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knows to keep their eyes peeled. I’ll let you know if it turns up.”

“I appreciate it.” But something told me even if we found it, it wouldn’t lead to anything.

Nine

“I finally figured it out,” I said triumphantly. “Actually, it makes a lot of sense now that I think about it.”

Brad glanced at me. “What does?”

“The reason you weren’t into the barista. You only date blondes.”

“What?”

“Ellie has black hair, and you said there was no chemistry. But you and Carrie have lasted a while, and she’s blonde. You have a thing for blondes.”

“I do not have a thing for blondes.” He glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “And you know Carrie and I aren’t a thing. We’re just having fun.”

“It’s okay. We all have a type.”

“Oh yeah?” Brad cocked an eyebrow at me. “What’s yours?”

“I know it when I see it.”

He snickered. “Fine, Liv. Don’t tell me.” He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, tossing the baseball up in the air and catching it. “Narcotics, gangs, vice, and intelligence all came up blank. Jonathan Gardner’s the most beloved guy in the entire world. His ex and her boyfriend are too far away to have done anything to him, not that they would. I’m sure when she broke his heart, she must have told him it was all her fault since he was perfect.” He glanced at me. “I bet he would have been your type. The all-American, straight white teeth, crooked smile, heart of gold type. Damn. A guy like that shouldn’t go out like this.”

“At least it was quick.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at the horrific crime scene photos of what little was left of Gardner’s face. “Based on what his boss at the security firm said, I think the reason Gardner didn’t draw on the killer was because he didn’t like guns.”

“It could be why he was killed. The thief might have asked for his wallet, thought Gardner was going for the gun, and shot him preemptively.”

“I don’t know, but based on what we’ve learned, I don’t think Gardner was involved in the break-in. I think he was just a victim.”

“Not the target?” Brad asked, playing devil’s advocate, as usual.

“Okay, smart guy, I’ll go along with that if you can tell me who wants him dead or what motive they have for killing him. It’s not like he had a life insurance policy for a few million. Or any life insurance at all. Unless you think this has something to do with a video game.”

“Nope,” Laura ‘Mac’ Mackenzie said, startling me. “I checked, but Gardner’s gaming buddies have their characters intact. If anything, they were quite the kick ass team.” She dragged a straight-back chair beside my desk and plopped down. “Damn, Fennel, you’re looking fine today.”

“Thank you. I’m glad somebody noticed.” He looked pointedly at me.

“Who are you kidding? Everybody noticed. I thought I was going to have to call for riot gear or an emergency evac. First, Ellie, then the barista, and don’t even get me started on Ava.”

“The receptionist from Moonlight Security?” he asked.

“You know damn well what her name is. She tattooed it on your wrist.” I grabbed Brad’s hand and held it up.

Mac laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Too late.” Brad took the list of video game handles from her outstretched hand. “You got their real names and contact info. That’s great. You’re a goddess.”

“I can probably tell you where they’re logging in to play, if they’re online,” Mac offered.

“Even better.” Brad winked at her. “So, do you think I should stick with the dark dress shirt with my jacket? Or go back to the white shirt and tie?”

“Definitely dark dress shirt and no tie. At the risk of having to report for sensitivity training, I’d say you should lose another button.” She nudged me. “What do you think, Liv? He could drop a button, right? Show off those pecs. You work out enough. You ought to flaunt it.”

“Don’t get him started,” I warned.

“You’re no fun,” she said.

My partner beamed. “I’m glad someone notices all the hard work that goes into this.” He waved his hand down his body.

“All right, I have to get back to work. I’ll call you if any of those guys log-in and get you their locations. Do you think one of them is your killer?” Mac asked.

“It’s tough to say. We don’t have any real leads. Every avenue leads to nowhere. But it doesn’t hurt to gather as much information as possible,” Brad said.

“That sucks. If there’s anything you guys need, let me know.”

“Hey, Mac,” I said before she could walk away, “any idea why someone would steal the ticket pad from a dry cleaner’s?”

She chewed on her lip while she thought. “I got nothing.” That made three of us.

Brad continued to stare at me, even after Mac walked away. “What?” I asked, wondering if I had salad dressing on my shirt or spinach in my teeth.

“Did you ever consider maybe I dress nicely so you have something pretty to look at all day?”

I stifled a laugh, nearly choking in the process. “Who are you kidding?”

He shrugged and turned back to the report Mac had handed him. “She’s on the ball.” He held out the file for me to read.

“I’m guessing that means our vic spoke to these people regularly. That these are his friends.”

“Not necessarily, but there’s a good possibility. Gardner’s roommate would know his gaming habits the best. But Golden said Gardner only played with friends. Whether that means he knew them in the real world, I don’t know.”

I scanned the list of names. “Turns out our vic and Michael Tolliver had more than just the passing interaction at work.” I handed the list

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