The office was busy, with interns and assistants and associates speed-walking from room to room, all suited up and looking sharp. I left my suit in the car. It just didn’t feel like a suit kind of day. First, not only was it raining and gloomy, but also, regardless of the merdoso weather, I felt like I had a beam of sunshine directly above me at all times. I was on cloud nine. Last night had been one of the best nights of my life, and the pep in my step made that obvious to everyone around.

I didn’t think I’d wake up feeling so damn happy. And I certainly wasn’t expecting that euphoria to last well into my day, but sure enough, it did. Even Candice noticed something when I walked into her office.

“You… did you get fucked?”

Merda… was I walking like a penguin?

I huffed. “Again with the assumption. What if I was the one who did the fucking?”

“We’ve talked about that ass of yours.”

I laughed, nodding my head. “It was a night in paradiso, Candice.” I brought my fingers to my lips, kissing them. “Perfetto. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better night.”

“Damn, that good, huh?”

“Very good. And not only the sex—everything about the night was great. From the time we spent walking through a museum of dildos and sex dolls, to the time we spent talking until we fell asleep.”

“Oh, stop it,” Candice said, her bright red nails flashing through the air. “You had me at dildos and sex dolls.” She laughed, pushing back from her desk and standing up from her chair. She was looking real sharp in an all-white pant suit. “It sounds like you found someone special. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I feel it, too.”

“Plus,” she said, glancing at her watch, “you came in walking like a penguin.”

“I did not.”

She ignored my statement. “I’ve got a meeting with the Millers now in five minutes. Did you figure anything out on your case? The one with the murdered couple?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. If anything, the trail is starting to lead back to Ricky.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” I rolled my neck, joints popping in response. Candice collected some things from her desk before turning to the full-length mirror propped against the wall. “But still,” I continued, “there’s no solid evidence pointing to Ricky, unless the prosecution is going to come out with some surprise.”

“Is there anything they can surprise you with?”

I nodded, my lips pursed. “He had a one-night stand with the husband.”

Candice’s well-done eyebrows shot up. “Double shit.”

“But I figured that out through Zane’s investigating. I still don’t think other people know about it.”

“Still, you want to get ahead of it.”

“Exactly.” I shook my head, walking with Candice toward the door to her office. “Zane is interviewing the sister of the murdered woman now. Hopefully she remembers something.”

“Hopefully.” Candice opened the door and entered the chaos of the hallway. I followed behind. Phones were ringing, lawyers were arguing, and printers were singing the song of their people. The meeting rooms were on the way to my office, so I walked next to Candice. “Just work your hardest and craft a bulletproof defense, regardless of what Zane brings back to you. You can’t count on the sister knowing anything. If it were my sister, she’d probably be celebrating on a cruise to the Bahamas.”

“You guys are still fighting?”

“When are we not fighting. I wish I had a good relationship with her, but we’ve just never clicked, and it only got worse with time. She lived with me for a few months.”

“Yeah, I remember that.”

“Right. I thought maybe the relationship was salvageable. Then I find out she was stealing from me and making moves on my boyfriend at the time. I could have killed the bitch.”

A spark went off in the far corners of my mind. Like when a match runs against the striker but doesn’t catch fire.

“Well,” I said, letting the thought take shape but not still unable to put the pieces together, “we’ll see what Zane gets back with. I spent a few all-nighters researching comparable cases, and I’ve got a mock trial set up next Friday and another one the week after. The prosecution still doesn’t have any solid evidence. No DNA or witnesses. But if they paint a dark enough picture of Rick, I’m scared that a video with a veiled threat would be enough.”

We stopped in front of the glass doors that opened into the meeting room. “Let me know how it goes.” She grinned at me, her light red lipstick perfectly painted on. “And don’t go near any zoos. They might think one of their penguins escaped.”

“Ha-ha,” I said, tilting my head and turning to go toward my office. I exaggerated a penguin wobble for a few steps, hearing Candice laugh behind me.

I checked the clock on the wall for the tenth time in the last five minutes. It felt like the seconds were crawling by. Something felt off. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but it was growing worse. From the clock, my eyes darted to my phone, lying screen up on my desk. I was expecting a text or call from Zane any minute now. His interview should have been over an hour ago. He’d been there for over two and a half hours already. It wasn’t like he was going over with a book of questions he wanted to ask her. And I didn’t think he was Netflix and chilling with her, either.

During those hours, my mind had been swirling around the case. I kept thinking about Luanne being in a fight the day Tito saw her, and my thoughts would then swing around to Candice. “I could have killed the bitch.” Sibling rivalries could sometimes cut deep enough to take a life. What if Susan and Luanne were fighting in the days leading up to her death? That wouldn’t necessarily make her the killer, but it would definitely be suspicious.

I wanted to talk to Zane about it. I wished I had thought of the possibility last night, when we were lying under the stars together, talking about the case. I hadn’t thought of it, though. Zane said that the sisters seemed to have a good relationship, besides the discrepancy with Ricardo’s description of Susan always being over.

I grabbed my phone and twirled it in a circle on my palm. The rain outside seemed to have gotten angrier, pounding harder against the glass. The wind was loud, and the lightning was striking more frequently. It was the perfect kind of weather to get back under my bedsheets with a naked Zane. I thought back to how great the night had been with him. Not just the sex, but everything else, too.

Cazzo, was the sex mind-blowing. But so was the conversation, how he opened up to me and revealed another layer of himself. And how I did the same with him. Speaking about what Ryan had done to me was cathartic. I felt so much better about it. I was also so much more willing to trust Zane, the man who was showing me that not everyone in the world was a fucking shithead.

I had to hear his voice. What the fuck was he doing with Susan for so long? He could step out for a minute to take my call. I’d apologize as soon as he answered. I didn’t want to be needy or clingy or anything like that, but I was feeling unsettled and needed to hear his voice. That was all.

I called. It rang and rang. Click. Sent to voicemail.

I called again. This time it didn’t even ring. Just went straight to voicemail.

Cazzo.