I just can’t help but think that something is missing.

Why them? Why steal my files? If the files hadn’t been stolen, with Daniel’s still floating around somewhere in the universe, it would be much simpler.

What the hell is my connection to these murders? Aside from the obvious, which is far too obvious to even be a possibility.

I open the door to my building and walk into Grecia’s office. It’s empty, so I put her croissant and coffee on her desk before heading into Dean’s office down the hall. He takes his coffee with a kiss to my cheek and a promise to do the next Gigi’s run for free. Bingo.

“Oh, hey,” I say to Marsh, walking into his office and handing him his espresso. “Rosie needs a little help a few evenings a week running deliveries and helping her sort stock since Daniel died. I told her you might step in for a couple weeks until she can find someone to replace him.”

“Sure,” Marsh replies without looking up from his computer. His fingers are flying across the keyboard, his eyes flicking back and forth behind his glasses. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Are you playing World of Warcraft again?”

“No, boss. I think I could be close to recovering the Santiago file.”

I blink. “Oh. Well. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks.”

I shoot one last glance at him before pulling his door closed some. The kid is some kind of technological genius, I swear. I can just about work my cell phone—there’s no way I can search for files in the netherworld of the Internet.

“Breakfast.” I drop Bek’s pastry and coffee on her desk in front of her.

She looks up from the file she’s reading and wipes fake drool from the corner of her mouth. “You went to Rosie’s? You’re the best boss ever.”

I laugh. “So you say. I was coerced into buying them when my brother and Detective Nash showed up.”

She narrows her eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Let me give Mike his coffee.” I put my drink and pastry on her desk, too, and back out. Mike’s door is partially open, and as I approach, I hear a high-pitched giggle.

“Wouldn’t go in there,” Marsh warns, glancing up at me through the gap in his door.

“Why?” I turn and frown at him.

“Actually, you probably should. And remind them that I can see it.”

Can see what?

I pause for just a second. Then I knock twice on Mike’s door before pushing it open.

Holy shit.

My mouth goes dry as I take in the scene before me. Grecia. Sitting on his lap. Kissing. Quite feverishly if her hair is any indication.

She gasps and jumps up, frantically reaching up to smooth her hair out, and Mike stands, straightening out his shirt collar.

“Explain. Now,” I demand, staring at them both. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks,” Grecia mumbles.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Most workplaces don’t allow it,” Mike reasons. “We thought you might be…the same.”

I put his coffee down and rub my temples. Why did I never make this policy a thing? “Okay. One, if I were like that, you’d both be fired right now. Two, y’all hidin’ this shit is not okay, especially not when you’re makin’ out like a couple of teenagers on my damn time. I pay you to do your jobs, not get each other excited. Not to mention Marshall can see this on the security cameras.”

Blood rushes to Grecia’s face, and she covers her mouth with her hand. I guess she forgot that little gem.

Something niggles at the back of my mind, and I narrow my eyes. “I knew you were lying about your alibis. You were together the night Lena was killed, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mike mutters.

I run my hand through my hair. “Okay. I cannot deal with this right now. Mike, your coffee is there. Grecia.” I look at her. “Yours is on your desk with a pastry. I want you in that room for the rest of the day unless it’s absolutely necessary to leave. And absolutely no more fucking make-out sessions when you’re at work. Y’all do what the hell you want at home, but not here. Keep it separate. And if I ever, ever find out you’re breakin’ my rule, you’re both fired. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mike repeats.

“Yes, ma’am,” Grecia echoes.

I look at Grecia pointedly and point at the door. “Downstairs.”

When she’s gone, I turn to Mike. To his credit, he looks fully ashamed.

“Noelle—”

“Now, don’t be givin’ me your excuses, Mike. I ain’t interested. What I am interested in is you recreating the last few days of Daniel Westwood’s life. Turns out Rosie sent him to deliver Lena’s salad the night she died and never saw him again. Find out who the very last person to see him was. Keep your mouth busy talkin’ instead of kissin’.” I glance at his mouth, which is smeared with a little lipstick. “Just make sure you wash your face before you leave your office. You look like you got in a fight with a makeup counter.”

He nods and rubs at his lips. I turn on my heel and stalk toward Bekah’s office, stopping at Marshall’s and telling him to keep an eye on those two. He agrees with a grunt. At least, I’m assuming he’s agreeing.

He better actually be looking for that file and not playing his dumb video game or I will cover his office in pretty potted plants.

“Did you know that Grecia and Mike were bumping uglies?” I ask Bek, closing her door.

“Fuck off!” She claps her hand over her mouth. “I mean. No.”

I fight my laughter. “Yeah. I just walked in on them kissing in his office.”

“No!”

“Yep.”

“What did you do?”

“Tore them new assholes and told them that, if they make out at work again, they’re fired.” I shrug and sit down. “Marshall is on perve-duty.”

Bekah laughs. “Right. Oh, wait! Were you right about them lying about their alibis?”

I grimace and nod. “It’s a shame my spidey-senses didn’t pick up on their secret relationship. More to the point, how did they keep it secret?”

“Yeah. Everyone knows everything here. It’s already halfway around town that Detective Nash had dinner at your parents’ last night and drove you home. I dropped by the store before work and was cornered, like, six times and questioned.” She rolls her eyes.

“Wait, what?” I frown. Quick enough, realization sinks in. “Oh my God. Does everyone think we’re dating?”

“Nonna’s going into the station and yelling about Italian cops and his going for dinner look kinda suspect.”

“I cannot catch a break, can I?” I sigh heavily and tear off a piece of my pastry. I chew it angrily, thinking about my nonna and her meddling ways.

Great—let’s add some romantic rumors into the mess that is my life right now. That’s what I need.

“And you know Nonna will hear those rumors and not consider where they started,” Bek continues.

“Oh God,” I moan, sinking down in my seat. “I’m debating my mental health at the time I decided to come back to this damn town.”

She grins. “Look on the bright side. Drake isn’t in here, yelling at you for obviously beating him to the punch in the investigation.”

“Yet.” I point another torn bit of bacon-and-cheese goodness at her. “Let’s not jump the gun on that one.”

My best friend laughs. “Why were you at Rosie’s, by the way?”

Oh, of course. The real point of my being in her office. I tell her everything we learned last night at dinner and what I found out this morning at the café. Obviously, that ends that part of our conversation. Because there pretty much is no more information about anything at all that means we can make sense of what we found out.

“Why didn’t we know that Daniel was working for Rosie?” Bek muses, twisting her lips to one side in a thoughtful pout. “Wouldn’t it have come up on the background check you had Marsh do?”

“I don’t think it was anything official.” I get up and walk to her window. Her office looks out over the trees behind the building and onto the park behind it. “I think he just helped her out a few nights a week and she gave him some cash at the end of each evening.”