![]() “You’re pining.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She crossed her arms over her uniformed chest and went back to staring at the knitting needle and the impaled man behind it. “That.” He circled an index finger, outlining her in midair. ![]() She turned to her chief deputy, the blond bank vault door known as Quincy Cooper, and asked, “Stop what?” “Stop it,” the man standing beside her said. At the tender age of early-thirty-something, Sun realized she had seen it all. Much like the forgotten bottle of dirty martini mix in the back of her cabinet. At the very least, she would’ve been concerned for the horrified man’s well-being. ![]() Normally, Sheriff Sunshine Vicram would’ve been alarmed at the sight of a knitting needle sticking out of a guy’s neck. ![]() When life hands you lemons, hand them back. ![]()
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