“Ah, Detective Nash, Ms. Bond,” Sheriff Bates greets us. “Nice of you to join us.”

“I was dealing with Nonna.” I grimace.

His eyes twinkle. “Thank you for your sacrifice,” he jokes. “Ms. Bond, I understand you and Ms. Shearer have met previously.” He turns to Drake. “Detective Nash, this is—”

“We’ve met,” Drake replies curtly.

A sly grin spreads across Jessica’s face, and she gets up, smoothing her skirt across her thighs as she approaches him. Then she reaches up and kisses his cheek. “Hello, darling. How are you?”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Jess.” Drake’s voice is still hard as he rubs her kiss from his cheek. “I’m well. And you?”

“Far better for learning I’ll be liaising with you on this unfortunate matter.” Her smile is far too bright for someone referring to an “unfortunate matter.”

Trent’s eyes are now warning me to shut up. Brody looks like he’s ready to see me hit her.

I’m hovering somewhere in the middle.

“Well, that’s easier for everyone,” Sheriff Bates interrupts optimistically. “Let’s all take a seat so we can get to work.”

“Move,” Drake hisses, nudging me in the back.

I resist the urge to knock his hand away from me. Hello, darling? Hello, fucking darling?

“Later,” Trent warns me on a whisper. “Work,” he reminds me.

I nod and sit down, all too aware of Jessica staring at both Drake and me. Behave, Noelle. Like Trent said, you’re at work. You can hit her at recess.

Wait. I think that rule only applies in kindergarten. That’s a shame.

Ugh. What is wrong with me?

“…so whoever was in the room with Vince Fulton yesterday evening was breaking the rules about practicing erotic asphyxiation within the boundaries of the club. This has led Mr. Lawrence to close the club for three days at extreme cost to himself, as he’s unwilling for another accident to happen, in his words.” Sheriff Bates pauses, glancing over all of us. “The connection Vince has to Natalie is undeniable. Given the latest findings”—he nods to me with a grateful smile—“I’m going to throw out the hypothesis that Vince was murdered by Natalie’s killer because of information he possessed. With this in mind, we’re offering her ex-boyfriend extra protection, and while the rest of us are here piecing things together and searching their houses, Ms. Bond, I’d like you to use your charm on Mr. Lucas and see what Vince might have known that could get him killed.”

Brody snorts when he says “charm.”

“Of course,” I agree. “He took a shine to Bek when I saw him last. I’ll take her because my charm is on vacation today.”

Drake breathes in deeply.

Sheriff Bates half smiles. “Ms. Bond, if you have to date the man for a week for that information, you can do what you like. As long as it’s legal.” If you’re in my building, is what he doesn’t say.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” I fight my smirk as Trent snorts. “Y’all gettin’ a cold? Should I get some tissue?” I say to my brothers.

“Let’s move,” Sheriff Bates says before we can waste our time bantering.

I stand and hook my purse over my shoulder.

“Drake,” Jessica says, darting past the mayor as he goes to talk to the sheriff. “I’d really appreciate if we could talk so I’m up to date on every detail and can adequately control the damage this is doing to the mayor’s campaign. Many people think Madison was involved, as she was the one who found her.”

“Sure. Two people have been murdered, but let’s focus on images, shall we?”

“Noelle,” Drake warns. “I can’t talk to you right now, Jess. As Noelle just pointed out, two people have been murdered. It’s my job to find out who did it, not release to you every detail of my case.”

Spin my words, then. I don’t mind.

“Are you sure you can’t spare a minute?” Her bottom lip protrudes slightly.

“Brody can help you,” he offers. “Trent can, too. Ask either of them, but it won’t be today.”

“I’m sure the mayor would prefer my discussion to be with the lead detective.”

“Fine.” He turns to me. “Noelle, are you free?”

“Today? No. I have an elusive ex to find and his behind to charm,” I reply.

“Funny,” Jessica replies. “I was talking about you.”

“I know exactly who you were talkin’ about, and I said no, I’m busy. My whole team is busy. If you can’t work with the information you have right now, then you’re gonna have to wait and explain to the mayor that our priority is solving this case. Now, if you’ll excuse us…” He touches my upper back and guides—see: pushes—me toward the door. He walks through it, holding it open without looking back.

I do though. I throw a glance over my shoulder, and Jessica is looking at me like she’d like to spear me through the belly button with her heel.

I’d offer the same look, but my shoes cost too much.

The tension in Drake is obvious by the way he’s stomping down the stairs, his shoulders drawn back tight. He slams the door at the bottom of the staircase open, and it moves so fast that I have to wait a moment before grabbing it. His office door is open by the time I get there, and I hesitate before walking in.

I have a bad feeling about all of this.

“Drake?”

“Fuckin’ unreal,” he spits, kicking his chair out of his way. It spins and knocks into the wall. “Yet so fuckin’ typical.”

“Who is she?” The words tumble out of me. “She’s hated me since the moment she laid eyes on me, and now, it makes sense. You know her. She knows you. And now, I want to know who she is to you.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, and when he turns to me, his eyes are full of resignation. They’re angry and fiery, but they’re dull, too.

“Jessica,” he grinds out through a clamped jaw, “is my ex-fiancée.”

There’s a stab. Right in my chest. Right in my heart.

“Your…ex-fiancée.” I lick my lips. “Right.”

Oh my God, I can’t breathe.

“I think I need to go.” I spin on my toes and walk through his door.

“Noelle—”

I shake my head and keep walking, ignoring that stab in my heart, ignoring the twist of my stomach, of that fucking empty feeling hollowing its way through my body. I breathe in the fresh air as I open the glass front doors and turn instantly to the parking lot.

I knew it would never be simple.

We could never be easy.

I don’t know what’s more fucked—this murder investigation or us.

“Noelle.”

“No,” I tell him, opening my door. “I need to process this. Like…shit, Drake. Shit.” I get in and shut the door, starting the engine.

Shit.

His ex-fucking-fiancée.

I drive straight past Bek’s house and onto the road that’ll take me to Nick’s tattoo studio.

I don’t know why I’m so bothered. Because he never mentioned her? Because she’s so obnoxious? And hot. God, why are the exes never butt ugly?

I mean, it shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like we’ve ever sat down to hash out our relationship history with other people. He’s never asked. I’ve never asked. Hell, it’s not even like our relationship is that kind of serious. It’s not any kind of anything.

It’s just kind of…kinda.

God, two people have died and I’m here bitching to myself about his keeping something from me. But what if she hadn’t have turned up in town? Would he have ever told me? Would we have ever been something?

Would we? No—I mean, will we? Do I? I don’t even know.

Oh my God.

This is so fucking messed up.

Every time. Every damn time we get somewhere, something screws it up. One of us loses our shit or storms off.

Why am I so incapable of being an adult in a relationship? Will it really kill me if he’s been in a relationship so serious that he wanted to marry her?

“Argh!” I punch my steering wheel, braking into a parking spot outside the studio.