3
ASSHOLE!
Anna texted Spike a string of middle finger emojis and tossed the phone on her desk. She snatched the Yarborough knife and his note, reading it again as she paced—like she’d been doing for hours. She flipped the knife in her hand, stabbed it into the desk, and dialed Nelia. “You busy?”
“No.”
“Please bring your ass to my office. Stat.” A crumpled wad of paper landed in the waste basket.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Anna was still pacing as Nelia walked through the door, toddler squirming on her hip. “Tia.” Kristin reached for Anna, honey curls bouncing. She scooped up her goddaughter and settled in her seat.
Nelia scowled and plucked the knife from the desk. “What’s the big emergency?” A diaper bag thunked on the floor.
“Apparently Spike came home last night.” Anna grabbed
