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"Hi." Clem looked back at us, her eyes darting about as if trying desperately to avoid looking at us. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too." I held my hand out to her, and she shook it firmly.

"Cold Cases are somewhat of a special interest of mine. Genealogy testing on old cases, rerunning DNA with today's technology, and fingerprint tech are my favorites." She became immediately animated and her formerly stoic expression lightened. "Do you like Guns N' Roses?" She pointed to my shirt that barely peeked out from under my jacket.

"Uh—yes." I blinked as I tried to keep up with the speed of her topic jumps. "Yeah. For sure."

"Right on." She smiled then glanced at Ainsley. "I can help them."

"Good." Ainsley grinned and gave Clem's shoulder a squeeze. "They're working on case file six-twelve-thirty-fifty. Okay?"

"Affirmative." Clem swung around to her computer and began typing at a heated speed. "I'll requisition the files to be brought up to me for tomorrow." She looked over her shoulder, right at me and said, "You can meet me at nine sharp."

"Okay." I smirked and glanced at Zay. "Cool?"

"Not him," piped Clem despite the fact she returned her attention to the sleek monitor in front of her. "Just you."

"Well then." I couldn't hold back the laugh that made it to my lips. "Nine it is."

Ainsley snickered behind her hand as she waved us toward the door. "C'mon. Clem has work to do."

"I'm so confused right now." Zay walked with us out of the lab wearing an expression of bewilderment.

I shook my head and followed Ainsley out without bothering to ponder the situation further.

Chapter Two

"You're up early," Tatiana announced while braiding her daughter's hair at the kitchen table.

The kid stared at a tablet propped against a milk jug. The tablet spoke to her in Portuguese, and she tapped along with the prompts while it listed out the names of fruits and vegetables.

"Meeting with a forensic investigator this morning then a P.I. this afternoon." I smoothed down the front of my shirt then adjusted my gear belt.

"Also looking rather dapper today. Holeless and everything," she teased, cocking a brow at me as she poured Reagan a bowl of cereal. "Don't go painting in that shirt."

"Don't plan to." I smirked and joined them at the table. "Morning, kiddo." I smooched Reagan's cheek and she smiled.

"Bom dia!" she chirped and pointed at her tablet.

"Is that good morning?" I asked, and she nodded her response.

"Sim." She tapped the screen again to pause the prompts. "Do you know it?"

"Nope. I only know Spanish."

Tatiana smiled while listening to us and tied off the end of Reagan's braid. She smoothed her hair back, then clipped an orange bow behind her ear. "How's that, sugarplum?"

"Good." Reagan reached back to touch it. "Are you taking me to school today or the bus is?"

"Bus. Mama's heading down to the gallery today." She nudged Reagan's shoulder. "Eat, please."

"Can't Auntie Jags take me?" Reagan picked up her spoon and took a heaping bite of her bran flakes.

Tatiana looked at me, her brows lifting when she hesitated. Tati never lied to her kid, and I could get behind that.

"Only if you can handle listening to Lady Gaga for the entire walk," I said, smirking with it. "Or Guns N' Roses."

"Okay, both!" Reagan pounded her fist on her knee then began belting out the chorus to Bad Romance, complete with the Little Monster fingers and all.