Author: Jill Shalvis

“And the leaving?”

“Were you supposed to stay here just to make him happy?” she asked.

“There was no making him happy.”

Ali’s fingers massaged his skull, melting his bones. He’d just had her, and he wanted her again.

“You seem pretty fond of blaming yourself for everyone and everything,” Ali said. “Wonder why that is? You don’t want to be happy?”

“Happy?” Unsure how they’d gone from post-orgasmic glow to this, he shook his head. “There’s not much to be happy about, and I’d have thought that you’d know that better than anyone.”

Ali cocked her head and studied him with what he was certain was more than a dash of pity. “You think I should be unhappy?” she asked.

Even as he sensed a trap, he opened his big, fat, stupid mouth. “Aren’t you?”

She went still a beat and then pulled back. “Why? Because someone I thought I could trust walked out on me with nothing more than a text? Because I think my boss is going to close the flower shop and I’ll lose my job? Because I’ve been falsely accused of a crime that people in town actually believe I committed?” She gave him a little push that actually wasn’t so little. “I’m not defined by someone I thought I was dating, Luke, or what I do for a living. I’m not defined by what people think of me. My happiness comes from within, and I—”

Oh shit. Her voice broke.

She shook her head and pointed at him. “And here’s the thing.”

Oh, good. Thank God. There was a thing. He listened, desperate to get past this without her tears.

“I know I might look like a ball of fluff,” she said, “but I’m not. Not even close. And the fact that I get up each morning and put a damn smile on my face is the same as…Batman putting on his cape.”

“I—”

“I’m not done. It’s…protection. It’s my shield. It’s me waving my middle finger to the world, because I choose to be happy. The bottom line, Luke, is that I know what matters and what doesn’t.” She gave him a look that would have wilted the plant on the kitchen island if she hadn’t been taking such good care of it. “And I’d think that you would know that better than anyone.”

With his own words thrown back at him, mocking him, she turned and headed for the door.

He sighed. “Ali…”

But she was gone.

Luke was woken the next morning by a call from Sawyer. “The video is in,” he said. “We found nothing, but it’s all yours if you want it.”

Luke did want it. He rolled out of bed, and twenty minutes later he was on his way. He made a pit stop at the beauty salon. A brunette in her early twenties was opening the shop. “Melissa’s first appointment isn’t until noon,” she said when he asked. “I don’t expect her for a few hours.”

“I’ll come back,” Luke said. “But out of curiosity, have any of you done a blue manicure with white stars lately?”

“Actually,” she said. “Melissa—”

“Is right here…”

Luke turned to find Melissa standing there.

“You’re looking for a manicure,” Melissa said with a broad smile. “A blue one at that. Wow. I so did not see that one coming. I mean I’ve heard San Francisco can turn a man, but you, Lieutenant Sexy? You’ve got so much testosterone that you ooze pheromones. Please come back to the straight team. We need you.”

He blinked. “What? No.” Jesus. “The manicure isn’t for me.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“So?” Luke asked both women. “A blue manicure?”

“Didn’t you have a blue manicure last month?” the brunette asked. “We were experimenting with the new spray brush, remember?”

“Didn’t keep them blue for more than a few minutes,” Melissa said casually, and sipped from the coffee in her hands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a last-minute emergency appointment.” She started to walk into the studio, then turned back to Luke. “I’m the only game in town, but it’s not far to other salons,” she said. “In fact, there’s one not too far down the road in Ocean Shores, and they specialize in original nail designs. You might check with them. But just out of curiosity, why are you asking?”

“Nothing important,” he said.

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a long, speculative look, then vanished inside.

Thoughtful, Luke walked back to his truck and found Jack in the passenger seat, slurping coffee like his life depended on it. There was a look on Jack’s face that had Luke’s gut clenching. “Ben?”

Jack’s expression immediately lightened. “No, man. He’s fine, as far as I know. I haven’t heard from him, but last time he emailed, he was pretty sure he’d be home soon.” He jutted his chin toward the salon. “You get yourself a nice cut and color?”

“Yeah, real nice. What are you doing here?”

“Leah’s dating some new guy. I ran him,” Jack said, “and he’s got a record.”

“You ran him? Since when does a firefighter run people?”

“Hey, I have friends in high places, okay? And it was for the common good.”

Luke shook his head. “What’s his record?”

“He’s got a library debt.”

Luke stared at him. “Well, hell, Jack. We should string him up for that.”

“Hey, if he can’t keep a library book safe, he sure as hell can’t take care of one little pastry chef.”

“So you’re waiting here to tell her that?”

“No, I’m going to tell him that. I’m waiting for him to get out of there. He’s currently sucking up to Leah, looking for date number two.”

Luke laughed. Jack and Leah had been friends since their school days. The kind of friends who moved each other’s parked cars to different streets, or set them up on bad blind dates for the sheer entertainment value. But this curiosity about who Leah was dating was new. Very new. Jack wasn’t a possessive guy about anything. He’d lost his dad early in a tragic fire. Since then Jack hadn’t taken much of anything too seriously—except his job. “You’re crazy.”

“Says the guy who just came out of a beauty salon,” Jack said.

Luke stared at Jack, trying to figure out the odd tone in his voice. “I thought you and Leah were just friends.”

“Yeah, and friends don’t let friends date potential felons,” Jack said. “And aren’t you supposed to be back in San Francisco?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be putting out fires?”

“I’m just coming off four twenty-fours and going straight to bed.”

“Not yet you’re not.” Luke turned over his engine and pulled out into the street.

“Hey,” Jack said.

“I need your help,” Luke said.

At the sheriff’s station, they were directed to Sawyer’s office. He took them to the one and only spare room—the interrogation room. There they had a computer and the gas station’s surveillance tapes from the night of the auction.

“We’ve been over them,” Sawyer said, “there’s nothing.”

“Well, if there’s nothing…” Jack said on a yawn.

“So where does that leave you?” Luke asked Sawyer.

Sawyer shook his head. “We’ve run Ted’s and Ali’s financials. Nothing sticks out. We’ve gotten forensics back on the office prints. Everyone and their mother was in that office. The only real evidence we have is the bill band found in Ali’s possession.”

“And the toe ring and the blue acrylic nail tip.”

“With nothing to connect either of them to the crime,” Sawyer said.

“Melissa says there’s a salon in Ocean Shores that specializes in original nail designs. Whatever that means.”

Sawyer shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay, that definitely did not come out when I talked to her. I’ll check on that.”

“And how about Melissa’s financials? She might be feeling spurned…”

“We’re still looking at her, yes. But…”

“But what?”

“Ali stole the damn ceramic pot,” Sawyer said. “That looks bad. None of the other players had anything, including motive.”

Luke’s gut churned. “An arrest on circumstantial evidence? Weak.”

Sawyer sighed. “Small town mentality here, man. Give me a break.”

“She’s innocent. If you didn’t find anything on the video, that tells us either the money wasn’t taken out that night at all, or the thief didn’t leave by the front door because they had access to the back door.”

“Like an employee,” Sawyer said. “I know. Working on that. Also, we’ve put out word that there’s a reward. Five grand. That might help.”

Luke hit a key on the computer so that it booted up.

Jack groaned. “Let me guess. We’re going to watch all of the video.”

Luke turned up the volume. Jack sighed and took a seat. “Yeah. We’re going to watch all of the video.”

Two hours later, they’d watched people come and go from the building and it’d yielded nothing but a gut ache from all the soda and chips they’d consumed from the vending machine down the hall.

“Can I go to sleep now?” Jack asked, yawning wide.

Luke’s phone rang. His commander. Shit.

Jack looked at him. “Problem?”

Luke answered. “Hanover.”

“Tell me you’re here in San Francisco,” the commander’s voice boomed, loud enough for Jack to wince.

“Not yet,” Luke said.

The commander’s response was a string of oaths. “What the hell are you doing there?”