“Excuse me for pointing out the obvious, sir, but safety is exactly why this investigation will take as long as it needs to.”

“There are things about her you wouldn’t like. Many things are best left undiscovered, Ms. Bond.”

I meet his eyes and hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary. I’m not sure why he thinks he can intimidate me or that I’ll roll over and beg for a belly rub like every other woman he works with, but he should probably try not to be a sexist bastard if he wants me to cooperate.

As it is, we have a verbally binding contract that will be on camera, and as soon as I start investigating, all bets are off.

I close his office door behind me, grab the takeout cartons from Ellis with a smile, and press the elevator button.

As little investigation as possible, indeed.

I pick a little watermelon seed out of the chunk and pop the delicious piece of fruit in my mouth. Not one part of me wants to stroll into that police station right now and be all, “Hi. I’m in your investigation. Surprise!”

I didn’t even call my brothers last night to tell them. It sounds simple, but I know how pissed they all got when I ended up being involved in Lena’s murder. Never mind that Natalie Owens is a client of mine—again. Something only Drake knows.

It’s why I have her case file with me. One more thing for them to have. As it is, though, it doesn’t matter. When I dropped my contract off this morning, Ellis informed me that the mayor has informed Sheriff Bates that I’m to have full access to all police departments and findings and I must pay them the same courtesy.

I don’t think the mayor has any idea what he’s doing.

I don’t want to be thrown into the middle of a murder investigation again. I don’t want to deal with this bullshit for the second time in almost as many months. I want to live my quiet little life with cheating couples and lost dogs and suspicious-acting teens.

I don’t want to have the safety of people placed in my hands.

The day I quit the Dallas PD is still too raw. It’s still too real even though it happened a couple of years ago. I can still remember the call I made, every gun shot, every cuss word as the engine started outside and the plain, white truck, still full of children, was driven away.

I can have a gun in my hands. I can shoot before I think. But I can’t protect people. I learned that on that day.

I’m too naïve and selfish.

No.

I was naïve. I’m probably still selfish. But I’m not naïve anymore. I’ve learned from my past decisions, and I’ve made better choices since.

Unless you count every single decision with Drake, but somehow, I don’t.

My window is knocked on three times, and when I turn, I see Devin’s face in it. He turns his finger for me to wind it down, so I hit the button.

“What are you doing here?”

I breathe out, more a sigh than anything, and end up blowing a spit-less raspberry. “Because I literally cannot be bothered to explain right now: Guess who the mayor hired last night?”

Dev stares at me for a second before his lips form a grin and a huge belly laugh erupts from him. My lips thin as he continues laughing like he’s two years old and watching Sesame Street or something.

“Are you done? Because guess who doesn’t know the mayor hired me?”

“Fuck off,” he shoots at me, still laughing. “Oh shit, sis. They’re gonna go nuts.”

“Yeah. Which is why I’m sitting in my car and not going in there.”

“Can I come watch when you tell them?”

“I’m sorry. Are you a newly-engaged thirty year old man, or a fourteen year old boy waiting for next week’s edition of Playboy?”

“Noelle, I don’t give a shit how old I am. This is gonna be fuckin’ gold. Wait—when you say they, do you mean Drake, too?”

Reluctantly, I nod.

Dev laughs again. “Let’s go.” He opens my car door. “This is too awesome to pass up.”

I groan and take my purse from the passenger’s seat. They’re literally going to kill me, aren’t they? They’re sure as hell gonna tear me a new vagina after I reveal my purpose for being here.

God, it’s gonna be like the high school football team welcoming the little geeky girl as their quarterback, isn’t it?

I drop my keys into my purse and wriggle my toes in the end of my Louboutins. They’re my absolute favorite shoes—mostly because their sleek, shiny blackness and blinding redness on the sole make me feel powerful. They’re a look-the-hell-at-me kinda shoe.

Maybe not so much with ripped jeans and a tank top, but whatever.

Dev wraps his arm around my shoulder and briefly squeezes me into his side. I give him a wan smile, because honestly, I feel sick. I wish I were already in there, that this whole thing were over and done with. I know that Drake, Trent, and Brody will have expected me to call, but I was afraid to.

I was so fucking scared to call them and tell them that their investigative team was being expanded to me.

Jesus, Noelle. You’re not a teenager stepping into a science project. You’re Noelle fucking Bond, and if they have a problem with that, they can bend and kiss your ass.

But Drake.

This could ruin everything.

What is everything though?

What do we really have except for a ridiculous attraction and a history of apparently hilarious and explosive arguments?

What if something is waiting in the wings and the mayor’s hiring me is the villain in our tentative love story?

What if we’re the modern-day Romeo and Juliet—without the whole dying thing, but only destined to be together in another life where everything is simpler?

“Dev.” I grab his arm and swallow right outside the building. “I can’t do this. I can’t storm in here and step in alongside them like I deserve it.”

“You do.” The door opens, and Brody steps through.

I turn to my baby brother, taking a deep breath. He knocks his fist into my cheek with the barest touch.

“Yeah, I heard. Drake and Trent don’t know. But Noelle—you do deserve this. You know as well as I do that you deserve to be sitting in that fucking meeting room with the best of the best. You know that you should be one of the best detectives Holly Woods has ever seen, and you are. You just don’t have the badge. Don’t taint your present with your past. Now, get your ass into that fucking briefing room before we grab you and drag you in there.”

“Brody wins the ‘inspirational speech of the year’ award!” Dev announces.

“How about you go fuck a chicken, you cocky bastard?”

“Ignoring that you’re referring to my fiancée as a chicken, at least I have something at home to fuck that isn’t my right hand.”

“I’m left-handed, douchebag.”

“Fine—I can fuck something that isn’t my hand… Or bed slats.”

“One fuckin’ time, man. I saw it on YouTube.”

“Why were you even watching bed slat porn?”

“Oh my God!” I snap, storming past them both into the main reception. “You slimy, antagonistic, sneaky little shits!”

They laugh and high-five as I storm down the hallway. Ignoring Charlotte’s greeting, I take the single flight of stairs upstairs to the briefing room. I slam the door open, and instantly, Drake and Trent turn to me, as do the three other officers sitting in the room, who I recognize as Detectives Brown, Harper, and Johnston.

All men.

Fucking men.

What is this town’s issue with powerful women?

Drake stands, Trent echoing his movement.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” my brother asks.

I smile sweetly and hold my hands out to my sides. “Hi. I’m your new work buddy. Isn’t it fucking wonderful?”

“What?” Drake growls, his eyes focused entirely on me and pulling at my gaze despite my best effort to look anywhere other than at him.

“Oh, yeah. Didn’t you get the memo? The mayor hired me last night to work with y’all to find Natalie’s killer, so surprise!”