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cupcakes.

The rest was a blur of blue frosting, slimy noodles, and barbeque chips being mashed in my already gooey hair. The bit about the chips was courtesy of Anne, but I deserved it after stuffing a cupcake down her swimsuit and then tackling her to the floor.

Five minutes later, we lay in a pile of arms and legs on the floor, no longer throwing food but laughing. We were a mess. The kitchen was a mess.

“If my wife asks,” Ryan started to say, “everyone loved the cupcakes.”

“Good thing she’s a good baker,” I said, looking over at Whiskey and pointing. “Since someone crammed one into my mouth.”

Whiskey laughed as he used his hand to knock a pile of noodles off the top of his head.

“What in the world got into you?” Anne asked me. She was half lying across my legs, with an arm wrapped around Sara. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I have,” Charlie said from the kitchen entrance, looking down at us with a smile on her face. “Been a while, though.”

Alex, Maggie, and a woman in a pantsuit stood next to Charlie.

“The food fight at our wedding reception was way better,” Wild Card said as he picked something out of my hair and ate it.

Jackson chuckled. “There was a lot more food to throw and a lot more people to throw it.”

“This was pretty good, though,” Reggie said, wiping frosting from his left eye.

“Uhh,” Alex said, looking around and turning to the woman in the suit. “Let’s talk about that deposit,” he said, leading her from the room.

“Who was that?” I asked Charlie.

Charlie smirked. “The realtor in charge of the house rental. She stopped in to make sure we had everything we needed. I better go help Alex smooth this over.”

I couldn’t help but bark a laugh, which made everyone else start laughing again.

“Okay,” Wild Card said, crawling out of the pile and standing. His feet slid sideways on the greasy floor. He bent his knees to steady himself. “Half of you stay on the floor and gather the big bits to be tossed into the trash. The other half of you start with the counters, walls and appliances.”

“What about the ceiling?” I asked.

Everyone looked up to see blue blobs of frosting stuck to the ceiling.

“Shit,” Wild Card said, laughing. “At least our wedding reception was outside.”

“Pushups!” Nicholas and Sara said in unison.

“I’ll do my pushups when the floor is less slimy,” Wild Card said as he helped me, then Anne, then Katie up from the floor.

Everyone except the kids got up from the floor, but Sara and Nicholas didn’t care. They were both having fun as they used their bodies to slide piles of food together for Anne and Aunt Suzanne to scoop with paper plates into the trash can. We applied similar methods with the table and counters, Wild Card and I using our arms to slide the mess to one end where trash bags were held to snare it.

Then came the scrubbing, which took a lot longer. By the time we got the worst of it cleaned up, we all went outside to hose off. Afterward, the kids ran toward the pool. The rest of us went to our rooms to shower and change. We regrouped in the kitchen where we found Katie, Tech, Charlie, and Maggie finishing the final wipe down.

“Thanks,” Wild Card said to them as he pushed me toward the table. “I ordered pizzas. Jackson went to pick them up.”

 â€śWhatever happened to my sandwich?” I asked, looking toward the back counter.

Wild Card laughed. “I ate it. I snuck out of the mix and ate it while I watched the food fight.”

“You did not,” Anne said. “We would’ve seen you.”

Wild Card flashed his devilish grin at her. “Then how do I know that it was you who snuck up behind Bones and dumped the entire bowl of baked beans over his head?”

Anne’s eyes widened as she stepped closer to Whiskey.

“It was you?” Bones asked as he pointed at Anne.

Anne giggled into Whiskey’s chest. “I’m so dead.”

Charlie chuckled as she walked over and sat on the other side of the table. “Not today, you’re not. We have too much to do. And I need some help.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHARLIE

Tuesday, 3:07 p.m.

Tech ordered Kelsey and me to pause our case discussion until everyone regrouped in the tiki lounge. Not only was it a larger space, but it had a bar which most of us appreciated. Maggie made a pitcher of margaritas while Wild Card made mojitos.

“Aren’t you supposed to be catching a flight?” I asked Maggie.

“I called in sick. Between the Marshals hassling you, and Kelsey working a human trafficking case, you guys might need me. Kierson said it was fine. He also asked me to tell you hi.”

“Uh, yeah, hi.”

Maggie laughed. “Breakups are awkward,” she said, watching something across the room.

I looked over to see Grady settling on the couch next to Kelsey. She ignored him, taking a drink of her Pepsi.

“You’re the profiler,” I said to Maggie. “What do you think about that situation?”

“That situation—” she shook her head “—is beyond my abilities.”

My phone dinged that I had a text and I read the message. I walked over to Kelsey. “I invited Spence, Sergeant Quille, a rookie detective assigned to me for research, and a seasoned detective from another precinct. I need you to trust my judgment, and not cause a fuss.”

“You trust them?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Do you think I’d invite them here if I didn’t?”

She glanced over at the kids, then back at me. “I’ll play nice as long as they stay out of the house.”

I shook my head as I turned to walk away. “I’ll tell

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