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“Looks like it’s up to you or your partner,” Brian said, nodding at the unconscious elderly woman kicking her orthopedic shoe in her sleep.

Nick could only begin to imagine the havoc Mrs. Penny would wreak all over some stuffed-shirt, black-tie shit show.

His birthday officially sucked. But there was no reason he shouldn’t make it suck for Griffin.

“Personal security will run you another grand up front in cash,” Nick announced. “VIP service for a VIP client.”

“VIP?”Riley asked as she helped him wheel the whiteboard back into his office. Griffin was on his way to his massage with Josie as his security. Brian was tackling background checks on the first two dozen potential suspects. And Mrs. Penny was still sound asleep. The rest of their roommates were God knows where doing God knows what.

“Vacuous Ignorant Prick,” Nick explained.

“Nice. Wow. It doesn’t look as horrible in here,” Riley noted, scoping out the room. He’d shoveled out most of the actual trash, reorganized his paperwork piles, and pried open the windows to let the fresh fall air overtake the stench of moldy takeout.

“What can I say? I’m a miracle worker,” he said as he positioned the whiteboard in front of the windows.

“Soooo, what’s with the sudden change of heart on Griffin’s case?” she asked innocently.

He sighed and leaned against the desk. “I know you know, so you can quit pretending like you don’t know.”

“We need money,” she said matter-of-factly.

“We’re not move-into-a-cardboard-box destitute,” he said defensively. “It’s more like maybe-we-shouldn’t-

make-any-medium-size-purchases-or-we’ll-have-to-cancel-our-streaming-services inconvenienced.”

“Hmm,” she said.

“What? No ‘I told you so’? You’re within your rights. I was a stubborn pain in the ass about finding Weber’s sister.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not as much fun when you already know I was right. Besides, making you feel worse doesn’t help the situation.”

Nick tugged her in to stand between his open legs. “You’re too good for me. I mean, I want you to know that I know that. But I also have no intention of letting you wander off to find someone more deserving.”

Her smile made the knots in his gut loosen.

“How much do we need?” she asked.

“If the check in my pocket doesn’t bounce and the cash isn’t counterfeit, they’ll temporarily stop the hemorrhaging.”

Riley slid her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry we have to get dressed up and try to make sure no one kills my crappy ex-husband on your birthday.”

“Look at it this way. He’s notyourproblem anymore. Now he’sourproblem.”

Her smile was soft. “You’re a pretty sweet guy, Nick Santiago.”

He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“So what are we going to do about outfits for the masquerade ball if we’re moderately broke?”

“Leave that to me,” he said with confidence.

“I’m not wearing lingerie to a gala,” Riley warned.

“Okay fine. I’ll come up with a plan B.” His hands slid down to cup her ass. He gave her a firm squeeze. “We have some time before we should head out and interview fake suspects for a fake crime. Wanna go upstairs and?—”

“Anyone seen my chainsaw?” Mr. Willicott, the best- looking and least lucid of the Bogdanovich mansion tenants, stood in the doorway, still holding his dusty-ass accordion.

“I will lose my mind living with these people again,” Nick complained.