I shrugged. "I suppose it's too much to ask for my boyfriend to make me a keycard to let me in all the buildings?"

"That would take all the fun out of the adventure." He laughed.

If I returned to my PI business-which I wasn't saying was going to happen-I'd have to buy disguises. I had so many ideas running through my head of how to get into the building without scaling the walls, but they didn't include being dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

There had to be a way inside the building.

I spotted a potential method in the distance, heading toward us, and tracked him with my gaze. "How long have the keycards been a thing?"

"Less than a week," Broadrick said, watching the same person continue toward the building.

I patted him on the shoulder and walked forward. "Thanks."

My shoes scuffed against the perfect sidewalk as I hurried my steps to beat the man to the building door.

"Oh, excuse me," I said to him as he drew closer. "I've got it for us." I reached in my back pocket and whipped my fingers out empty-handed before trying the other pocket. My short smile fell. "Oh, no."

"Did you lose your card?" he asked.

I checked each pocket again. "I must have left on my desk. Larken will be so upset if I have to go all the way back to the office." I batted at a few loose pieces of my blonde hair, making myself panicked. "I just stopped by for a quick visit, and now I'll be late. She hates that. I don't know what to do. This is such a mess."

My words broke, and I rubbed at the base of my eye.

"Larken the realtor," he asked, pulling a white piece of plastic about the size of a credit card from his pocket. "She lives on my floor. I can see you upstairs."

I released an enormous sigh and batted my eyes at him with a tilt of my head. "That would be so nice of you. Thank you. I can never repay you for saving me." Men loved to save women. They had a real complex about it.

"No problem," he said and swiped his card against the reader, holding the door open for me.

I turned back toward Broadrick and NB as I walked through the doorway. He stared at me with narrowed eyes and tight lips. It seemed he did not appreciate my methods of entry, but he couldn't deny that they worked.

The man-named Jason-and I rode the elevator together, discussing the recent spike in geese living outside the far side of the island. Apparently, they wanted to bring in someone to remove the geese so the rich people didn't have to see the poop. Jason seemed all for it, but I felt bad for the birds. They were just trying to live their little lives in comfort.

The elevator smelled like freshly picked roses. The smell was so strong by the time we hit the sixth floor, I'd started to question if they were pumping it in through the elevator vents. I discreetly covered the bottom of my nose with my hand. As the elevator stopped and the doors opened, I practically jumped out to get away from the odor, but it didn't dissipate in the hallway. Did the entire building smell this way?

I searched for Larken's condo and stopped in front of number 605, giving the door a slight knock. Jason walked past with a quick good-bye but hovered outside his door with his keys in the lock.

We smiled at one another, and I knocked again. No one answered.

"Larken?" I leaned closer to the door and called her name.

Jason's eyes were on me, and I didn't have a position to move where he wouldn't see if I tried the handle. I was sure she locked her door. This wasn't Pelican Bay anymore. People had shit they didn't want stolen and a genuine fear of random crime. "It doesn't seem like she's home."

"I guess not." I lowered my head and gave it a shake, using the time to search for anything outside her door. Like a hide-a-key.

Nothing.

To make matters worse, she didn't have a regular keyed lock but a large square black box with a number keyed entrance. Ugh. These rich people.

"If you want, I can tell her you stopped by," he said, leaving his keys in the door handle and walking toward me.

I took a step toward the elevator. "No. No. She doesn't need the stress."

"If you're sure."

I hit the down button on the elevator, and it opened immediately. "Definitely. Thanks so much for the help. Now she won't know I left her key lying around," I added a low chuckle and a quick wave as I jumped on the elevator.

It closed quickly, and I covered my nose against the roses smell as it descended toward the main floor. Broadrick met me outside on the sidewalk.

"You often flirt to gain access to buildings?" he asked me right away.

I pouted and rubbed the top of his arm. "Never, baby."

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"We should take NB back to the room and get something for dinner," I said to change the topic.

Broadrick nodded. "I'm ready to have that giant kitchen so we can eat at home again."

"Yeah, me too." As long as he was the one doing the cooking.

**

NB and Broadrick snored in unison on the bed as I snuck out of the bathroom, making the least amount of sound possible. The curtains were closed, blocking out all the light, but the sun had just begun to rise in the sky outside them.

I tiptoed toward the door and dug my shoes out from Broadrick's nice organizational job. One hand covered my mouth to stop my breathing from waking anyone.

"Big plans?" he asked.

I jumped and spun around to find him sitting up in bed, looking like he wasn't snoring just thirty seconds ago. "What in the hell, dude? Don't scare me like that."

"You didn't answer my question." He climbed out of bed, not disturbing NB as he moved his legs around him. I'd never managed to keep from upsetting the dog while getting out of bed if he was on my side.

They both annoyed me this early in the morning. I slipped on my shoes. "I'm going to see about playing some golf."

"Don't leave yet. I'm coming with you," he yelled from the half-open bathroom door. "So you don't steal another golf cart."

"I did not do that," I said. That was Barbie's idea and execution all the way. My response woke up NB, who saw me by the door and jumped off the bed. Great, now I'd have the whole family along for the ride.

It took Broadrick less than ten minutes to get ready, and we headed outside to an already hot Saturday. I swear the sun wanted to melt my face right off my bones.

Broadrick took our route straight for the clubhouse, but I held him back.

"They're not going to let NB on the course. We'll have to just enjoy the show from a distance." That sounded like a believable lie.

He tightened his grip on NB's leash and laughed. "Trust me. Neither of us expected you to grab a golf bag."

"Rude. I'd totally be an outstanding golfer." I didn't know the rules or how to play the game, but how hard could it be? Men were out here playing it every day. I'd just watch a YouTube video. "I wish I had a good place for iced coffee."

"What about the bakery?" Broadrick followed me behind a large pine tree off the first hole. Barbie told me yesterday that her husband and Harold had a golf game scheduled for this morning, but we'd missed their official start time by ten minutes. How many holes could you finish in that time?

I shook my head, scanning the course and darting us behind another cluster of trees. "Peggy isn't a personality you want to see so early in the morning."

The lack of excellent coffee was a tragedy. I'd have to find a new dealer soon if we were going to spend the rest of our lives here.

A burst of pine smell hit me as I brushed up against the ends of a tree, trying to get a better view of the golfers at the end of the patch of green. "There they are."

"Who?" Broadrick whispered back to me.

I shooshed him with my hand and leaned forward, getting a pine needle almost in my eye. "Harold and Bert."

"You think they killed Melissa?" he questioned right next to my ear.

Crap. I forgot he didn't know about this case. "Um. Maybe. Let's just watch and see what happens. You never know with these shifty rich people."

"Every time I think it can't get weirder," he said, mostly to himself. I zoned out on the rest of the sentence as I snapped photos of Harold's shots.

We followed the two men as they finished up the first hole and then halfway through the second. The sun beat down on the back of my neck and NB kept pulling on his leash, wanting to lie down between the trees. It probably gave him flashbacks to his life on the streets before I adopted him.

"How long are we planning to do this?" Broadrick asked as Harold tapped his white golf ball in the hole at the end of the second.

I dropped my shoulders. This golf shit was extremely boring. Who did this for fun? "We can go."

He followed me out of the line of trees. I'd have to buy more green clothing if these side trips became an ongoing thing. My T-shirt had a sticky patch on the shoulder and my fingertip stuck to it as I tried to wipe it away. Wonderful.

Three beeps emanated from Broadrick's cell phone, and we both paused. He answered it before the second set of beeps sounded.

A series of "Yeah, okay," "Are you sure," and "Shit" came next. He ended the call with a quick, "I'll be right there."

I did my best not to smile as he shoved the phone back into his pocket. "What's wrong? Did someone die?" Another dead body might help us figure out who killed the first. There'd be more clues to follow if this ended up being a knitting serial killer.

"There's going to be soon. I've got to stop by the office. Can you take NB home?" He tried to hand me the leash, but I refused.

"Hell no," I said and started toward the security offices. "I'm definitely coming along."