"A girl? What girl?" I asked.

It sounded like Mrs. Torres might have been correct in her cheating allegations against her husband. Err...ex-husband.

"Yeah, Renee was obsessed with Coach Torres last year. I don't think they were dating, but she gave him love notes."

"Renee who?" Nobody in this town ever gave you actually good information like last names, places of birth, social security numbers. Things that might be useful. "And obsessed how?"

Images of Coach Torres voodoo dolls danced in my head. Renee-whatever she looked like-stalking him at night with a long zoom lens attached to her camera. His home broken into as she searched for a memento to keep of their adulterous affair. I hoped she'd taken video or photograph evidence of them in bed together.

"Renee Brown. She scribbled Renee Torres all over her notebooks. One day she even used a permanent Sharpie and drew it on her jeans."

Not the level of weird I'd pictured, but enough for me to work with. "What happened?"

I tucked my phone under my ear and paced in a circle around Broadrick and NB as they lounged on the couch. Broadrick gave the dog deep ear scratches, and NB lapped up the attention. He didn't even beg for a treat. Traitor.

If someone caught Torres and Renee making out in a school hallway and then Renee vowed to get revenge on Coach Torres after he left her, I'd consider the case a slam dunk.

"I don't know," Vivi said, and I pictured her classic younger sister's annoying shrug. Nothing ever came easy in detective work. "She moved on to Jaiden Affel this year. The two of them starting dating over Christmas break."

Broadrick snuggled his face against NB's and let the dog lick his cheek. I turned away from their blatant display of stolen affection. "Did Renee seem upset about Coach Torres before Jaiden?"

"Not really. You're going to prove Allen's innocent. Right?" Unlike our mother, Vivi's ask wasn't a demand but filled with hope. We might not have gotten along all the time, but she believed in me.

I stopped in front of my living room window and stared out at the mansions on the other side of the road. "I'll see what I can do."

My shoulders fell. No one said no to Vivi. Something about her made you want to help in any way possible. Even if this case might not turn out the way she wanted, I'd figure out if Allen had anything to do with the death of Coach Torres.

"Allen isn't handling this well, Vonnie. I don't know what we'll do if he's convicted."

Break up. Hopefully. My mother and I didn't agree on much, but she was right on one thing. My sister couldn't date a convicted murderer. Suspected? Sure, but not convicted.

Coffee smells invaded my senses as Broadrick and his cup of brew came to stand behind me. "I'm going to do more digging today. If Allen is innocent, I'll find the evidence to clear his name."

We said our goodbyes, and I tucked the phone in my back pocket before resting my head on Broadrick's shoulder. NB scratched at my legs wanting up, so I added him to the family hug.

"What was that about?" Broadrick asked as he finished his coffee.

I shook my head and closed my eyes for a beat. "My mother deciding I'm useful when it fits her needs."

Broadrick laughed and stole NB from me as he held him and walked his dirty cup to the kitchen. "Von, wait till you meet my mother."

My tummy fluttered at his belief I'd eventually meet his mom. I followed behind and watched as he rinsed the cup out and put it in the dishwasher without letting go of NB. These moves looked practiced. They'd definitely done this before. "Is she exasperating?"

"No, but she likes to hug, so don't get too close."

I grimaced, and he laughed. New rule: Never meet Broadrick's mother.

"What's your plan for the day?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

Now came the tricky part of having Broadrick in Pelican Bay. "Not much."

NB wiggled in B's arms, and he put the pooch down, letting him run to the back door, which I opened for him to take his seventh morning potty break. "It's never not much."

"A little breaking and entering. Standard stuff. Nothing for you to worry about."

Broadrick dropped his head.

"No, really, B. It's cool. I have a plan." He never waited to hear the plan.

**

It only took me fifteen minutes to outline my plan and then talk Broadrick into going along with it.

Well...

I didn't so much talk him into it as I told him I planned to leave the house in five minutes and he finally gave in.

Either way, the outcomes were similar.

Broadrick parked across the road from the school so not to arouse suspicion. I planned to walk around the block and approach my spot from the other side.

"You can't do this kind of thing while I'm gone," Broadrick said, with his gaze fixed on the steering wheel. We hadn't talked about his upcoming mission and departure, but it was on both our minds.

But worrying about this wasn't his responsibility. Sure, he was in Pelican Bay now, but that wasn't always the case. "B, I've been doing this stuff for years."

Granted, I spent four years sneaking out of the high school building and not into it, but again minor details. It was basically the same thing, only in reverse.

He tapped the steering wheel three times-a classic sign he'd started to overthink things.

"It's a weekend. No one is even in the building. Don't worry," I said and hesitated at the door, waiting for him to lock it on me.

He didn't. "I always worry."

I opened the door. "Stay in the car." He rarely listened to me, but I did not want Broadrick learning my methods. He definitely wouldn't agree with them.

"Planned on it, babe," he said and sent me a smile that instantly made my tummy clench in a good way.

"Good thinking. Plausible deniability." Smart.

I shut the car door and walked down the block to make it look like I intended to visit the bakery. The school had a line of trees planted to block off their area from the rest of the street, and I slipped between them to round on the school from the backside.

When I hit the closest point available, I dashed across the opening and ran to the edge of the building. The bricks scratched against my back as I moved toward the access point. I ducked under the three windows before I got to the one I wanted, and then at the art room I wiggled the window to cause the catch to release. The pane lowered, and I squeezed myself into the building feet first. They landed in the big brush washing sink, and I quickly climbed out.

The art room stood empty. I sniffed-drying paint. Did every art room smell like a bad kindergarten painting project or just the one in Pelican Bay? The new art teacher had painted all the tables like different planets. I admired the work as I walked through the room, letting my fingers roll over the rough texture of Mar's paint job.

I opened the door quickly and stepped into the hallway, walking down the middle of it since time wasn't an issue. The arts wing of the school had wide hallways and no lockers lining the walls like many of the others. At the far end of the hallway were the sports locker rooms and the support staff offices-otherwise known as my destination.

The janitors had pushed large black trashcans against the wall every few doors, and I skirted past one left out in the middle before turning back to push it into place. A squeak came from another hallway and I froze. Was that for me? A giant mouse? A man-eating rat? Please let it be a giant rat.

The squeak came again, sounding like a broken wheel on a cart. My heart rate kicked up as panic hit my arteries. To my left was the band room. I tried the doorhandle but it didn't budge. Someone had to lock up all those expensive instruments. Damn it.

The squeak drew closer, and I backtracked to duck behind the trash can. The cart moaned its way along the hallway, and my ears tickled with the noise. My quads burned as I hovered on my haunches. I peeked around the barrel, and my hair rustled against the trash bag. The janitor pushed his cart across the opening of the hallway, and I pulled my head back so he didn't see me.

If he turned down the hallway, there'd be no way he wouldn't find me. If I'd left the trash can alone, I would have been able to shimmy my way around it and hide my presence, but my good deed left me a sitting duck.

What the hell was the janitor doing in the school on the weekend?