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“Ah, give him a break.” My younger partner stretches in his seat. “He never planned to come back from Saudi.” We’re quiet a moment, and my thoughts go to how messed up Stuart was when he did come back.

Patrick breaks the moment with a laugh. “So I’m officially off the hook. At least my office fuck-up was also a set-up.”

“I’m glad you’re both on a leash now. Makes my job easier.”

“I am a happily married man. That is the truth.”

“As if we don’t have en

ough shit going on.” I grumble. “Is she going to sue us?”

“No fucking way. It was consensual—apparently very consensual. It’s why I never made any progress with her. She was hoping to get back in his pants when he came home. Ahhnd now she can’t work with him.”

“So she’s pissed about Mariska?” Jealousy is a fucking nightmare to deal with. I rub my brow, trying to think. “I don’t have time to train somebody new.”

“I thought you hated Nikki.” His laugh irritates me.

“She’s a terrible secretary, but at least we know her weaknesses.” Filtering through my options, I land on one. “Maybe if I talked to her...”

“Won’t work. This is more than simple jealousy. She pulled some stunt in Montana, got Stuart all riled up, ran Mariska off. She said she’s too humiliated to stay.”

“What kind of teenage drama is this?”

“Don’t yell at me. I tried to keep her out of their way.”

Frustration twists in my chest. I’ve got a fucking psycho threatening Star and now the Princeton office is a circus. “I’ll talk to Stuart and see what he thinks.”

“It’s possible if I asked her to stay, told her we need her, the office can’t run without her—”

“Just hold off on that. I don’t want to make any false claims.”

He chuckles as we’re pulling into the parking lot of his and Elaine’s condo. “I’ll run more background checks on Sloan tonight. See if he has any nutjob relatives we overlooked.”

“Thanks. I’ll see if I can come up with anything.”

“You might try talking to Melissa about it. She was married to the guy.”

That reminder burns my chest. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

My eyes flicker over Patrick’s shoulder as I pull out, and I catch Elaine standing in the doorway. She’s watching me with a worried expression that bothers me, and I drive a little faster than legal to get home. Patrick should have told me this case had gotten so specific. I never would have left Wilmington today if I’d known.

Quickly killing the car in our driveway, I hustle up to the door when I see something that slows my pace. Three large black suitcases and my duffel bag are stacked on the porch. My eyes travel over the house, and I can see the flicker of the television through the sheer blinds in the kitchen. Melissa and Dex are here, but clearly something’s wrong.

My chest tightens as I walk toward the entrance. Lifting one of the bags, I notice it’s heavy. I pull the zipper down, and inside are my clothes. What the fuck? Standing, I push my key in the lock and try to open the door, but it stops short. The metal chain prevents it from opening. I can only see a few inches into the kitchen.

“Melissa?” I shout through the crack. “What’s going on? Let me in.”

Footsteps thud on the other side, and all at once the door is shoved closed, pushing me back. The sound of the deadbolt locking follows next.

“Melissa?” I shout, banging on the door, but she doesn’t answer. I’m simultaneously pissed and confused. All my shit’s out here... Is she throwing me out?

My key is back in the lock, and I open the door again, but again it’s stopped by the chain. “Melissa, unfasten the chain.”

“No.” Her voice is just on the other side of the door.

I can’t see her, but I can hear the anger in her tone. Dex’s train show sounds in the background, and I don’t want to argue in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, I stay calm. “Please open the door and talk to me.”