Tony asked his question by raising his eyebrows at me.

"The ferry just left dock on the mainland. Larken could be on her way back at this point. Unless she really needed the client and waited longer." I didn't want to risk it. Getting caught in Larken's house meant breaking and entering charges with Florida police. The thought of being thrown into a Florida jail actually made me miss Anderson.

He turned around to leave the closet. "We better lock up then."

"Wait!" I stopped him in his tracks as I spotted something interesting in the corner of Larken's closet. Hanging from the end of a circle belt holder, she had a black silk scarf. I pulled it free and rubbed the fabric between my fingers.

Tony watched me. "A scarf?"

"It's an expensive scarf and reminds me of the one in Melissa's hands the day she died." It wasn't an exact match, but if Larken had a habit of wearing scarves, maybe Melissa tore it from her before dying? This might be a big clue. I scanned the closet but didn't see another one.

Since I couldn't steal anything-unfortunately-I snapped a picture of the scarf and left it there. Tony led the way from her condo as I thought about my options.

"Larken has to be the murderer, Tony," I said once we were safely outside her apartment. The hallway was empty, but we still hurried to the elevator to make an escape.

He tapped the bottom button as the elevator doors closed. "She's looking guilty, alright."

The elevator stopped on the third floor and an older gentleman with a much younger woman hanging off his harm walked on. They giggled to one another, and the cute blonde whispered something into his ear while staring at Tony. I stepped in front of him.

"But how do I prove she's the killer?" I asked.

Both the newcomers froze. The giggling blonde twisted her head toward me, and the man looked at us both with distrust in his gaze. They stepped off as soon as the elevator doors opened on the first floor and scampered away like I'd suggested they were next on the hit list.

Tony plopped his sunglasses on his nose while checking his phone as we walked into the sunny day. "That one is on you, princess. Broadrick is looking for you."

Oh, Broadrick. I'd forgotten about him and Dalton's rules for a few minutes. Bringing Tony along as I broke one of the main ones probably wasn't my best idea.

"If he asks, we were hitting your bucket of balls at the driving range," I said before turning toward the resort.

Tony laughed. "Yeah, sure, princess. I'm not talking about my balls and you around Broadrick."

"He's not like that, Tony." Probably. Broadrick got along with Tony enough to know we were just friends.

He shook his head at me like I was some poor woman who had no idea. "Sure. Tell him I said hi. I'm off to check out the view."

He cut off on the opposite side of the sidewalk, away from the resort, headed toward the beach. Something told me "the view" was bikinis rather than the beach waves.

I sent Broadrick a quick text letting him know I'd headed home, even if I'd be back before he saw it. We'd have the afternoon to spend together before I had to meet the girls for Stitch and Bitch tonight. The twice weekly meetup had quickly become my favorite thing about the island.

**

"I'll be back to pick you up in about an hour," Broadrick said the next morning as he finished with NB's walk. He dropped his leash on our shoe pile. The image reminded me of Larken's closet from yesterday.

There had been no more progress on anything with the murder case for the rest of the day. I'd spent the rest of yesterday with Broadrick until the Stitch and Bitch. He didn't make a handy sidekick for any of my plans since they broke all of his and Dalton's island rules.

I'd been itching to tell the girls and Harvard about my theory on Larken, but I didn't. They were friends with Larken. Well, she'd at least bought things from the store in the past. I didn't know where the loyalties were. If I told them about Larken and they gave her a heads up, she might skip town, and then I'd never catch my killer.

I rolled over in bed and stuck my feet out of the sheets. "Can I meet you there?"

"At the condo?" he asked, searching my face for any clues to my nefarious plans.

These men always suspected me of things. I mean, they had good reason, but they didn't have to be so obvious about it. "Yes, I need to talk to Barbie, so I'll stop by her place before the inspection."

Broadrick and Larken fast-tracked our ability to move into the condo by paying the seller rent, but we still had to have an inspection done before we moved anything into the space. Hopefully, our closing wasn't hindered when I ultimately had Larken thrown into jail for murder.

That was probably going to tick Broadrick off a little, but he'd get over it.

"Why are you putting out guilty vibes?" he asked, hesitating at the door.

I gave him my shocked face. "I am not."

"You are. Just spill it so I can get to the building in time to let Cary in."

NB jumped on the bed as I slipped out of it and headed toward the bathroom. "Give that poor girl a key and calm down. I'm not up to anything. I'm just thinking."

"You thinking is one of the things that worries me," he said, inches from the bathroom.

I jumped from the surprise and slapped my hand on my chest. "Don't sneak up on a girl."

"Please, just tell me so I don't have to spend the next hour worried. I promise I won't stop it unless it's really stupid."

My gaze met his in the mirror as I propped myself on the fake marble countertop of the bathroom sink. "You're so nosy. I was just thinking about how upset you'll be when I put our realtor away for murder."

He groaned and rubbed his hand over his forehead. "Why do you think Larken killed someone?"

"Not just someone. Melissa. Obviously." I outlined the evidence I had against her as he nodded along. "See? Murderer."

"That's a pretty big long shot, Von." He gave NB two pets on the head as he walked back toward the door. "If you're going to interrogate her, do it at the inspection, so I'm there in case anything happens."

"That was always the plan," I yelled after him and shut the bathroom door to get ready to visit Barbie.

He had such little faith in me. I'd learned my lesson about interrogating would-be killers without a SEAL there to save the day.

Thirty minutes later, Barbie inched the door open on my third knock and peeked through. "Vonnie, we've got hours until the morning walk."

"I actually came to speak with Bert. Is he here?" I asked with a smile.

She checked for NB, but I'd left him in the room. We didn't want him peeing on anything just yet. Barbie opened the door further to let me into her condo. "He's in his morning meeting."

"Oh." I guess I figured Bert was retired, but maybe he had to keep working to make the mortgage payment.

Barbie laughed, pushing her hair off her shoulder. "Every morning, he has a forty-five-minute meeting in the bathroom. I'll tell him to hurry it up."

She moved down the hall, yelling at him to button it up because he had a visitor. I made my way to the kitchen, standing beside the island and pretending like I hadn't heard their entire discussion and the toilet flush.

"Vonnie, you should have let me know you were coming," Bert said as he joined me in the kitchen two minutes later.

My cheeks pinkened. "Next time I will text ahead." If I ever got over the trauma of this visit. "My news is really important, and I didn't think you'd want to wait. I found out how Harold is cheating at golf."

"You did!" Bert slapped his hands together and brightened. He leaned over the kitchen island, waiting.

"It's not what you expected." My lips slipped into a frown. I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned to the selfie of me and Blue. "He's been taking lessons for the last six months at the clubhouse with a man named Blue." We'd have to dissect that name later, but now wasn't the time.

I flipped the phone for Bert to see the image. He grabbed it from my hand. "What? He told me he didn't have time for lessons because the new girlfriend, Stacy, kept him busy between the sheets."

Eww. That created a whole slew of visuals I didn't want in my brain. "Thankfully, I didn't witness anything sheet-related, but I saw Blue helping him with his swing."

Barbie snuck a glance at the picture and shook her head. "Well, you've gotten your answer, Bert. He's just better than you. Now pay the poor girl for all her work."

Bert scoffed. "It's still cheating if he refuses to admit he's doing it. Don't you agree?"

"It's an interesting thought for sure. I don't know why he'd lie about it if he wasn't ashamed," I said. I always sucked up when money was involved.

Bert pulled a wallet out of his back pocket, selected a stack of bills and handed them to me across the island. "This should cover it."

"Are you sure?" I asked, staring at the bills. It had to be way more than what he said.

Barbie waved her hand at him. "See, it's not enough. Give the girl some more. You don't want a reputation as a cheapskate."

"Fine, fine," he said and gave me another two hundred-dollar bills.

I took the money. "This is really fine. More than we said."

"You're worth every penny," Barbie said, laying her hand on my shoulder. "Now I don't have to hear him talk about Harold nonstop."

I laughed and shoved the money in my pocket. I'd count it once I left, but it had to be over two thousand dollars.

My phone rang, and Bert hurried to pass it back to me. "Will you send me the pictures?"

"Of course." I checked the phone and swiped to hang up on Broadrick. "Don't worry. I'll send them to Barbie, but I've got to go. I'm late for an important meeting next door."

How did I end up late to something happening just a few feet away?

I hurried with my good-byes and left the two arguing in their kitchen before slipping into the condo next door-the one I'd soon call home.

A series of loud beeps blasted from the living room as I opened the door and, on instinct, I ducked to avoid whatever they were alerting.

"Vonnie!" Broadrick yelled my name from somewhere deeper in the room.