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“Why are we whispering?” Nick asked.

“She’s one of the suspects. She’s the anchor Griffin’s dad fired. I recognize the tattoo on her shoulder.”

“Why don’t you go interview her?” he said.

“Me?” Riley squeaked.

“Yeah, you. You’ve met her before, right?”

“Yes, but?—”

“You’re a badass psychic who’s learning how to investigate shit, right?”

She nodded. “Also yes. Againbut.”

“Then go on over there and ask her a couple of questions.”

Riley bit her lower lip. “What if I screw it up?”

“Then I’ll come over and throw shrimp tails in her hair,” he said, his dimples appearing beneath his mask. “Think of it as practice. You and Gabe practice the psychic stuff all the time. This is the same except you’re just trying to figure out if she was in town this morning.”

She pouted. “You’re just making me do it because you want to sit here and eat your cake.”

“It’s really good cake.”

She slapped his thigh. “Nick!”

He laughed. “You’ve got this, Thorn. You’re the queen of polite. You’re a damn genius when it comes to getting people to open up. And that’s even without your secret mind-reading weapon.”

Riley straightened her shoulders. He was right. Shecoulddo this. Or at least she should be able to do this. She blew out a breath. “Okay. Fine. But try not to steal anyone else’s celebratory desserts while I’m gone.”

She left Nick and his cake at the table and gave herself a pep talk on the way to the bar. She was a badass investigator in training. She could talk to people about stuff.

The woman was definitely giving Griffin the death glare. She had thick dark hair that curled around her shoulders, partially camouflaging the tattoo of a lotus blossom.

“Excuse me. Are you Claudia Mendoza?”

The woman in question turned her back on the view of the dance floor and gave Riley a hair-to-shoes once-over. “Yes?”

“I’m Riley Thorn. We met briefly at the broadcasting brunch a few years ago. I thought I’d come reintroduce myself.”

Claudia’s red lips pursed. “Hmm, Riley Thorn. Why do I know that name?” She spoke as if she were narrating a traffic jam on Route 83.

Riley didn’t have to feign her grimace. “I’ve been in the news once or twice in the past few months.”

Claudia’s brown eyes sharpened. “Ah, yes. The psychic who survived the trigger-happy mayor and saved everyone from the bomb at Channel 50.”

“I used to work there.”

Claudia toyed with the stack of bracelets she wore on her wrist. “Yes, well. So did I once upon a time.”

The mask made it hard for Riley to judge the woman’s facial expressions, but there was no mistaking the bitterness emanating from her. It was an experience worth bonding over, Riley decided.

“I got fired from Channel 50…by my ex-husband, Griffin Gentry.”

An elegant eyebrow arched over Claudia’s mask. “Is that so?”

“Well, I couldn’t really keep working there anyway after he decided to leave me for the weather girl.”