It was nearly 4 am when the doorbell rang, waking Bobby but only causing Sophie to stir slightly. The option of ignoring their early guest quickly disappeared as the ringing persisted. Someone was leaning heavily on the bell.

"What the fuck?" Sophie demanded, finally sitting up.

"I'll get it," Bobby offered, his voice gruff with sleep. He pulled himself out of bed, leaving Sophie still trying to gather herself. As he hurried down the stairs the ringing grew more frequent until Bobby threw the door open, startling John away from the button. The latter was dressed in his sweats with a winter jacket and boots overtop.

"John, it's nearly 4.30," Bobby prompted, looking closely at John's boots for a moment before turning his attention back to the man.

"I know. Charles was shot a couple of hours ago." John slipped past him, hurrying into the living room where he shed his jacket. A few moments later Sophie appeared at the foot of the stairs with one of Bobby's dress shirts over her pajamas.

"What the fuck, John?" She groused taking a seat on the couch next to her 'husband.'

"Charles is dead."

"What?" That line woke her up.

"He answered the door at his house and was shot. Bled out for a couple of hours, by the time someone found him he was dead."

"Any idea who did it?" Bobby asked.

"Not a clue. The cops are working on it."

"He didn't have anything incriminating in the house did he?" Sophie interjected.

"Everything was well hidden. We're going to meet down at the club later to discuss what needs to be done."

"Gregory and Fred know yet?"

"I'm heading over there next, just wanted to let you two know," John seemed to still be in shock, he quietly stood and walked to the door.

"Hey, you okay?" Sophie asked, getting up and following him.

"Fine. Just wasn't the call I was expecting tonight. I'll see you later."

Bobby remained seating on the couch, waiting for Sophie to lock the door and retake her seat, resting against the arm and tucking her legs underneath her.

"What are you thinking?" She asked after a few moments passed.

"Whoever shot him wanted him to suffer."

"Nicole?"

"When he talked about her the other night it sounded more like unrequited love turned bitter on his part. She couldn't have been too angry with him that she would accept an offer, arrive and kill him."

"Unless she took him up on the offer with the expressed purpose of ousting him."

"True. I wouldn't put is past her." Bobby fell silent again, lost in thought. "Soph—"

He couldn't help but grin when he realized that she had drifted back to sleep. Carefully he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to bed. Once Sophie was situated Bobby found himself in the den. He was thinking, slowly pacing the length of the room as he tried to put the pieces together. Something about this all didn't seem quite right. It wouldn't be beyond Nicole to kill someone without reason. Maybe there was a conflict between the two that wasn't public knowledge. It could easily be someone else. Nicole didn't seem partial to using guns. Knives and poison, meticulously planned deaths were more her style. This crime was someone action off the cusp or at the very least had the appearance of impetuous. Besides, if a friend committed the crime the shot would have been more personal, like the heart or the head. Stomach was revenge, someone hoping to inflict pain.

A few hours later the blare of the alarm clock woke Sophie. She pulled herself from bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Glancing back into the room she realized there was no arm wrapped around her, keeping her from getting out of bed. She couldn't remember how she had gotten back upstairs. Curiosity as to where Bobby went drew her into the hallway where she noticed the den light on.

Sure enough Bobby had sprawled out on the sofa, his long legs dangling over the edge while his arms were crossed over his chest. Holding back her laughter, Sophie took a seat on the edge of the coffee table near his head.

"Bobby," she called softly, resting a hand on his cheek before sliding it up to smooth his hair, "Bobby."

Finally he began to stir; slowly blinking his eyes open to focus on her. It seemed to take him a moment to remember why he was sleeping in the den.

"What time is it?"

"A little after seven. You didn't come back to bed last night."

"No, I was thinking, couldn't get back to sleep."

"Why don't you go grab a shower and I'll make some breakfast."

"Want to conserve water?" He asked, it sounded as though he was speaking more to himself than to her. Bobby wasn't fully awake yet and didn't realize immediately that he had spoken aloud.

"Bobby, did you just flirt with me?"

"I'm not sure, did I?"

"You'll remember in a few minutes. We can conserve water together another time," she smiled before leaving the rom. Bobby stood and stretched, silently happy that Sophie had been okay with their sharing the bed, there was no way he could've survived more than one night on the too-small couch. As he made his way to the bathroom it hit him. Not only had he voiced his thoughts he had propositioned Sophie to take a shower with him.

He joined her downstairs after another chilly shower. Breakfast was quick before climbing into the SUV and heading into town.

"I should probably go in alone," Sophie suggested. "If it was Nicole she might be here. Keep my meeting with Harris."

She gave him directions to the predetermined meeting place before reaching for the door handle. Just as she was about to climb out of the car he caught her arm and pulled her across the center console for a kiss.

"You would've smudged your lipstick on a kiss goodbye," he explained when the drifted away from the embrace.

"You're a smooth one, Bobby," she grinned before crossing the street and disappearing into the same restaurant they had visited a few nights before. Sophie climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor where the three men were waiting at the table, Charles' seat was empty. John moved away from the window and took his usual seat next to Sophie.

"Should we get started?" Gregory asked.

"We're still waiting on one more," John replied.

"Where's that husband of yours?" Fred questioned Sophie.

"Running some errands, I figured he didn't need to be here."

"She decided," Fred scoffed.

"Who're we waiting for?" Sophie asked, as if she didn't already know.

"Miss Wallace arrived in town this morning."

"You can just call me Nicole," came a voice from the stairs. The group turned to see the skinny, blonde Australian woman approaching them like a tiger sizing up its next meal.

"Nice to put a face to the name," John broke the silence first, standing to shake her hand. "This is Gregory and Fred."

"Pleasure," she quirked a smile.

"And this is Sophie Duncan."

"Another woman, how lovely," Nicole smiled, shaking Sophie's hand. "I was worried it would be another boy's club."

"Don't worry, there's more than enough testosterone to go around," John joked retaking his seat.

"Yeah, my husband is just thrilled about that," Sophie smirked.

"Interesting line of work for a married woman," Nicole mused, taking the empty seat that had belonged to Charles.

"Robert was a resident of the state pen up until a few days ago," John supplied.

"You must be glad to have him home."

"Very."

"Well, let's get on to business shall we? Charles passing away is unfortunate but I think he filled me in enough that I could offer some help to keep things on track."

"You mean you're taking over?" Gregory remarked bluntly.

'That's right," Nicole smiled innocently. "I'm taking over."