Dahlia clutched the cold water bottle as she approached the set manager and the two uniformed officers waiting there with him. Her heart started to pound. Her hands sweated as much as the cold plastic bottle she gripped so tightly.

What was this about? They must have called her office to try to reach her. The call redirected to Nelle. How else would they have known she’d be at Prima Studios today?

“Here’s Miss Dean.” Harry indicated to her with his hand.

One of the officers nodded. “We’ll take it from here.”

Harry looked relieved. He went out on the floor where the disco ball and dance floor was located.

Dahlia felt Cy’s hand against her back as she went up to the officers. “Hello, I’m Dahlia.”

“Miss Dean, I’m Sergeant Mayor and this is Sergeant Gibbs.” Sergeant Mayor looked to Cy. “We need to talk to you alone for a minute.”

She faced Cy. He nodded without her saying a word. He rubbed her back once before stepping away. She spoke to the officers again. “Is this about the Marsters case?”

“One of our homicide detectives called your office about half an hour ago. The number redirected to your assistant. Nelle, was it?”

“Yes. She told you I was working out of the office today?”

“She did. Is there a chance you can come down to the station? The detectives have some questions about Mary Marsters that they want to ask you.”

If the cops came to tell her that, she knew it was urgent. Maybe they found something that could catch the man in the black mask. “I’m finished on set. I can come by now.”

“I’ll let the detectives know they can expect to see you at the station soon.”

With that, the officers turned around and left.

***

DAHLIA WENT TO THE police station with Cy. He had a seat in the waiting area while she was taken into the back with the detectives. He couldn’t come with her because he wasn’t her attorney or part of the investigation.

“Have you found something?” Nervous, she chewed on the inside of her jaw while a detective in a suit approached.

“Miss Dean, were you aware that Mary Marsters had an ex-husband?”

“She told me she had been married once, but her ex left the country three years ago after they divorced.”

“Did she ever show you his pictures? Did you see any around the house?”

She tried to recall, and then shook her head. “Not that I can remember. When I went there, I was always focused on what I needed to do for her makeup. I think she may have had pictures of her parents in her living room, but that’s all I can think of.”

“Thank you, Miss Dean. I’ll give you a call if I need to speak with you again.”

That was it? Part of Dahlia wanted to be relieved because it was over. Another part of her wanted to know what the detective’s next step would be. “Do you think the masked man was Mary’s ex-husband?”

“We’re still looking for the person who broke into her house. Have a good afternoon, Miss Dean.” The detective opened the door to let her out first.

She scuffled back into the waiting area. Cy got out of his seat when she came by. “That was quick.”

“They said I can leave. They just wanted to ask me some questions. More like one question.”

She put her coat on and went outside. Once they were in the car, Cy turned to her. “Did they find him?”

“No, it doesn’t sound like they did. The detective asked me what I knew about Mary Marsters’s ex-husband. He hasn’t been in the states for three years.”

“That you know of.”

“What are you thinking?”

Cy waited for a police cruiser to drive out of the parking lot first before he did. “Estranged exes can be trouble, even the ones who aren’t yours.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“I’ve helped protect other clients from ex-spouses who just didn’t know when to go away. You need to be careful. If her ex-husband is still out there and he’s nursing a grudge, he could be looking for you since you saw what happened.”

Dahlia felt a sheet of ice slide down her back. “If he’s been out of the country for years, I can’t think why he’d still be nursing a grudge.” She balanced her purse in her lap and shrugged. “Not like I would know anything about it.”

“Yeah. I need to fill up the tank.” As usual, Cy kept his eyes glued to the road. She could tell he was thinking.

She checked her phone. She got a text from Brandon. He told her he got cleared from the doctor and his father was taking him home from the clinic. “Brandon’s doing well. We can go home, too.”

After Cy filled up his tank, he drove her to her house and parked in her driveway. “I’ll stay here until night patrol comes.”

She opened the door and stuck one foot out. Then she paused. “I’m not sure I said thanks for securing my office and going to the movie set with me. I know it’s been a lot with my online videos, meetings with editors, and pretending to be my assistant today on set.”

“You really don’t have to thank me. I keep telling you it’s my job.”

“I still appreciate what you do.”

She wasn’t sure if he nodded after what she said or if he was just looking in the rearview mirror at a set of headlights behind them. “See you in the morning.”

Dahlia felt a little isolated. All she did was express her gratitude for him going out of his way and something about his tone indicated that he didn’t want to hear her.

Maybe this was how he acted towards all his clients. This could be his professional distance. Or was she the only one with whom he wanted to maintain distance?

She stuck her other foot out of the door and finished getting out of the car as the night patrol went up to her driveway. Cy gave a quick nod to the other guy in the car before he drove off.

She went into her house and kicked off her shoes. Her phone rang in her purse before she had a chance to set it down. Who was calling her business line in the evening? She unzipped her bag and grabbed the phone. It was an Atlanta area code, but she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Am I speaking with Dahlia Dean, please?” a man’s voice inquired.

For a brief second, she debated whether to confirm her name. She decided to go ahead. If the person had her number, chances are, they knew exactly who they were calling and were just being polite to ask. “This is she.”

“Miss Dean, I’m Emmett Jones, Mary’s attorney and estate manager. The reason I’m calling is because there’s going to be a memorial service for my client next week. Did you hear about it?”

“I thought I saw on the news that the family wanted a private funeral and might have a memorial for her associates.”

“Correct. I understand you’ve done Mary’s hair and makeup on multiple occasions. Do you think you can make it to the service?”

“I... I can be there.”

“Good. I’m still planning the seating. I need to know if you’re bringing someone with you.”

Her mind traveled to Cy. “My assistant will be coming with me.”

“And the name?”

Cy gave her a funny look the last time she gave his full name. She gazed at the spines of the books on her shelf. One in particular stood out from the rest because it had gold letters. “Dan Ringgold.” She read the name of the author.

“Thank you, Miss Dean. I’ll have the venue and time information sent to your office intern tomorrow morning.”

Dahlia got off the phone, wondering what she would tell Cy or, rather, Dan Ringgold tomorrow about the memorial service he was going to attend with her next week.

***

JUST AS SHE EXPECTED, Cy was not happy to hear the news. “You told Mary’s lawyer my name was Dan Ringgold?” He was incredulous as they rode the elevator to her office the next day.

“It was the first name I saw on a book on my bookshelf. I couldn’t think of anything else on the spot.”

“Do you want me to go to a memorial service under false pretenses?”

She grimaced when he spelled it out. “Since you put it that way, it is pretty bad. I could call the attorney back and say I’m bringing another person with me instead.”

Cy moved his head in the negative. “It’s a somber event. I don’t think it’s a good idea to bother her attorney with little details like that.”

The elevator chimed to reach their floor. Dahlia waited for him to step out first, as usual, as a safety precaution. “I know why I hired you, but I don’t have any expectations.”

“What did you mean?” He viewed her with an unreadable stare.

“The service takes place in the evening. I don’t expect you to follow me around everywhere at all times. If you have other plans, or...other people you want to see in the evening, I’ll understand.” Other people he wanted to see? Oh no, that sounded too much like dating language. The way she said it made her sound nosy. “I mean if there are other people you want to spend time with.” Goodness. Why couldn’t she get her words and phrases to come out right?

“Don’t worry about my personal life,” he replied, dryly. “I can get the job done.”

She held up her hands in mock defense. “I’m just trying to be considerate.”

He looked away. “It came off a little harsh, didn’t it?”

“A little.”

“Sorry, Dahlia. I’m only trying to say you can trust me. I don’t want you to feel like I can’t protect you because I’m distracted by something else.”

Was there something else? Was that why he seemed distant one moment and present yet guarded the next?

“I don’t feel that way. It seems like I keep hitting a sore spot with you whenever I talk about things that don’t have to do with your job.”

“I like to stay focused. Since I’m going to this service as Dan Ringgold, I better read up on his books.”

She saw the traces of humor in his eyes and in a slightly upturned curve of his mouth. “Just make a joke and say that people mistake you for the author all the time.”

“I don’t plan on doing much talking.”

She walked with him to her office. “If I have to make up another name for you again, I don’t want to, either.”