A lifetime later-or at least seven hours-I wiggled my ass in the driver's seat of my Camero and plugged my phone into the charger again.

Sometimes stakeouts were fun and full of adventure, but most of the time, they were boring. So totally boring. Especially if the entire point of the outing was just to gather intel and not find the best time to break down a door and arrest someone.

I much preferred the door breaking down parts over the sitting for endless hours parts.

Why couldn't I have more door breaking in my life?

"Come on, Broadrick," I whispered in the empty car and flipped the phone over to check my texts for the millionth time.

Not a single one. We'd gone all day without texting. He was really mad.

I'd spent at least an hour typing out different things to say to him about the headline in the paper, but none of them sounded right, so I deleted them all before sending. What did he want me to say? I didn't ask Susan for front page coverage. And I even saw his point on how stupid it was to toy with a murderer, but it wasn't entirely my fault.

Since he was the one having the dramatic-seven-hour-moment about it, I figured he needed to message first. It only made sense.

To waste more time, I used my phone to spy on my sister's boyfriend on the internet. Kids these days were posting their whole lives on apps like TikTok, and hey, if I saw a few funny cat videos along the way, even better.

One video.

Two videos.

A cat video.

I tapped my thumb on my steering wheel, and my numb butt throbbed. That and my full bladder were demanding I take a break soon. So far, nothing exciting had happened at Conner and his girlfriend's apartment complex. And Allen's TikTok was even less exciting. He mostly posted videos of his baseball plays set to random songs.

The apartment complex in front of me stayed silent. It was an older, but well taken care of building in the middle of Clearwater. The management company had the parking lot freshly paved recently, and from the carports, the place screamed money. Clearwater wasn't as close to the ocean as Pelican Bay, but the rent on the place had to set them back a decent amount.

A small red truck turned into the parking lot and parked at the next building. Not my person.

Of course, Conner had enough cash to hire a PI to track down his girlfriend's ring size rather than ask her, so I figured they had the cash to afford the complex.

Stakeouts were also super boring when the person you were supposed to be watching never showed up. Conner's notes said Lizzy should have been leaving for a college class, but she'd never come or gone.

My bladder sent me another reminder of my basic needs as I ran my thumb over the pebbled material of my steering wheel. I couldn't keep avoiding my issues forever, but I'd keep trying.

If he wasn't posting the goods on TikTok, maybe Allen left his gossip elsewhere. People told me Facebook was dead in the rest of the world, but Pelican Bay was always a few years behind. We still used it daily, and so did most of the kids.

Beyond the bathroom break, I also needed to check on NB and deal with the cranky boyfriend. Eventually.

I found Vivi's online profile and then clicked through her friends, finding Allen's profile.

Bingo.

He had tons of post set to public. The first three were of baseball news from the pros, and as I scrolled, my mind wandered.

How did I apologize to Broadrick without actually apologizing?

I scrolled past Allen's post about the Baseball Hall of Fame inductees.

Maybe if I bought him a tent. No, what if then he asked me to camp with him? What did SEAL types like? We'd never been big on gifts before. Being a long-distance couple meant most gifts came in the form of plane tickets and time spent together.

I didn't have the experience I needed in navigating these waters.

Another post from Allen about how baseball needed another play off slot. He really needed a second hobby.

Plus, I still wasn't a hundred percent sure it was my job to apologize for what Susan did. Was it?

Ohh, an idea hit me, and I switched from Facebook on my phone to an empty browser window.

I'd order him a pair of L.L. Bean boots and stick a bottle of maple syrup in them. You didn't get more Maine than that combo. Plus, then we'd have to make pancakes, and I loved pancakes with real maple syrup.

The website loaded on my phone as an older model white van parked beside my car. Since it wasn't listed as a car Conner or Lizy drove, I ignored it and almost lowered my head back to my phone.

Something stopped me.

My stomach tightened and gave me the vibe this vehicle had more to tell, so I waited and watched.

A middle-aged man with flecks of gray in his dark hair stepped out of the van and beeped his key fob to lock it. All normal. Until I took in his uniform. A full-piece body suit in dark blue-a janitor. He wore thick boots that were half covered by the bottoms of his pants, but the Pelican Bay school logo screen printed on the back of the uniform told me everything I needed to know.

Sketchy. Sketchy.

He turned around once to check on the van as he walked toward the building, and I buried my face in my phone so he didn't get a good look at me. In case I had to hunt him down later. The janitors in Pelican Bay had a terrible history, and that meant I needed to keep my eye on the new one.

He already had bad habits.

Like working on weekends when I wanted to break into the school building.

Also, killing people and using the janitor's closet as a storage facility for the body. You couldn't trust a Pelican Bay janitor.

He walked into the building, leaving me behind, and I returned to Allen's Facebook profile. Another full scroll and my eyes lit up as I hit pay dirt.

I was hitting home runs all over the place.

It seemed that earlier in the practice season, Allen and Coach Torres had quite the beef. He had multiple posts on his profile complaining about the team and their bound-for-glory coach.

Things like...

"Some coaches actually help their players get better. Ours just screams from the dugout about how we suck. Way to be inspirational."

And.

"Anyone know the enrollment needed to get on Clearwater's team this year? I want out of the Bay if this is how we plan to play this year."

And more so.

"If you aren't here to win, then go home. Or find a team with a better coach who holds people accountable."

Allen Culpepper had serious feelings about baseball and Coach Torres. That didn't mean he killed him, but it also didn't look good for him. Did he hate him enough to make a line drive at his head.

My phone vibrated in my hands. A text from Broadrick came through and cleared off the screen before I finished reading the preview.