Grace's POV
Monday morning, the two detectives arrived at the office without warning. I looked up from my computer to find them standing at my desk, Detective Morrison with that neutral expression cops seemed to perfect, Detective Elliott scanning the office, taking in every detail.
"Ms. Wilson," Morrison said. "We need to speak with Mr. Sinclair."
My stomach dropped. "Do you have an appointment?"
"We don't need one." Morrison's tone wasn't hostile, just matter-of-fact. "This is an official investigation."
I picked up the phone, pulse hammering. Hunter answered on the first ring.
"The detectives are here to see you."
A pause. "Send them in."
"Should I—"
"Yes. Come in with them."
I set down the phone, fingers trembling slightly. "He'll see you now. Just give me one moment."
I tur
