"Come on, NB. It's time to go," I said and kicked off the covers, freeing my feet. "I need a connection at the morgue."

I wasn't a PI any longer, but if I ever had a chance of putting Melissa's murder behind me, I had to find out if it really was an accident. Strange things happened all the time. People died in crazy ways. They even made a television show about some of them, or so I'd heard.

If they had proof that Melissa died by accident, I'd put the entire thing to rest and move on with my life. I actually really needed her death to be an accident, but it just didn't make sense. Had I become one of those people who saw murders everywhere?

NB jumped off the bed, and I flipped the sheets again, sending cookie crumbs across the room. Broadrick wouldn't notice them on the floor, but he'd definitely have something to say if he saw them on the bed.

He had a whole thing about bed crumbs.

"We need something professional-looking," I said to NB as he resumed his spot on the sheets. He was never any help with clothes picking.

After a heated thirty minutes, I stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of black pants-for movement-and a light blue button-up shirt with a tank top underneath. Black boots finished the ensemble. These clothes seemed professional but also let me kick ass if needed.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

I grabbed my bag and hooked NB's leash to his collar. He had a thing about bones, so I needed a babysitter while I took my informational trip. Not Broadrick because then he'd ask too many questions. I didn't want to answer questions.

Who did I trust to watch NB?

Someone responsible.

With animal-preferably dog-experience.

I smiled as I closed our room door and led NB out into the hallway. "Let's go meet your new grandma."

NB raced ahead as we entered the first floor of the condo building where we'd found the dead body. I slowed my steps to stare at the closed condo door as we walked past. Why wasn't the place still flooded with cops processing the crime scene? Were they going to accept our offer on the condo? What would it be like to live there?

I'd have to buy better clothes.

Barbie answered her door on my second knock. I smiled extra-large as she opened it wider for me. "You just missed us for our mid-morning walk. Biscuit and I are settling in for our afternoon soaps now. We like a little snack before tuning in."

"That's perfect." I clapped my hands together once. She opened the door a little more, and I let NB lead us inside.

She raised an eyebrow at me. Her green eyes clashed with her red leopard-print house coat. Her jeans had a stretchy waist and looked damn comfortable. I almost asked her where she got them, but they were probably out of my price range.

NB and I did a quick lap of Barbie's living room-to make sure she was safe and stable enough to dog sit. It wasn't pink like I expected with the name Barbie and visions of Anessa's bakery in my head, but it passed the test. She had enough furniture to seat a small crowd with three oversized chairs, a full-length couch, and another love seat across from it, but somehow the big colorful rug tied the pieces together. The colors were loud with nothing matching, but somehow it all worked. Did she have a designer, or did rich people just know how to make a room cute?

"I love all your plants," I said, pointing at the row of foliage she had hanging in front of the main window. They all seemed healthy-unlike anything I tried to keep alive.

Barbie grinned. "Thanks. In our first year of marriage, my husband told me I had a black thumb. I've been proving him wrong ever since."

NB jumped on my leg as I laughed. Barbie had a level of petty I supported. "Do you mind letting NB hang out here for a while? He and Biscuit get along so well. I just have to run a quick errand. Super quick." I stuck my fingers together and held them up to show how quick.

She shook her head and made a slight groaning sound. "My soaps are on in an hour."

"NB loves to watch television." I waved my hands around. "He's really into dramas. We love to watch our shows together." That was not a lie. He'd spent every morning napping while I watched Forensic Files since we came to the island.

"I'll do it," she said and widened her eyes when I clapped in excitement. "On one condition."

"Anything," I said, maybe too soon. What could she possibly ask me to do? Nothing worse than anything I'd done for my friend Katy in Pelican Bay.

The left side of Barbie's lips tipped up higher, and my concern grew right along with her devilish smirk. "You have to watch Biscuit for me next month while I attend a stupid golf outing with my husband, Bert. Biscuit hates the golf carts, and I worry someone will run him over."

I clapped again. "Deal."

If I survived watching a demon cat for a mob boss without taking a bullet, I could handle an overly pampered terrier. How hard could it be?

"What kind of water does NB drink? I have mineral and sparkling, but if he has a certain preference, you'll have to bring it here," Barbie said like that was a logical question someone needed to know about my dog.

I tipped my head to the left. Then the right. She didn't laugh. Okay, then, so a real question. "Um... he's not real picky. Tap water is fine."

Barbie gasped and then covered her open mouth with her hand. "Do you know what is in tap water?"

My eye widened. What was in tap water? Fish? Worms? Toxins? "Tap?"

Barbie gave her head a gentle shake and cast her gaze toward the ceiling. "Any allergies?"

Shit. Did my dog have allergies? How would I know? These questions were way out of my league. "I don't think so."

"Vonnie, you are the only thing standing between NB and death. You must take his parenting seriously. This is almost neglect. Leave him here with Grandma Barbie and I'll take care of him," she said with another head shake.

I pursed my lips. Everything she'd said sounded like an insult, but I wasn't sure. I also really needed her to watch NB. Sometimes you had to pick your battles. "Let me give you my number in case you have any other questions, but I shouldn't be gone too long at all."

It was probably a lie. I had at least two hours on boat rides to get to and from the mainland. How did I let Broadrick strand me on this island? We needed a helicopter. I wondered if Ridge would let them expense one. And a pilot.

Barbie and I exchanged phone numbers, and I left NB with a giant kiss on his forehead before taking off toward the boat. Eventually, I'd have to learn the ferry schedule, but until then I'd wing it.

I did a speed walk to the dock, passing by two groups of people who watched me closely. "Nice to see you," I said with a smile and a quick wave. I didn't have time for someone to report me for suspicious behavior.

The large white ferry was tied up at the dock, and I showed my island ID badge before carefully stepping over the side and finding a seat in the back. We had ten minutes until launch. I wasted the time staring off into the horizon rather than fine-tuning my plan. Some plans were best left to figure out at the last minute.

I remembered my agreement with Broadrick regarding his "guidelines" and rule number three-no leaving the island without telling him-but waited until we'd pulled away from the dock before grabbing my phone from my pocket. That way, he couldn't try to tell me no or, worse, offer to come along with me.

The ferry cut through the water at a quick pace, but still we seemed to crawl toward the mainland of Florida. What in the hell did the rich people do on these rides?

I crossed my other leg and gave the boat a quick glance. Only one other person was on the boat-a man with the newspaper open in front of his face. Who still read newspapers? Why was the boat always empty? Did all the rich people have helicopters? How did I talk Ridge into buying a helicopter? Hell, where did someone buy a helicopter? If Ridge didn't hire a pilot for the helicopter, one of us had to get their pilot's license. That meant Broadrick.

Maybe I'd get him private flying lessons for Christmas. As a hint.

The man never lowered his paper, and I eventually grew bored enough that I sent Broadrick a text, letting him know of my escape from the island.

VONNIE: I'm leaving the island.

He didn't respond immediately, and deeper boredom set in quickly. I shifted my crossed legs and stared out into the open ocean. How many sharks were out there right now, just waiting for a human to fall into the water? Good thing dolphins didn't eat people. But what if they were super hungry? And the human was dead?

My phone buzzed, jarring me from my thoughts, as we neared the mainland dock and my phone signal picked up again.

BROADRICK: Where's NB?