Daphne's social awkwardness vanished in the face of Emily's certainty. "Has Mrs. Reynolds done something?"

"So you do know who she is?"

"I've kept my ear to the ground. I understand she made some unkind remarks to Ms. Mills last month."

"She's bitter, and she's trouble."

"Has she approached Ms. Mills since then?"

Mrs. W. sniffed. "Not that Louisa's said. But I still think she's trouble."

"I appreciate your input."

"You're a good girl. You listen, and you didn't just brush me off. So I'll add a bit of advice."

Although she'd left a pregnant woman waiting on her waffle, Daphne couldn't resist talking to Mrs. W. for a few more moments. "I'd appreciate it."

"You hang in there with Landon."

"Oh. Well, like I said, he's great." She gave herself a mental eye roll but continued on. "I'm enjoying his company."

"You do more than enjoy it. You keep him in line and make sure he gets out of that place in his head he spends way too much time in."

Daphne hadn't ever been a particularly good liar, and she refused to play dumb at the incredibly accurate description that matched all she'd already observed of the man. "Got it."

"That man is a catch and a half. But he's way more stubborn, far too quiet, and more suspicious than anyone gives him credit for."

"Got it." Daphne added a head nod this time, for good measure.

"So don't go giving in to him. Go head-to-head and give it all right back. He wants to be stubborn, you knock him on his ass."

"She's already done that, Mrs. W."

The social mortification Daphne had managed to tamp down came roaring back to life. "Landon."

"You two look like you're planning a big museum heist or world domination. I'm not sure which."

"You're so funny." Mrs. W. pulled him close for a hug. With no attempt to whisper, she pointed toward Daphne. "Don't mess things up with this one. She's a keeper."

Well aware she'd nearly messed things up all on her own, Daphne glanced down at the waffle she held. "Let me make Evie's waffle delivery, and I'll be right back."

The delightful Evie already had her hands up as Daphne reached her, her smile bright and her eyes glazed as she stared at the waffle in pregnant avarice. "This looks amazing."

"I added extra whipped cream."

"You're a goddess."

Daphne debated sitting down when the hidden pocket of her dress buzzed. "I'm sorry, if you'd excuse me for a minute."

She moved to a corner of the room and pulled out her work cell. Although she hated to check during the party, and she was off duty, she couldn't just skip the message. The call had already gone to voice-mail so she quickly switched screens and saw the precinct dispatch number as the source of the message.

She hit play and a message came through from dispatch outlining the location and the details.

Daphne listened, then replayed the message. As she did, she let her gaze scan the room, from the various family friends she'd met, on to Landon's actual family. His mother stood laughing with Nick and Emma while Landon still stood in close conversation with Mrs. W.

They were blithely unaware she was even on the phone, let alone taking a call that affected them.

As if he sensed her gaze on him, Landon looked up and met her eyes. His own eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed up in a straight line as he excused himself, helping Mrs. W. to a seat before he walked over.

"What is it?"

"There was another break-in at your office."

Twelve.

"Gretchen." Louisa Mills's hushed remark hung in the air as they all stood around the lobby of Landon's office. Daphne had secured some quick backup from a local officer on patrol to do an initial scan, but after clearing the space and ensuring no one was there, she sent the woman on her way.

She now stood in a small circle of Landon's family, their reactions careening between shock and anger before continuing right on to confusion.

Why would Gretchen do this?

Did she do this?

Did someone set her up?

It was Emma who'd asked the last, just distant enough from the situation to see it with a higher degree of clarity.

"The woman's a problem." Nick waved at the mess on the floor. "Reynolds made it clear from her very first outreach to Mom that she wanted to ruin her borough-presidency run. Looks like she's extended her menace to breaking and entering as well."

"So she left a calling card to do it?" Emma remained reasonable, even as stubborn flares seemed to shimmer in the air around her.

"It's madness." Louisa walked around the small space, careful to keep her hands to herself. "She's so hateful. So determined."

Landon pulled his mother close. "And whether we like it or not, very possibly set up. Most criminals don't leave a hoity-toity calling card."

"No." Louisa shook her head, blinking back the light sheen of tears in her eyes. "No, they don't. But who would know to leave her card? Or get her card in the first place? Despite her threats, she hasn't gone public with her accusations about me. Who would do this?"

Daphne had wondered the same but was still gathering impressions of the scene. The break-in had a half-assed quality, as if for show instead of real damage. A few items scattered around, haphazard and rushed. Messes that were more surface clutter than true destruction.

And the two stolen servers, perched atop the counter that filled the small lobby, a calling card strategically placed on top so as not to be missed.

So how did Gretchen Reynolds fit?

Landon had remained quiet since they walked in. Once she'd given him the all clear he'd walked the space, visually checking equipment and workstations. Other than confirming to her that things looked intact, he'd stayed silent.

The past few days edged her thoughts as she watched him with his family, participating, yet on the fringes, too. This was his space-his business. Yet he seemed more concerned about his mother than fixing what was his. Was he angry? Frustrated? Offended? Nothing showed.

She'd never been fully comfortable with silence. While she hated cliches, she could hardly argue with the hot-blooded Italian moniker that had been tossed at her and her family more than once. They were big and loud and boisterous and tended to approach life in animated conversation.

Landon seemed to do his level best to blend into the background.

Which was laughable.

The man simply did not blend in.

While she'd fully admit to being smitten, acknowledging his raw presence wasn't about attraction. It was about the simple fact that Landon McGee was an impressive, imposing figure in his silence. She'd seen it from the first moment, when she'd arrived to find him sprawled in one of the lobby chairs with his computer perched on his lap, and the impressions had only grown since then.

The tall build with the broad shoulders. The quiet calm, even in the face of a swirling storm. And the subtle, determined sense of forward movement, even as he looked as still as a lake at dawn.

He was a puzzle. Even though he'd let her in, she couldn't shake the sense that he'd buck and claw if she attempted to put too many of the pieces together.

Dismissing those thoughts and the surprisingly bleak wind they blew through her chest, Daphne left Landon and his family to their quiet moments. Their low conversation whispered from the front area, but in the still of Sunday afternoon she had an opportunity to observe the larger loft space without distraction.

The same line of computers she'd catalogued on Wednesday sat like soldiers all along the tables that served as workstations. There were three rows in all, each seating about ten, based on the current design. There was room for more people, but the space now felt orderly. Add on the natural light that flooded the area with warmth, and it made for an appealing picture.

She'd already checked the doors, and nothing appeared broken. The cameras would come next, but based on the lack of information they'd provided earlier in the week, she didn't have high hopes of discovering much useful detail.

Which left the questions.

Kelsey, the young designer who'd called in the break-in, sat with her boyfriend, huddled at the end of the third row of desks. Her bohemian clothes were at direct odds with Daphne's bright summer print dress, but if she even noticed a woman in a sundress was questioning her, she didn't acknowledge it when Daphne pulled out a seat beside her.

"Can you walk me through what happened?"

"Pete and I were walking home from brunch and I wanted to show him a project I was working on. I had a big break on Friday in the design, and I've been itching to get back to it, but it's the weekend and with one thing after another . . ." She turned to Pete, her eyes wide. "Oh my God! What if we'd walked in when the guy was here?"

"You think it was a guy?"

"Yeah. Sure." The vigorous head nods faded as Kelsey seemed to reconsider the question. "I mean, yeah."

"Why? Any specific impression?"

"No. I mean, it's stereotypical, but nothing stands out that makes me think it's a man." She turned to her boyfriend as if for reassurance. "You feel it's a guy, though? Don't you feel it, Pete?"

He shrugged, his concern more for the flustered Kelsey than the nameless, faceless intruder who'd returned the stolen items.

Daphne asked a few more questions, took down contact info for Kelsey and Pete, and let them go on their way. Other than their ill-timed arrival, it was more than obvious the two of them weren't involved in whatever had happened.

Landon came up behind her as she scribbled the last of her notes from the quick interview. "Kelsey's a sweetheart. Good worker, keeps her head down. Ben's been really pleased with her."

Daphne heard the subtle notes of defensiveness layered in and around the sweetheart description and couldn't resist a subtle poke at Landon. "A sweetheart, is she? Should Pete be worried?"

"She's a kid."

"Relax, Ace. I'm just giving you a hard time."

He did as she ordered, the tight lines that bracketed his mouth fading when he finally registered she was teasing. "Kelsey's not a troublemaker is all I'm trying to say."

"And who is Ben?"

"One of the other owners who rents space here. He hired Kelsey last year, and she's moved up quickly. He thinks the world of her."

"Enough that he'd ask her to come in here and mess up a few of your things? Put your servers back?"

Landon's still waters rippled at the query. "What? No!"

"It's a logical question. No sign of forced entry, and people here understand what your computer equipment holds."

"My suitemates aren't involved in this."

She'd never fully mastered the tactic, but Daphne found that the ability to divert questions to others often paid dividends. The sheer defense-and Landon's obvious inability to see his colleagues as involved in the break-in-was helpful.

"I don't think Kelsey did it either." Daphne closed her small notebook as if to punctuate that point.

"Damn right." His gaze grew speculative. "But nicely done, Detective."

"It's my job." She laid a soft hand on his forearm. "And that sort of defense of another person goes a long way."

"I notice you haven't lumped me in with this morning's break-in. You don't think I'm involved?" Although his face remained impassive, something dark and wicked flickered to life in his eyes.

"I know what you were doing this morning."

He edged in closer, the heat of his body searing hers. "You don't think I could have hired someone?"

Daphne got into the game, even as that need he hadn't fully sated flared to life once more. "It's an interesting strategy. Set the break-in, then seduce the cop assigned. I have to say, you should be awfully glad you didn't get Wilson."

"Who's Wilson?"

"The other detective on duty last Wednesday morning. He has a fondness for donuts and polyester. Deeply seducible, if you ask me."

"Witch."

Satisfied she had the upper hand and still reveling in the warmth of his body, she returned to the break-in. "What I can't figure out is why anyone would risk coming back here. You said yourself the loss of the servers wasn't the end of the world. Neither is it a particularly expensive loss. Yet now you have them back. Someone had to break in in order to do that."

Their quiet moment vanished, Landon glanced toward his family, still milling around the front area. "With a new problem tacked right on top of them."

"Yes."

"Why would she do it?" Landon asked. His large frame seemed to electrify at the words, nervous energy spilling from him as he wandered around the workstations nearby.

She watched him, curious when he straightened chairs and nudged the limited desktop clutter into place. "You're in Camp Gretchen, too?"