“Me too! The restaurant thing, not the driving thing. What’s your favorite restaurant?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one.” I pulled a tissue-wrapped snow globe out of the box I was opening, dipped it so that the snow flew, and showed it to her. She nodded to the keep pile. “I can’t say I have a favorite restaurant. Just favorite dishes.”

She looked at a postcard with a crayon drawing on it. “Even better. Which ones?”

“Well, let’s see. I like the cavatelli with braised rabbit at Lucrezia’s.”

She was nodding. “Their gnocchi is in my top ten.”

“Yes. And for steaks I like Cl—”

“Clove and Cleaver,” she said, finishing my sentence without looking up.

I smiled. “I love their jalapeno poppers.”

“And the fried green tomatoes.”

I laughed. “Yes.”

She put the postcard in the keep pile. “I am a huge foodie. I almost fainted once in Rome after a PA wanted to eat at McDonald’s. If someone invites me to lunch, and they take me to Taco Bell or something, it’s no longer an outing, it’s a kidnapping. Small business, all the way—except Chipotle,” she added. “I do like Chipotle.”

I chuckled, because I was the same way. Every time I took Mom out to eat and she wanted to go to Perkins, I died a little inside. I preferred supporting small businesses too. And why would you get something mass produced when you could try someplace unique? There are a finite amount of meals in this life and wasting one on something mundane when you have the means to have anything different is a travesty.

“Have you ever been to Badger Den?” Vanessa asked. “In L.A.?”

I had to stare at her for a second. “You know about Badger Den?”

She looked at the front of an envelope, holding Grace against her chest. “I’ve been on their waiting list for two years.”

I blinked at her. I couldn’t believe I was sitting here talking to somebody who knew what Badger Den was. In Los Angeles, sure. But in Minnesota? The exclusive, invite-only, secret-location pop-up dinner had been on my bucket list for as long as I could remember. “I’m on their waiting list too, but I haven’t gotten in.”

She smiled. “How about we make a pact. If either of us gets into Badger Den, we’ll take the other as our plus-one.”

“You have a deal,” I said, a little too quickly.

“Of course, you’ll have to fly there. They only give you a few days’ notice.”

“I drive very, very fast.”

She laughed, setting Grace back in her swing. Then she grabbed a yellow manilla envelope and pulled out a package of sponges. She squealed. “Yeeeees! Yes yes YES!”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Sponges?”

She smiled down on them in her hand. “I did this segment on small things you can do to make you happy. Clean sheets, warm towels out of the dryer, fresh flowers in your bedroom. A new sponge.” She looked up at me. “It is amazing how restorative a new sponge is.” She got up. “I’m giving you one.”

“A sponge?” I asked, twisting to watch her walk to the kitchen.

“Yup. It’s going to change your life.” She unwrapped it and set it on the sink, tossing the old one. “It’s like a spiritual cleansing. A cosmic reset.”

“A sponge…” I deadpanned, giving her an amused look.

She looked like she was about to reply, but someone started pounding loudly on a door in the hallway. Vanessa peered up past me toward the banging. “That sounds like my door, doesn’t it?” She walked from the kitchen, undid the bolt lock, and poked her head outside. Then she looked back in at me, her face etched in worry.

“I have to go. The police are here.”

CHAPTER 8

THE POLICE SHOWED UP

AND WHAT HAPPENED NEXT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND!

VANESSA

Can I help you?” I asked, leaning halfway out of Adrian’s apartment.

The officer looked over at me. “I’m looking for a Vanessa Price.”

“I’m Vanessa.”

He glanced at a clipboard. “Do you own a white 2018 Kia Rio?”

Shit.

My heart launched into rapid fire. “Yes, is everything okay?” I swallowed.

Adrian came up behind me and peered out into the hall. “Officer Sanchez,” he said, over my shoulder. “How are you?”

Recognition crossed the cop’s face and he broke into a smile. “Copeland! You live here?”

“Going on five years,” Adrian said. “How’s the wife?”

He laughed. “Pregnant again. Haven’t seen you at the gym lately.”

“Been busy. In the middle of a jury trial. What seems to be the problem?”

Officer Sanchez looked back at me, still smiling. “Yeah, we found your car wrapped around a tree over by the fairgrounds this morning, Ms. Price. Nobody in it. Do you know anything about that?”

His posture had gone casual the moment Adrian popped out. There was nothing accusatory about the question. But I could feel my pulse thrumming in my throat anyway. “No,” I said, hoping I sounded normal.

“Did you give the vehicle to anyone to drive?”

Adrian squeezed my elbow discreetly from behind. “Sounds like it was stolen. Probably a joy ride,” he said.

Officer Sanchez looked over my head at Adrian. “The keys were in it. It wasn’t hot-wired.”

Adrian’s breath tickled my ear as he spoke to me. “Didn’t you say you lost your keys, Vanessa?”

He was coaching me. And standing sooo close. Ridiculously close. It was on purpose. He wanted the officer to think we were together.

He was lending me his credibility.

He’d known me less than a week, he knew nothing about what was going on, and he was stepping in to defend me, giving me the benefit of the doubt and protecting me from whatever repercussions there could be from this. I didn’t know why he was doing it, but I couldn’t be more grateful. I was freaking out.

I nodded. “Yeah, actually. I lost the keys a few weeks ago,” I lied. “I’ve been using the spare.”

Officer Sanchez nodded, but his eyes felt like they were studying me all of a sudden. “Where were you last night at around three a.m.?”