“Noelle,” Brody groans. “The attitude, sis.”

“Is exactly what she needs,” Sheriff Bates answers, entering the room right after him. “Brody, shut the door.”

He does it, and the sheriff continues.

“Last night, Mayor McDougall called Noelle into his office in her personal hours and proposed that she work with the homicide department in solving Natalie Owens’s probable murder. It’s not a secret that he’s not happy with the majority of our female officers, and in his eyes, Noelle’s advantage is that she isn’t a cop. Now, this goes without saying that it’s confidential information.” He scans us all. “Holly Woods will know in five minutes what the good Ms. Bond is up to, but they won’t know who hired her, and that, gentlemen, gives us a total advantage. Now, some of y’all have personal ties with her.” He stares harshly at Trent and Brody, and his gaze lingers for a moment too long on Drake, “But under no circumstances will that come between y’all and y’all’s duty to your town.”

“She’s my damn sister!” Trent spits. “If there’s a gun on her and it’s her or the shooter, you seriously expect me to ignore that?”

“Three weeks ago, I had one pulled on me when I was all alone and I dealt with it perfectly fine, thank you,” I remind him. “I’m not a goddamn princess, Trent. I’m the best detective this department has and I’m not even fucking employed by it.”

“Not by my choice.” Sheriff smirks. “And yes, Trent. Brody, too. I expect you to focus on apprehending a suspect, not saving your sister. Y’all know she’s more than capable of saving herself. The only—and I stress, only—time that’s acceptable is if she’s unarmed and her life is in total danger.”

“Whoa now,” I reply, raising my eyebrows and putting my hands on my hips. I give no fucks about my diva status. “Would you say that if I were in possession of a penis, Sheriff? ’Cause if not, retract it, and I’ll take the bullet like your guys do.”

“You were so born with the wrong genitals,” Brody mutters.

I punch him.

“Noelle.” Sheriff draws my attention back to him. “Yes, ma’am, I would. If your colleague is unarmed and you can protect them, you do, even if it’s at the cost of your suspect. None of y’all signed up to be a martyr when you went through your training. And as a cop, you know that.”

“I’m not a cop,” I remind him through gritted teeth.

“But you were.” His eyes spark. “And you’re as good as any I’ve got in this building. So let’s be done with our new addition courtesy of the mayor and get on with our briefing. Any objections?”

Drake grunts his agreement, the expression on his face identical to Trent’s.

Thunderous.

I can practically feel the anger vibrating off him. He’s like a ticking time bomb, and I swear that, if anyone so much as breathes in his direction, he’ll bite their head off.

I knew this was a bad idea.

Brody pats my thigh twice and gives me a regretful smile. Hey, what can I do though, right? I’m here now. I’m being trusted by both the mayor and the sheriff—and my youngest brother. And, honestly, does it matter that Drake and Trent aren’t impressed?

As long as Nonna doesn’t get wind of this tonight at the rescheduled family dinner, not at all.

She’ll implant a new pair of ovaries into my pelvis when she discovers this.

“Two days ago, Natalie Owens came in with stalking concerns. She expressed that she was forced to file a report before Noelle would work on it.” Sheriff Bates scribbles on the whiteboard and draws a line under it. “Yesterday morning, she calls Noelle with concerns about being broken in to. In turn, Noelle calls Devin Bond, the detective in control of Natalie’s case, and informs him of it due to the shocked nature of the victim.” More scribbles and another line. “Forensics have, so far, delivered no clues as to who the would-be burglar or stalker is.” Another line. “That’s at approximately eight a.m. Just over seven hours later, Natalie Owens is found dead in a hotel room at the Oleander.”

My toes curl inside my shoes, and I refuse to meet Drake’s eyes as he looks at me.

“In those few hours, Natalie Owens had an important appointment which stopped her from staying inside her house and keeping herself safe. Natalie Owens willingly went to the Oleander and met someone who, at the very least, had sexual relations with her before she was killed. We don’t need Tim’s report to know that she was murdered. What we also know is that her murderer was someone she trusted enough to surrender her body to him. She knew her killer. She knew the risks, and if our assumptions are correct of her being a member of D.O.M., she had a contract with the killer.” Sheriff looks at Brody. “Take Detective Johnston and the warrant on your desk to the club. I want every contract and member file they have on record.”

Brody nods.

“Detective Bond,” he addresses Trent, “you and Detective Harper and Detective Brown are tasked to finding out what Natalie did between the hours of nine a.m., when Detective Devin Bond’s team left her house, until she was discovered by Madison McDougall at approximately three thirty p.m.”

Oh no.

“Y’all can leave,” Sheriff Bates tells them, zeroing in on me and Drake.

Everyone shuffles out, Trent shooting me a dark look as he does.

“And Detective Nash,” Sheriff Bates says once the door has clicked shut. “You and Ms. Bond will cover everything else.” He glances at me. “Madison is at home now following her admission to hospital for severe shock last night. Interview her and get an understandable statement from her. Then track down Natalie’s ex-boyfriend. If he was her stalker, I want his ass in an interview room within forty-eight hours.”

“Understood,” Drake says tightly.

“I have her file with me,” I add quietly. “We should be able to find Nick now and conduct necessary interviews.”

“Noelle.”

I focus on the sheriff instead of the window. “Yes, sir?”

“Within my building, you keep to legal boundaries. In your own, whatever y’all do is your business. I want this case solved.”

What I don’t know won’t hurt me, he means.

“Absolutely, sir. I’m sure Mayor McDougall told you I refused his offer of an office in the department for the duration of the investigation.”

“Yes, he did.” He smiles slowly. “He told me many other things, too, and all I have to say is your father will be proud when I tell him.”

I shrug. “I’m no pushover. I think he found that out.”

“Don’t tell me you pissed off the mayor,” Drake growls, turning in his seat and staring at me. “That’s the last thing we need.”

“Of course I pissed off the mayor. I had a conversation with him.”

“Well, that explains a fuckin’ lot.”

“Enough.” Sheriff Bates steps forward. “I trust y’all to work together despite your personal relationship, whatever that may be this morning. A girl has been killed, and that far outweighs your personal issues. Work that out outside of my building. Now, get into Nash’s office and work out your plan, y’all.”

“Let’s go,” Drake says shortly, standing so quickly that his chair clatters to the floor behind him. His hard steps echo against the tiled floor as he storms his way to the door, and his bicep flexes when he grasps the handles and slams it open.

The knock of the knob against the wall is startling in his loudness, and as he stalks his way through the doorframe, I turn to the aging man before me.

“I sure hope y’all have soundproof walls, because it’s about to go down.”

“Well, you’re your mother’s daughter and your nonna’s granddaughter.” He shrugs.

I grin, grab my purse, and walk past Drake. Then I snake my way through the tables and down the stairs until I reach his floor. His office door is partially open, and I shove it open the way he did the briefing room’s.

“Don’t even,” Drake growls, his fists on his desk, leaning forward. His eyes could slice diamond.