"Where are you?" Broadrick asked me over the phone the next day. I'd snuck out of the house on an emergency errand.

The worst thing about having a boyfriend who lived in the same town was how he figured out all my tricks super fast. Shouldn't it have taken him longer? I'd barely gotten my car parked across the road from the high school before he called.

I tapped my finger on the steering wheel. "Just waiting for a friend. When I get back, we can grab a late lunch."

Sure, he annoyed the crap out of me when he foiled my plans, but he bought me food. So the good outweighed the bad. I'd keep him around.

Broadrick waited a beat before answering, like he wanted to hear background noises to catch me in a lie, but I wasn't lying. Well... Mostly. We weren't friends yet, but we might be.

"Try to stay out of trouble until then."

I scoffed and hoped he heard. "It wasn't that bad."

"Vonnie, a priest caught us making out in a church parking lot," he said with horror still etched in his words. "In the middle of the afternoon."

Dramatic.

"B, he's a visiting pastor. He's not even our real guy. It will be fine." Broadrick worried about his reputation, but I was pretty sure it went against church law to share our confessions. Or something like that.

We were fine.

Katy did way worse in a church once.

With Pierce.

I'd covered my ears while she tried to tell me the details. No one needed details with so much detail. Eww.

"Don't forget we have a meeting later today with the new dog walker," he said.

"I didn't forget," I lied. I totally forgot. Never crossed my mind.

A bell rang at the school as a warning I had to act fact.

I popped in a piece of grape gum and chomped it quickly to get it started. "Hey, I've got to go. I see my friend."

"This friend better not be a drug lord, Von."

I laughed and almost swallowed the gum. "Of course not."

Only a home-wrecker. Allegedly.

Broadrick hung up, and I slid out of the car, doing my best not to look suspicious. The school had a large fence blocking off their courtyard from the sidewalk, but I leaned against it and waited.

My future BFF-for Broadrick's sake-didn't leave me waiting for long. Renee Brown, suspected child lover to Coach Torres, walked out of the school two minutes later. I studied her Facebook picture to memorize her features. It made it easier to stalked... er, recognize her. She had long, dark hair that almost had a blue sheen when the sun hit it directly. Actually, she might have dyed sections blue. I kind of liked it.

Students piled out after her. On a gorgeous spring day when the temperatures rose above fifty, everyone wanted to be outside. Nothing had changed since I'd attended the same high school. Lunch breaks were the one period during the day when you had enough time to get outside and let the sun's rays warm your skin. It's a Maine thing. You had to live in a frozen wasteland most of the year to really understand what a good ray of sun did for the soul.

Two other students walked beside Renee as they descended the steps to the main yard. A male with blond hair and a thick build followed close enough behind her to look like part of the group. He stopped at the end of the staircase and kissed her cheek before turning to the right and joining a group of other well-built teenagers. They had to be sports players of some sort. Football probably, but even a lineman knew how to swing a bat. Any of them might have struck out Coach Torres for Renee.

I eyed them for a moment, trying to see if any of them came off as murderous, but they just appeared to be an average group of jocks. Darn. No home run in this crew.

Renee stopped walking beside the flagpole in the middle of the courtyard, but it wasn't close enough for me to speak to her. I tried to make eye contact and lull her over, but she stayed in constant contact with her friend circle.

She just had to make it difficult. I rolled my eyes and gave my gum another good chomp of annoyance.

"Renee Brown!" I yelled. If I embarrassed her, she'd do her best to get rid of me quickly. Classic PI tactic. "Anyone see Renee Brown?"

Half the people stared at me immediately. The other half turned slowly.

Renee's face turned a bright shade of red before her gaze even settled on me, and then she hustled over to the fence without a sideways glance at anyone else.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked once she could speak without yelling. Her head darted back and forth to make sure people weren't staring.

Most of them weren't. The really nosy ones held out for a something good to happen.

One of the two girls Renee had with her in the courtyard-more than likely the nosier of the two-came to stand beside her.

"What's up, home girls?" I asked, leaning against the fence and blowing a bubble.

Renee and her blonde friend both crinkled their faces. They were going to have weird wrinkles if they kept that up. It also wasn't my job to warn them.

"No one says that anymore," the blonde one said in disgust. You'd think I'd spit on them or something.

Renee flipped her black hair over her shoulder. "How old are you?"

I touched my face. Did I look old? What made them ask that? Did I have weird face crinkle wrinkles and not know it? After this, I had to head to the store and buy some liquor. Just to make sure they carded me.

"We need to talk," I said, motioning to Renee and hoping her friend got the hint and left.

She didn't.

"Can you make it quick?" Renee asked, casting another nervous glance behind her.

I did a hair toss as well-just to prove that we'd all mastered the move-and then had to pull a few blonde strands from my mouth as the wind blew them in front of my face. "Have you heard about Torres?"

Renee's friend snorted. "Have we heard? Yes, everyone knows about Coach Torres. Are you stupid?"

Wow, rude much?

I turned my attention from the annoying friend to focus on Renee. She was the reaction I wanted to see. And hers told me so much more.

Renee blinked hard and bit her lips together as if she was holding back tears just from a simple mention of the couch. "The school brought in a counselor to talk to students, but how can she help?"

Her friend shook her head. "I just can't believe Allen killed him and they're still letting him in the school. What if he tries to kill one of us? That's the tragedy here."

Wow. Was I this self-absorbed in high school? Possibly.

No. I shook my head. Definitely not this bad.

"Renee," I said, making sure her friend realized the questions were for Renee and not her. "I heard you and Coach Torres were possibly more than friends."

I wanted her to fill in the gap, but she only gasped with a hand on her chest and a tear gathered in the corner of her eye. "Coach Torres was my first crush."

"Was?"

She nodded slowly, as if she remembered the time fondly and not that she almost got the poor man fired and then possibly killed him. "Yeah, that's old news," she said with a hand wave at me when she returned to the present. "It was a crush."

I popped my gum again, still making sure I fit in with the cool kids.

"I met Jaiden, and now I've experienced what true love feels like." Her eyes turned wishful. "He's so romantic."

Sure. Sure. "True love. That's great. Does your new love have any issues with anger?"

Both girls whipped their gazes at me as I popped another bubble to play it cool. "Jaiden would never hurt Coach Torres. It might destroy his football career. They're already talking about scholarships. There's a chance that by this time next year I'll be dating a college-bound football player."

"I see," I said with a headshake. Ah, to be young and in love. She was only one Dear Jane email away from heartbreak. Not that I was still holding a grudge against Broadrick about it or anything. "You wrote Mr. Torres notes?"

She cringed again with that super sucked-in face. Where did they learn that? TikTok?

"Yeah, and those were private, but then he turned them into the school board. They showed them to my mom," she said, sounding horrified. "She made me go to counseling."

Sounded like she had a good mom.

"So, you or Jaiden didn't kill him?" I had to ask the tough questions.

She went all crinkle face on me. "Eww. No. I tried to avoid Coach Torres."

"He was old," her friend chimed in.

Renee agreed with a head nod. A too enthusiastic head nod.

Did they think everyone was old?

I mean, Coach Torres had a few years on me, but they acted like getting older was the worst thing to happen to a person. If that was their opinion, I had disappointing news for them. Bills were worse. Also, having to decide what to eat for lunch every day took way more energy than I expected.

"Jaiden and I have a deep connection. He's the only person I need," Renee said and twisted at her waist to get a good look at the love of her life.

"All righty then. Thanks for the help. I wish you two lots of love." And super weird wrinkles when they eventually got old. "That's all I wanted to know. See you around."

I stepped away from the fence with a wave toward the girls but still heard her friend when she said, "Let's hope not. Did you see her hair?"

Rude.

Yeah, I was a much better high schooler. Still, I'd learned a lot from the convo. And my hair was fine.

I didn't have time to worry about Renee's incorrect impression of my hair. There were things to think about, and the best place to do that was at work. At least then I'd be making money as I stared at the bright pink walls of the bakery. It was also the best place to hear any new gossip.

I drove that way and parked out front since I was only helping with a quick lunch rush. Anessa needed the help at the busy times but didn't always need to pay us to stand around in the nonbusy parts of the day. Having a job I bounced into randomly for a fast shift worked wonderfully for my PI schedule.

Anessa owned the Bakery at the Bay, and when she'd leased the building from Pierce a few years ago, he said she could paint it whatever she wanted. I bet he did not expect the bright shade of pink she'd chosen and then accessorized with as well. Anessa loved pink, and she let that love shine through like a demented Barbie obsession.

I kind of loved it.

"Hey, lady," I said to the boss in question as I walked through the front door.