NB tugged on his leash to get my attention, and I walked a few steps ahead, letting them smell the next bush. My brain continued putting clues to the puzzle together, but I didn't want to believe it. Aunt Claire collected country ducks and did diamond puzzles. She wasn't out in the world sewing lips shut on dead bodies.

Was she?

The world spun on its axis, and I grew a little dizzy. NB kept a solid tension on his leash, which helped keep me moving forward. As long as they had things to pee on, none of the dogs seemed to mind our slow progress or my complete mental breakdown.

The parts all fit and weirdly made sense.

Aunt Claire grew up with a mother on drugs. She understood that environment. Did she keep any of the connections? How deep in the lifestyle was the teenage Claire? That wasn't enough, though. You couldn't use someone's past against them.

Most of my evidence was circumstantial, and I wanted to make sure I wasn't projecting the hard feelings I had for my relative into getting her convicted of murder. The family would never heal if I messed up. My uncle wanted to confess to save Claire the stress and money of a trial, but was that the only reason? How many times did he say it was all for Claire? Was he trying to give me clues to the real mastermind?

Was he taking all the blame to keep her out of trouble, too? I had to get home and Google how many husband-and-wife criminal couples there were in history. Did I have Bonnie and Clyde relatives? Were they just out killing people?

But why kill Emma to shut her up if my uncle planned to confess? Unless the gruesome details of her murder were to send a message to their crew, like Frankie said. My heart skipped a beat and then picked up in double time. My aunt had a criminal crew? For half a second, pride filled my chest, but it didn't last long.

If they were running the drug gang in Pelican Bay, they'd tried to have me run off the road earlier today. It was too timely to be a coincidence.

If it wasn't Snowbird, it had to be Claire.

Wait. I came to a stop again, and NB tugged on his leash with annoyance. "Give me a minute."

I had to stand still to use this much red yarn on my mental suspect board. There were a lot of pieces to connect. How did my mother know the gun in my trunk was a murder weapon? Because my aunt told her. Was it speculation? Because if not, the only person who knew I had an actual murder weapon was the person who used it to kill someone. Otherwise, it was just a random gun in my trunk. Concerning, but honestly not the worst thing I'd driven around with in my car.

While both weren't great, the differences between a random gun and a murder weapon gun were the size of the Grand Canyon. And jail. I couldn't grasp the diabolicalness.

Why become best friends with my mother right now? Was it to keep her too busy to put the pieces together herself? To keep me distracted? To break up the family so we were fighting among ourselves rather than rallying around my uncle?

"Double hell."

This all started because of my aunt. She'd asked me to follow my uncle. If not for her pushing, I wouldn't have had the evidence to put him behind bars. I went to the places she suggested at the times she said. She pleaded with me to keep following him when I wanted to quit.

I ran through the memories of the last few days and then further back. More pieces clicked together on my mind puzzle. I had mental red yarn zigzagging back and forth in my brain.

More than once over the last few months, I'd asked how someone learned my moves right after I made them. There was the red glove I lost in the woods after being kidnapped. It showed up at the office I'd barely moved into. Then they sent a dead bird to a house I'd just rented.

I couldn't figure out how criminals got that information so quickly. But my aunt and uncle knew. My mother would have spread the good news before the ink dried on both rental agreements. She had a reputation for telling everyone about your accomplishments before you got the chance. It wouldn't even be out of character for her.

My stomach rolled. How did I miss it? Oh right, no one wants to believe their aunt and uncle are major drug lords in their small town. But all the pieces were right there, staring me in the face the entire time.

The last piece clicked into place, and my eyes widened. I ground my teeth together at the impossibility of it.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Everything lined up in a nice row.

Right down to the stupid name. I stopped walking to bend over and take a breath.

Snowbird.

It wasn't only a reference to the drugs they sold but their motivations. That winter home in Florida and my aunt's chance to become a snowbird. It was crazy, laughable, and insane. Perfect for this small town.

Damn it, Vonnie. How were you so stupid?

Uncle Richard was set up... by his wife.

She got rid of her husband and me in one giant diabolical maneuver.

And I'd played right into her hand perfectly.

But how did I prove it? No way did she leave prints on the gun before putting it in my trunk. How did she even get in? I slapped my forehead. Probably with the spare set of car keys my dad made me keep at in his garage for emergencies. He had a cabinet full of hooks and every key in the county. The only piece of non-circumstantial evidence was the needle used to sew Emma's lips shut. The one missing from my mother's package. I had to find it and connect it to the crime to make it stick.

I had to get that needle. It was my only chance at real evidence.

"Come on, guys. Time to head back." I yanked on the leashes while turning and set off at a jog toward home.

I was huffing and puffing by the end of the block. The June heat and humidity clung to my skin. I had to do better at keeping up on my workouts. With the dogs in one hand, I opened the front door and let them run in while trying to unhook their leashes as we walked.

Once free, they ran to the kitchen and hit up the water bowl to rehydrate for more bush watering before bed.

My mother expected my aunt for craft night soon, but I wanted to talk to Claire again. Alone.

Mostly alone.

Contrary to what Ridge and Broadrick believed, I had learned some important lessons over the last few months. I wouldn't walk into a suspected drug lord's home alone, even if she was my aunt. If I got her talking, maybe I'd find a reason for Anderson to get an arrest warrant. My plan was shaky, ill-formed, and not complete. I'd figure it out once I got there.

On my phone, my finger hovered over Broadrick's number, but his words from earlier still hurt. If he wanted to stick me on the island to keep me safe, he definitely wouldn't want me putting my aunt in jail next to my uncle.

I needed someone else as backup.

Only one other number in my phone had enough reckless genes to go along with my crazy plan.

Tony Baloney.

He was also recently single, so I knew he had free time.

"It's time to return the favor," I said as soon as he finished his hello.

Tony grunted. "I'm pretty sure I'm still up in the favor department."

Why was he always keeping track? Best friends didn't keep count.

History said Tony would say yes. I just had to talk him into it, but I really didn't have time to finagle Tony's compliance. "I need backup."

"Princess, your life requires backup."

I grinned. That was Tony's way of agreeing to my plans. I gave him my aunt and uncle's address.

"When do you need me there?" he asked.