Nari clinked and then took a sip. Excellent. “I doubt you usually conduct exit interviews.”

“No,” Opal agreed, her beautiful eyes shining. “Only when somebody’s father goofs up their team placement out of confusion because men are dumb sometimes. You know, I do try to be involved during those situations.”

Nari laughed. The woman did have a good sense of humor. “So what’s happened?”

“Well, you quit. I yelled at your father for a good amount of time and then we made up.”

“I’ve never seen anybody yell at my father. How did that go?” Nari asked, taking another sip.

“It was probably easier to take since we’re dating each other,” Opal said.

Nari set down her glass. “I wondered if we were going to discuss that matter.”

“There’s nothing for us to discuss.” Opal partially turned to look beyond Nari. She frowned. “What in the world?”

The door opened and a man moved inside, even his face covered in a black mask. He moved gracefully and held a weapon.

Nari reacted instantly. She charged.

* * *

Angus shifted on the seat. Nari should be about finished with brunch and he was done with this interview. “Either arrest me or I’m out of here.” Hopefully they wouldn’t call his bluff.

A knock sounded on the door, and Tate stood to open it, leaning down so a uniformed cop could say something in his ear. His broad back visibly tightened and he turned, his eyes burning. “We apparently have another victim. She’s already been identified as Dr. Emily Shelman. Does that name ring a bell?”

Angus straightened. “Yes, but I think you already know that. She’s the doctor who called time of death on Henry Wayne Lassiter six years ago. Where did you find her?”

A muscle ticked down the long cord of Tate’s neck. “She was found in your HDD office by a janitor sent in to clean.”

The news was like a punch to the gut. Angus swallowed. “Was there a note?”

Tate looked at Buckle. “I want to view the scene.”

Buckle nodded toward Angus. “What do you want to do with him?”

Angus stood. “Either take me to the scene or I’m going there on my own. Come on, Tate. You know I didn’t do this, and I can help analyze the scene and the note. I can compare it to all the others for you.”

Tate’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “All right.”

Buckle straightened. “Hey. We don’t want him with us.”

Tate shrugged. “He’s going either way, and I’d rather keep an eye on him. We could place him under arrest, but he’d be out in hours, and then we’d have to hand the case over to the prosecuting attorney’s office—if the HDD didn’t try to steal the entire case before we could. I’m not done yet.”