Matthew shut his laptop with a click. “While you and Duke do the detective work, we’ll keep things moving on the podcast front. Prep and edits for the next case we’ll feature.”
“Perfect,” Andi said. “And I’d like to stop by Gina’s law office. Maybe someone there knows something.”
Duke gave her an approving nod.
They all knew this split worked best—part of the team digging and the other part holding down the machine that kept them moving city to city.
Andi lifted her mug again, warmth seeping into her palms.
She had no idea yet who Fake Pam was or what game she was playing.
But Andi intended to find out more.
She wouldn’t give up until she did.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
A sharp knockcut through the room.
Duke and Andi exchanged a glance as Ranger opened the door.
Rupert swept inside, phone in one hand and a cardboard carrier of energy drinks in the other. “Okay—quick pivot. We’re adjusting the afternoon schedule, and I need everyone aligned on messaging before the next appearance.”
He began setting cans down one by one like punctuation marks.Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Caffeine,” Rupert said brightly. “You’re welcome.”
Duke didn’t want to get caught up in Rupert’s whirlwind of stress—not when they had other important things to do.
He edged closer to Andi, lowering his voice. “We should go.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Her gaze flicked toward the door.
Across the room, Mariella must have caught onto their body language. She gave them the smallest nod.Go.
Rupert was still talking. “We’ll need tighter turnaround between segments, and I want to emphasize engagement—real-time engagement?—”
“Oh,” Mariella interrupted smoothly, stepping in front of him. “Before you finish that thought, you have to see this.”
Rupert paused.
Matthew popped up, tablet in hand. “I reorganized the schedule. Color-coded. By platform. With contingencies.”
Rupert leaned in, interest instantly piqued. “Is that blue for social and green for broadcast?”
“Yes,” Matthew said. “Yes, I thought it would be easier to keep straight that way.”
Rupert gasped softly. “That makesso muchsense.”
While his attention locked onto the screen, Andi and Duke slid past the doorframe. Duke pulled the door closed quietly behind them, the click of the latch barely audible over Rupert’s renewed enthusiasm.
Rupert’s voice rose half an octave. “Wait—no—who approvedthatfont?”
Duke fought a smile but didn’t look back.
He and Andi made it to the elevator just in time to hear Rupert’s frantic protest about branding integrity.
