"Who are we all staring at?" Tony asked. His breath moved the hair by my ear, so I had to rub it to stop the annoying tickles.

Pearl shushed him as Allen walked in enough that the door closed behind him.

"Allen Culpepper. Sister's ex-boyfriend and current murder suspect number one," I whispered.

Tony nodded slowly. "Got it."

The high school principal made his way from the front of the room, where he'd been standing next to the closed casket. He walked right toward Allen with a frown. His black suit jacket billowed out behind him from the speed. I'd never seen Principal Rafferty walk so quickly, even when he was about to suspend someone.

He made it about a foot from Allen before being spotted.

"I didn't do it, Mr. Rafferty!" Allen yelled and stopped the principal in his tracks.

Rafferty's approach slowed, and he walked toward him with his hands out. "No one is saying you did, Allen."

Pearl snorted beside me, and Tony nodded with her. Those two hadn't seen what I'd found an hour earlier. It was going to blow the case wide open. So wide, I'd be able to walk through the hole and declare my victory. No... my home run.

Damn it. I had to stop with the puns. I was just so good at them.

"You're all looking at me like I did it," Allen said loudly, but more in tears than anger.

My heart ached for the kid. Everyone in town-including the police-believed he did it. I might really be the only person who could save him from serious jail time. People had gone away with less circumstantial evidence than what they had on Allen.

I approached him and he didn't back away like he'd done to Rafferty. "Come on, Allen. Let's talk outside."

He turned his gaze toward me with a deep frown. Tears converged in the corners of his eyes. "You believe me. Don't you, Vonnie?"

"Yeah, kid. I believe you."

Allen jerked his head in one of those nods that meant "thank you" and let me walk with him outside. The crowd stayed eerily quiet as we turned.

He waited until we were on the steps with the door closed behind us before speaking. Allen clutched my arm, pulling on the sleeve of my blouse. "I swear I didn't do it."

"Why did you come to the funeral, Allen?"

The police watched to see who on their suspect list attended the funeral. And how they behaved. They'd notice Allen.

He shook his head and waited to answer when the door opened again. Tony walked out on high alert, his gaze assessing the situation. When he found us calm, his stance lowered. He joined our group without speaking but clearly using his presence to convey his thoughts.

"I wanted to say goodbye to Coach Torres. He was my coach too," Allen said, his words getting choked up again. "I'll never forget what he looked like that day."

Tony circled around us to stand at the other side so he had his back to the street but front to the doors in case anyone else walked out. I appreciated the backup. It's possible Broadrick wasn't all wrong in making him my partner while he couldn't be here.

"You didn't really like the coach, though. Did you?" I asked, remembering his social media posts. I needed to be sure before I went all in on my current top suspect.

Allen shrugged. "He made us work and expected that we'd devote everything to baseball. Sometimes I hated him for it, but not enough to kill him. I swear."

"Yes, you've said that." Lots. Nobody cared what he had to say. Police and juries cared about evidence. Every criminal said they were innocent. It was standard practice.

"But everyone thinks I did," he said in exasperation.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed. "Maybe, but even my dad is wrong sometimes."

Allen's eyebrows drooped. "Your dad thinks I killed Coach?"

Shit.

His gaze dropped to the ground. "I thought he liked me. He called me son."

Oh boy.

Okay, so my dad might not have let Allen know how his feelings had changed over the last few days. Now wasn't the time to get into it.

The door to the funeral home opened, and Principal Rafferty charged out. "What are you still doing here? These families are grieving. You need to leave, Allen. Nobody wants you here."

Allen's tears returned, but mine turned into anger. How did a principal talk to a student that way? Mr. Rafferty was a grade A jerk, but this was bad even for him.

Tony stepped between principal and student, and I grabbed Allen's arm to lead him away from his jerk principal. He pointed to the right, and we walked that way to what I assumed was his car.

"You were supposed to clear my name," he said, and the first of his tears finally fell.

I gave him a side hug as we walked. "These things take time."

Tony caught up to us at a slow jog. "This town."

Together, we walked Tony to his car. My shoes slipped on the loose gravel in the parking lot, where Allen found a space over by the church. I closed his car door as he wiped at his tears. Allen drove away as I stood watching with my arms crossed.

"You really don't think the kid did it?" Tony asked at the last view of the taillights.

I shook my head. "No. He doesn't have it in him."

It took a lot of anger, resentment, or passion to beat someone to death with a baseball bat. Allen didn't have it in him, even if he had yelled at my sister.

"Where are you going after this?" Tony asked as I pulled my phone from my pocket.

I pointed to our left. "To the office. I've got some work to do."

If my office didn't kill me while using it.

"Stay out of trouble," he said and walked away.

I rolled my eyes behind his back. "Sure, Dad."

I typed out a message to Broadrick while walking to my car.

VONNIE: So far, I have not fallen in love with Tony, but it was close for a few seconds today.

He hadn't responded by the time I made it to the office. Doom filled me as I walked to the main door. For the last few weeks, every time I came to the building, something bad had happened. I just wanted-no, needed-one decent day of work.

I closed my eyes before opening the door and twisted my head around to listen.

Tapping. Lots of heavy and fast tapping. Weird, but manageable.

The lack of sawing, hammering, or falling debris was the important part. I focused on those.

One step inside and I lifted one eyelid to squint into the main hallway and then opened both eyes in shock.

No work crews.

No random sawhorses with plywood on them.

No dudes in yellow construction hats.

Definitely an improvement.

The tapping stopped as I stepped completely into the building and let the main entrance door close.

Lots of other things lay in the hallway besides work crews. Like loads of sawdust piled up in the corners. Also, someone had stacked two tool boxes in the corner by the front door. An assortment of tools with names I didn't know lay scattered around them, like someone forgot to finish cleaning up. But none of those things were my problem.

I just needed a safe office to work in.

More trepidation filled my steps as I opened my office door. The tapping started again, but I ignored it. That investigation had to wait.

"Please, let it be clean," I whispered and forced myself to peek.

Two deep breaths and a step inside the room. I peeked.

Everything came out a little hazy since I only had one eye open. The floor? Clean. The corners? No saw dust.

My gaze traveled upward to answer the big question.

The ceiling?

I blew out a breath, opened both eyes, and relaxed.

Finished.

Wow. When they really set their mind to it, the guys finished the work quickly. What had they been doing the rest of the time? I tried to sit at my desk, but couldn't make my butt take a spot in the chair.

Memories of the cave-in caused my hesitations. Plus, they used the short screws on that ceiling drywall. I had to move the desk. I'd never be able to work there until I moved away from the drop zone.

But it was big and thick wood. I tried to scoot one side. It barely budged. I'd have to get Tony to help me or wait for Broadrick to return.

The tapping continued, and I gave into the urge to investigate. What if someone left a bomb in the building and we were now on a time crunch? I still hadn't finished my online class on bomb diffusion. Plus, Broadrick said the government probably had me on a watch list now. But I said bombers didn't take classes on how to diffuse.

Broadrick would be irate if I died while he was gone, so I had to check.

I'd barely made it halfway down the hall before the yelling started.

"Toes out!" a shrill voice screeched.

Oh no.

My steps slowed. Did they rent the sizeable space out already? And to another heavy metal band? Did I have the worst luck on the planet?

The door to the large practice room was open. I hovered on the outside, peeking in. On the wooden stage, two teenagers, dressed in matching blue leotards, stood at attention. On their feet weren't ballet shoes, but thick black tap shoes.

I only knew because Vivi did tap for six entire weeks when she was ten. It gave my mother massive headaches when she practiced on her little piece of hardwood floor, so they finally made her stop. She boycotted ballet out of spite after that. I didn't mind because then I no longer had to attend all-day recitals and practice twice a week.

But this? They'd rented the place out in barely a day. How? Did they have a wait list?

A woman with dark brown hair and a few pieces of gray on the front noticed me at the door a few seconds after her pupils did. She glared and then turned and closed the door in my face without another word.

At least the band members had been pleasant.

Whatever.

I had to let NB out to potty, anyway. I'd secretively vowed-with myself only-that I wouldn't use Sidney to care for NB. He was my dog and my responsibility, but if I continued to juggle this many things, I'd have to reconsider. Hopefully, Broadrick made it home by the weekend and things returned to normal.

It was wishful thinking, but didn't stop me from wishing it.

Katy's text hit my phone before I made it to the front door of my home.

KATY: NB and I are chilling by the pool.

Ugh. That dog.

VONNIE: Thanks. Be right there.

I left my car and walked across the road to Katy's new digs with her billionaire boyfriend. Someone left the fence gate open, so I walked in and around the back of the mansion.

"Once I have the money saved up, I'm going to increase the height of my fence. NB's getting an eighteen-footer," I said at my first sight of Katy. How did he even get out?

She was sitting in a lounge chair covered by a blanket. The pool was heated, but she wasn't in the water. Rather, she was just relaxing on one of our first nice days. Katy had on a thick sweater because it wasn't warm enough out for less. She'd wrapped her brown hair up in a clip behind her head and an e-reader sat at the table beside her.

Katy laughed and readjusted her chair, giving me a view of NB. He'd picked the lounge chair next to hers and was in a sitting position like they were two friends having a chat. And worse, he looked ridiculous.

"What did you do to my dog?" I asked, getting a good look at him.