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Scarlett’s voice is hard and cold when she asks Bowman, “Why would Lambros plan an entire scheme at the Santa Claus Con to sell a necklace? Especially a most-wanted necklace on an operation where agents and police are involved?”

Bowman raises an eyebrow. “Because it’s the perfect alibi. You’re in the middle of a competition, there’s a lot going on, several distractions. You would’ve thought your actions were accounted for.”

“They were,” I say. “You can watch me on the livestream.”

“Not the entire time,” Bowman says. “Maybe this is Lambros’s way of getting back at the FBI for last year.”

“He was cleared for that,” Scarlett interrupts.

“Careful, Payne,” Bowman says, shooting her a look. “You’re still on thin ice, and we don’t know how solid your alibi is anymore. You’ve been with Lambros this entire day. How do we know you’re not in it together?”

The words pierce somewhere vulnerable. Somewhere insecure. This is exactly why I didn’t want Scarlett to be a part of my mess, to be my alibi, to be my anything. Now she’s implicated, her own badge at risk.

Scarlett shakes her head. “Our reason for doing this being…?”

“Motive, means, and opportunity,” Bowman theorizes. “Lambros, you needed the money, and, Payne, you hated being desked. What better way to get back into the field than to be ‘summoned’ by some evil Santa on the loose? Or maybe you were in it together from the very start last year.”

“As I explained during last year’s investigation,” I say evenly, “I was in Hawaii when the jewels were stolen and replaced in California. Payne was in the hospital—”

“You did leave Maui early, didn’t you?” Bowman asks.

“Only because of something that had already happened.”

“I can’t believe this. We’re in here while Arnold is loose in there,” Scarlett says. “Potentially with a bomb! Clearly, Sadistic Santa wanted you to find the plans in Lambros’s apartment. He set this all up. I’m baffled, honestly, by how easily you’re falling for it.”

She’s pushing it. She doesn’t seem to care.

“I don’t think any of this is as clear as you’re making it sound. You’re close to this,” Bowman says. “Too close, if what you went on the record saying is true.”

“Everything I’ve said is true, but no one seems to believe us.” Scarlett grunts and leans back against the seat. “We should’ve never gotten on the boat. Those chickens tried to warn us.”

Bowman pushes his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. “You got Lambros out of a bad situation once, Payne. Actually, more than once, per the reports.”

“Yeah, we’re a holly jolly criminal couple,” Scarlett says, dropping her head in her hands. “The merriest Bonnie and Clyde there ever was.”

Bowman narrows his eyes at her. “We can’t be too careful. You two are off this operation, effective immediately. I’m putting new agents on this.”

“Sir, do what you need to do,” I say. “But leave Scarlett out of this. With Icicle back in the picture, this is about my past operation. She had nothing to do with any of that.”

“Except that she was on the boat. She was in Hawaii. She was there at New Year’s,” Bowman says. “You two always seem to conveniently end up in the same place at the same time.”

He checks his phone where a call’s coming in.

“Sir, I have more questions,” I say, knowing I’m one more question away from being written up for insubordination.

“So do we,” he says. “You can rest assured we’ll be answering every one of them.” He steps out of the car to take the call.

A muffled groan comes out of Scarlett. “Lambros, stop. You don’t have to protect me. We’ve managed to get this far. The hotel is still intact. Innocents are still alive. We did something good, and we did it together. Please don’t push me away this time. Don’t disappear. Don’t quit on us.”

I know how this goes. With investigations in the FBI, you need evidence for your evidence. Right now, we’ve got nothing. Arnold isn’t on the cameras. We are. His fingerprints aren’t all over maps and riddles or presents. Mine are.

The best gift I can give Scarlett is to keep her safe from all this. Only if she’s free can she help people. She still has a chance.

But then it hits me that Scarlett doesn’t need protection or saving. Never has, really. And she’s never going to let this go. She’s stubborn and she knows what she wants, and she listens to her gut. She’s never going to let me go.

Pushing her away last year kept her safe. Or so I thought. But then she had to go and insert herself into the investigation, become my alibi.

Nothing I do—we do—can keep each other safe.