carl was already there, pacing back and forth on the water's edge as I walked onto the beach.

My stomach twisted as I approached. I hadn't had time to figure out what I wanted to say. Delicate matters weren't always my strong suit. NB pulled me forward, ready to splash his paws in the water. Really, I think the dog just enjoyed getting messy, which is exactly what he'd accomplish once he walked through the sand with wet paws. And now we didn't have a dog groomer on standby, so I'd have to bathe him.

I waited until we were within three feet of Carl before saying anything. "Carl?"

He spun toward me. "Yeah."

"I'm the person Katy sent to meet with you." Having a best friend who ran the bed-and-breakfast came in handy. Katy caught up with Carl in the dining room and told him someone had information regarding his new family. She said he'd been hesitant but finally agreed to come.

NB ran at the man and stopped, sniffing his feet in his flip-flops. I mentally crossed my fingers he didn't start peeing.

"I'm not sure what you have to tell me about the Clines." He turned back toward the water and stared into the distance.

Waves covered my toes as NB frolicked in the water. I stopped by the man, also turning toward the horizon. I once read a book that said men liked to stare out at things while they talked, so I pretended like the ocean held all the answers right along with him. "Look, I'm breaking all the rules here, but this isn't about the Clines. It's about Kylee and your future family."

Carl jerked his head at me. "What do you know about Kylee?"

"That she loves you. Obviously," I said as NB tried to take a bite out of a wave, and I smiled. What he lacked in smarts, he made up in adorableness. "Kylee has been hurt in her past, so when you ran off without telling her, what do you think she suspected?"

Carl thought and then hit the bottom of his palm against his forehead. "That's not what this is."

"I know, but she doesn't." A bigger wave rushed up against us, splashing me up to my knees. My capri pants grew wet, turning a darker shade of blue.

Carl jumped back in time to miss it. "I just didn't want her to hear about my past until I understood what to expect. She wouldn't understand. Her parents are perfect. The entire family is wonderful. Like the Cleavers."

"Who?" NB pulled on the leash, and I had to hold my ground, so he didn't go too far in the water.

Carl shook his head. "Never mind."

"Just talk to her. Tell her why you're here. Maybe introduce her to the new family. You never know what might happen."

He squinted out at the water. "You think so?"

"Yup." And he'd better do it too because I'd already told her to expect a phone call from Carl soon. It was the best thing I came up with when she called, looking for an update. "Just tell her the truth."