At least out there I'd be able to pace the hallway. Move. Do something. Take a few practice swings by questioning students.

"Sure thing, hun." She waved as I closed the door behind me.

On the other side of the hallway, the trophy case stretched half the wall. Four rows tall, it was littered with random plaques and shiny trophies. I stood in front of the case and scanned them. Something I'd never done while I was a student.

They'd grouped the trophies together by subject. The Model UN Team dominated in the eighties but hadn't had a win since the mid-aughts. A scattering of overly tall trophies with guys bowling on top were all stationed on the far left. Someone was overcompensating. Or really liked balls.

They were definitely striking out.

Wait... maybe that was a good thing in bowling?

Who knew?

Only one sport had a bigger collection than the bowling team.

Baseball.

The far right held a massive assortment of baseball trophies. A small group of them were from the seventies, but a growing collection sported dates from the most recent years. They'd won something every year since I graduated. Coach Torres really was making a name for himself and his team.

I didn't remember baseball being the top sport when I was in school, even if I didn't keep up on the details back then. I was more into football players. Like everyone else.

After I finished with the principal, I needed to visit the football coach to see if he had any unresolved anger issues about Coach Torres stealing his limelight as the best sport and coach. That had to sting.

"Ms. Vines, I hear you'd like to speak with me." Principal Rafferty had me spinning around at the sound of his voice. I smiled at him, but he didn't return it. "We discussed you staying far away. So, you'll have to forgive my surprise at the unexpected visit."

I paused halfway to him. "Those were extra congratulations when you said you didn't want me back here." He couldn't ruin my happy memories.

"Something like that. I hope you didn't bring drama to my school again."

I crinkled my forehead. "You already had drama." Did he forget about the murder?

"What brings you to my doorstep if not trouble?" he asked, and I didn't miss how he never tried for a handshake.

"I'm working with the police on Coach Torres's case and have a few questions."

He squinted. "With the police?"

"Yes, I'm a valuable asset," I only half-lied. They hadn't realized I was valuable, but I was. "This whole death business isn't a good look for you."

"Yeah, and now I've got Tim up my ass." The principal snorted, undid his black suit jacket, and puffed out his chest. "I can say that now. You're over eighteen."

I nodded, but it was still weird as hell hearing it come from his mouth. We'd always guessed he had a dark side, but having it confirmed was weird. And who was Tim?

I searched my pockets for the notebook I tried to carry with me at all times for notes. Left pocket empty. Right pocket empty. Back jeans' pockets also empty. Where did I put that thing? Why was it never with me?

I needed to ask who the hell Tim was, but I didn't want to seem like wasn't totally in on the players for this murder.

"I've heard Tim can be a hard-ass," I said, hoping he'd give me more.

Rafferty crossed his arms. "A real hard-ass. Just because they made him superintendent doesn't mean he and the board get to boss me around."

I nodded at him but disagreed. It seemed like a superintendent, and the board got to boss around the principals and teachers. That was kind of their entire purpose.

"He wants this thing solved immediately, but it's not like I can tell the police what to do."

"We all want to solve this case as quickly as possible." I leaned up against the display case. It wiggled, so I stepped away. "What did you think of Coach Torres? Did he have any problems at the school?"

Principal Rafferty glanced around like we might have listeners and then led me to his office. We passed Secretary Peterson, and he knocked on her counter twice. "Hold all my calls."

"Sure thing, sir," she said.

I took a seat in the chair across from his desk and grabbed the letter opener from its holder. "Your thoughts on Coach Torres?" I asked when he got comfortable. The office was on the small side, but decorated exactly as he'd had it when I attended and visited more than once.

Two tall bookcases lined the left walls with his desk and computer right in the middle of the room. His swivel chair was full wood and looked like it belonged in the nineties. Giles from Buffy probably had one just like it. Popcorn scents coated the air, but I didn't see any random bowls of it.

If he brought me here, he must have something good to say that he didn't want students to hear.

"Coach Torres was a wonderful staff member. We were proud to have him on the staff, and he brought the baseball team to state attention," he prattled on and on about the amazing nature of Coach Torres.

Frankly, I was sick of hearing about how great everyone found Coach Torres. He had to have a bad side. Everyone had secrets. Why couldn't I figure out his?

"The best coach this school has ever had. Torres dedicated his career to Pelican Bay High," he continued.

I internally rolled my eyes when he repeated himself. Anymore and I'd get a cavity. "He sounds wonderful. Did the kids like him?"

"Oh yes," he answered immediately. "All of them. He had no issues with his players."

"What about Renee Brown? How did she feel about him?" I raised an eyebrow, just like Broadrick, and tapped the letter opener in my hand. The cool metal thumped heavily against my open palm.

Rafferty watched me tap it, his eyes moving with each motion. "You heard about that?"

"I did."

He cleared his throat. "Ms. Brown developed a schoolgirl crush on Coach Torres after his winning season last year. The school board found no evidence of inappropriate behavior on Torres's part."

"What did you think?"

He tapped his desk and motioned for the envelope opener. I passed it over to him slowly. "He was a magnificent coach. This school will not be the same without him. He's irreplaceable as a coach and a friend."

"It's been a deep loss for the entire town," I said. He would not give me anything more than the standard lines, and I had a dog to pick up from Sidney before Broadrick realized he wasn't with me.

"Torres's would have taken us to the championship this year. Think of what that would have done for our school."

Yeah, yeah. I almost felt bad for Coach Torres. Everyone talked about what he was going to do for the school, but did anyone know the man? His whole life was baseball. Didn't he ever want to get into a game of golf or go bowling? Read a book?

"So, you were a big fan of his? Not a bad word to say about him?" I asked just to clarify and give the principal one last chance to give me the goods.

My phone vibrated, and I slipped it out while he had his head down.

SIDNEY: NB is ready for pickup whenever you're ready. I'm in the Clearwater Diner parking lot.

What did she do, just drive around with dogs? I hope she made NB wear a seat belt.

Rafferty nodded. The popcorn smell bothered me. Was it getting stronger? Where was it coming from? "Yes, I was Coach Torres's biggest fan. We'll never be able to replace him."

"Well, there's always football," I said, standing up and brushing off fake crumbs from my jeans. I had a dog to rescue from a crazy-pink-haired-too-happy woman.

Principal Rafferty scoffed. "Have you seen our quarterback? Weakest ankles I've ever seen."

I left the principal's office and stopped at Mrs. Peterson's desk. "What did you think of Coach Torres?"

She smiled a sad smile. "He was the best coach we've ever had. What a loss."

"Great. Right. Thanks for the help." Lies. All lies. I needed someone to give me the goods on the coach. Not fill me with post-death platitudes.

I slipped into my car, and a brief parting of the clouds let a ray of sun hit my side window perfectly. It lit up the drawing from NB and I quickly snapped a picture with my phone. Definitely a Christmas tree with presents. I sent it to Katy with a quick message. She responded almost immediately.

KATY: That's definitely a maple, not a pine. You and that dog are weird.

I laughed and started the car. A black motorcycle pulled out in front of me, so I couldn't move forward. "Oh no."

I froze with my foot on the brake. Where was his new truck? That would have been louder. With more warning, I could have gotten away quicker. Broadrick stopped his bike right in front of my car in the school's lot. If I let off the brake, I'd have to run him over to make my escape, but if he got any closer, he'd notice the missing dog.

Broadrick got off the bike and fixed his black-my-black leather jacket before removing his helmet. I put the car in reverse.

He raised his eyebrow at me. "Vonnie."

I didn't want to squish him, but I also didn't want to get caught without NB. What did I do?

He knocked on my window as I stared straight ahead, pretending I didn't see him.