Grace's POV

Monday morning, the two detectives arrived at the office without warning. I looked up from my computer to find them standing at my desk, Detective Morrison with that neutral expression cops seemed to perfect, Detective Elliott scanning the office, taking in every detail.

"Ms. Wilson," Morrison said. "We need to speak with Mr. Sinclair."

My stomach dropped. "Do you have an appointment?"

"We don't need one." Morrison's tone wasn't hostile, just matter-of-fact. "This is an official ...