I know from the curious looks my team tosses around when I walk in the front door with Olive that the first order of business this morning will be to explain her situation to the group.

Olive has brought her work with her, so I lead her down the hallway toward our offices and set her up at my desk. Leaning against the partition that separates my workspace from Jeremy’s, I assess her. She’s settled in my chair, her laptop open on my desk. There’s a sketchbook sitting next to it, and she has spread various swatches and samples over the place where my paperwork usually lies. Olive is casual today, in jeans, boots, and a sweater that clings to her torso. Her deep red hair is still pulled up, her sleek ponytail not showing a strand out of place.

She looks beautiful, and the sight of her sitting at my desk does something strange to me. It makes me want to see her there again and again. This is the second space of mine that she’s been thrust into, and instead of making me uncomfortable, it’s making me want more of her.

I clear my throat. “You gonna be okay here while I go into the morning meeting with the guys?”

An amused expression crosses her face. “Don’t you mean ‘the guys and Sayward’?”

Shrugging, I give her a small smile. I’d reintroduced her to Sayward as soon as we’d arrived. “Sayward is one of the guys.”

Olive rolls her eyes. Every time she does that, I want to pull her to me and dare her to roll those eyes again. She’s so damn sassy. “I don’t know, Ronin…can I survive an hour alone at your desk? I mean, whatever will I do with myself?” Putting on an exaggerated southern accent, she fans herself and bats her long, dark lashes.

“Okay, smart-ass, easy. I was just saying, if you need anything to let me know now.” I’m fighting hard against my smile.

She gestures toward her array of supplies. “I’m all good here, Ronin. Just try to forget about me and do your day, okay?”

If she thinks she’s forgettable, she’s seriously unaware.

Of everything.

I walk away, but I know that during the whole meeting I’m going to have the picture of her sitting at my desk stuck at the front of my mind. When I stride into the office I’m met with three sets of smug eyes.

“So,” begins Dare. He settles his elbows on the conference table and leans in, like he’s gearing up for the Spanish damn inquisition. “Jeremy’s is gone for three days, and you’re already moving in on his sister-in-law?”

Dare shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me, but I can see the gleeful spark in his eye, and it’s making me want to knock him out of his chair.

Grisham joins in the game. “So did it happen the night of the wedding, or did you actually wait until the next day?” His tone is serious, but his stupid laughing eyes give him away, too.

Sayward’s glance darts among all of us, her confusion clearly written on her face. “Why did she need to work here today? Doesn’t she have her own office?”

Even though Sayward’s the one who has issues when it comes to social interaction, she’s the only one who realized the problem with their idiotic teasing.

Folding my arms against my chest, I wait for my teammates to realize what Sayward just pointed out.

Grisham’s expression sobers first. “What’s going on?”

Behind me, Jacob Owen enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Going on with what?”

Moving out of his way, I settle in my usual seat and send irritated glances toward the other two men. If I weren’t really worried about Olive and what could be going through Mick Oakes’s head, I’d usually think their ridiculous teasing was funny. It’s our thing to rib each other, poke each other, especially when it comes to women. And I know they didn’t know, because I hadn’t told them that Olive might be in trouble.

“Olive’s with me because before Jeremy and Rayne left for their honeymoon, Jeremy asked me to keep an eye on her. I just found out that someone from her past is back in town, and he’s bad news.”

Every ounce of humor gone from his expression, Dare’s critical eyes assess me. “Tell us who he is and where to find him.”

I relay the story of Olive and Mick’s relationship and Mick’s Margiano family connection, along with what happened when we ran into him at The Oakes last night. The team listens intently until I’m finished, and then they begin firing off questions about Bennett, the bar, and the connection to Mick.

I answer it all as best I can, and when I’m finished the four other people in the room look just as concerned about Olive as I am.

“Apart from breaking into her place, which we can’t actually prove he did, he hasn’t actually done anything illegal. But Olive doesn’t scare easily, and she’s terrified of him. It was clear as day from the way she shut down when he walked into that bar. I want to make sure he doesn’t come near her.” Even I’m surprised at the determination in my voice, but I mean every single word.

Jacob strokes his chin, thoughtfully. “You’re right about that. Keeping her with you is the best way to keep an eye on her for now. And we can’t just go in, guns blazing, and take out Albert Margiano’s second-in-command without tanking the whole op. In the meantime, we’ll look into what Mick Oakes has been doing since she cut ties with him, and find out where he likes to hang out now. If there’s anything that doesn’t smell right in his recent history, we’ll find it.”

I nod, relief flowing through me. Having my team makes me feel a little bit better, because with all of NES on her side, I know that Olive will be safe.

My mind travels to my other problem while Jacob starts running down the details of an upcoming project. I need to find the connection between Elle’s murder case and the new homicide the WPD are investigating. Not just for Elle’s justice, but also for my own damn sanity. The guilt is eating me alive.

About an hour later, everyone disperses, leaving the room to train. I pull Sayward up short before she exits, and she turns to face me expectantly.

“I know you’re going to look into Mick Oakes for me, and I appreciate it. Can I also ask you to look into something else?”

She studies me, and I’m not sure what she’s searching for in my eyes but eventually she nods. “Name it.”

I inhale, lowering my voice. “I want you to find me a list of family members, with current addresses, for a Grace Hodges. She was the victim in a recent homicide here in town.”

Sayward tucks the name away and looks at me with shrewd eyes. “Why?”

I hesitate, wondering how much to say. I know how close Sayward and Jacob are, and I don’t want my boss to know what I’m doing. “I have a friend who’s the lead detective on the case, and I’m helping him out. Can you get me those addresses?”

She nods. “Of course.”

I know that if there’s information to be found, Sayward can dig it up.

“Thanks.”

When I make it back to my desk, I’m forced to pause. Olive is sitting there, her sole focus on her swatches, her bottom lip sucked into her mouth. I’m hit hard with desire.

“Hey.” Keeping my voice low so I don’t startle her, I move into the space with her.

Her eyes dart up to meet mine, and an immediate smile crosses her lips. That smile? Stabs me right in the gut. Because it’s something she didn’t have to think about: it’s automatic. Why do I like that so much?

“Hi. I didn’t hear you come up.” She leans back in the seat and eyes me as I perch a hip on the desk, glancing down at her work.

“What are you working on?”

She picks up two pieces of fabric, a printed tawny pattern and a sage green that has shiny leaf-like designs on it in the same color. “Well, I’m doing the master bedroom in this amazing old Victorian downtown. Well, Beth is doing it now, but I’m hoping to help finish up when I’m back at work. I’m going for a style that won’t disrupt the classic design of the era, but modern enough to satisfy the owner.”

Holding the swatches up to the light, she narrows her eyes. “Do you like these?”

I study them, noticing how well the colors fit together even though I wouldn’t have known to put them side by side on my own. Then I glance down at the sketch of the room’s decor, and I realize that this woman is truly talented at what she does. “It’s beautiful, Red.”

Her smile goes a little shy. “Thanks. I’m going to have to find a way to get these to the office this week.”

“We’ll make it happen.”

I pull a chair to the opposite side of the desk and we work across from each other for a while. The scratching of her pencil against paper mixes with the sound of my fingers tapping against my keyboard, and to my ears it seems like a melody we’re creating together. I’m leaning back in my chair, ready to ask Olive whether or not she’s ready to take a break for lunch, when Sayward sticks her head around the corner.

“Swagger…I’ve got the information you asked for.” She passes me a printed sheet of paper and grins. “Easy as pie.”

Returning her smile, I thank her. “I’ll let you know if I need you to find anything else for me, cool?”

“Cool.” Giving Olive an awkward wave, Sayward disappears.

Olive glances at me. “She’s an odd duck.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “I don’t care how odd she is, she’s a genius with a computer and that’s what we need her for.”

Olive’s eyes sparkle. “She’s really pretty, but I don’t think she even knows it.”

I absently nod, glancing down at the list of names and addresses Sayward just handed over, complete with thumbnail–size images for each of the three persons. I’d asked her to look up the other homicide victim, Grace Hodges’s, surviving family members, and that’s exactly what she’d given me. I’m staring at two women, one appearing to be in her twenties and one who looks to be older, and one middle-aged man.

Grace has a surviving twin sister. That’s better than I could have asked for. I’m willing to bet she knows more than anyone else about what her sister might have been up to, who she might have been seeing or talking to, leading up to her murder.

“Hey.”

Olive looks up at my voice. “Yeah?”

“I need to take care of something. I want you to come with me, and then we can grab lunch. Sound good?”

She places down her materials, then stands up and stretches. My eyes stray to the slash of creamy skin on display where her shirt rides up above her jeans. I can’t help it; I wonder what she tastes like there.

As sweet as she smells?

“Lead the way, McBossy.”

Laughing outright at her nickname, I place a hand on the small of her back and lead her out of the office.