“Thanks,” Mira had said. “I worked hard on that, because it’s all true. Yes, some parts of our lives suck, but we laugh and have fun too. And it’s just the beginning chapters—not any kind of road map or fate we can’t avoid. We all have a long way to go to write our stories. And I believe they’ll have happy endings, just like the play.”
I blinked away tears, just as my dad walked into the kitchen. “You okay?”
I nodded. “I’m just reading about Mira’s play,” I said. “She’s amazing.”
He came to read over my shoulder and I let him have my chair and the computer. Trouble followed to stare at him reproachfully. Come back to the living room where it’s more comfortable.
“Pretty cool,” he said when he was finished reading the article. “Can’t wait till Friday.”
Then Norma called me back. “Any reason you can think of for a private investigator to follow you?” she asked.
“What?” I covered the phone and spoke to my dad. “That Honda guy is a private investigator!”
He gave me a you-gotta-be-kidding-me look.
“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” I said. “What should we do?”
“I’d like you to file a complaint and we’ll take it from there,” she said. “Come into the office as soon as you can.”
I hung up feeling very uneasy. “Who would hire a private investigator to follow us?”
“Maybe he had the wrong person,” my dad suggested.
I looked at the clock. “Time to pick up Elliott. Want to come? We’re stopping for ice cream.”
His eyebrows rose. Even though we’d been living with him for two months, he still seemed surprised to be included in our day-to-day lives. Maybe because I’d kept him out of it for so many years. “Sure. That’d be fun,” he said.
I texted Elliott to meet us a block from the school to avoid some of the pick-up traffic and he texted back a thumbs up emoji.
“You ready for the big day?” my dad asked. He tried hard not to offer advice on running my business, but was excited as well as curious.
“We’re getting there,” I said.
Annie had told me that he talked about my “up-and-coming” business all the time. I was still unfamiliar with the idea that my dad was proud of me after so many years of just getting by. In some ways, it added extra pressure to make my new relationship with Twomey’s a success. If that was possible.
I’d raised Elliott on jobs that kept us housed and fed, but didn’t allow for a lot of extras. Moving back in with my dad while he was sick had given me some breathing room to focus on increasing my business and actually growing my savings.
Elliott was twelve now and I was far behind on saving for his college. Getting Meowio cat food in every Twomey’s store was just the beginning of gaining the kind of financial stability he deserved.
“Whew!” Elliott said as he opened the back door and jumped in. “Glad that’s over. Hey, Grandpa! Oh, and Mom,” he added.
“How was the first day?” my dad asked.
“Great, well except I already have homework,” he answered.
“How are your teachers?” I asked.
“My English teacher is so cool!” he said. “She’s also my drama teacher and the sponsor for the drama club.” He chattered on about his day, and I relaxed. I should’ve known that he would adjust well given half a chance.
“I’m going to run for vice president of the drama club, so I can help choose the fall musical. Someone wants Lion King but I’m going to push for Hairspray. Nice!” he said when we turned into the What’s the Scoop? parking lot.
We sat at a picnic table to eat our treats and then drove to the local Target for another round of school supplies.
When I grumbled, my dad said, “Do I need to remind you of the year of the purple backpack?”
“No!” I said.
“Yes!” Elliott insisted. “Tell me.”
I pretended to sigh and give in, and my dad told Elliott about my first year in middle school when we went to four different stores in search of the right kind of purple backpack. When I made it to school the first day, I was the only one with a purple backpack in the whole school. Somehow I’d missed the memo of what colors were now cool. I came home from school in tears demanding a new backpack, but of course, I was forced to use it until Christmas, when Santa brought me a new blue one.
At the checkout, my dad insisted on paying. “Grandpa’s treat.” He looked so delighted that I agreed without fussing.
Elliott casually linked arms with my dad as we walked out. “Hey, Grandpa, can I get another guitar lesson when we get home?”
Life was good.
* * * *
My cell phone rang in the dark, jarring me from a deep sleep. I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed. It was 12:04 in the morning.
Still not awake, I looked at the screen of my cell phone and saw it was Lani.
“Hello?” My voice cracked.
“Colbie. It’s an emergency. Are you awake?” Lani’s tone was something I didn’t remember ever hearing from her. Scared.
I sat up, instantly alert. “Yes. What is it?”
“Mira called. She said the police are looking for her and she doesn’t know why.” I heard a faint car tire screech through the phone. “Can you come with me to pick her up?”
I was already out of bed. “On my way.”
It took me less than a minute to throw on clothes and get outside. It was a cool, clear night and the stars sparkled. Soon I heard Lani’s car turn onto the street. She pulled up and I jumped in. She took off before I buckled my seatbelt. I remembered to text my dad to tell him that I was handling something with Lani and would be back soon. At least I hoped so.
“What’s this about?” I asked, pulling a bundle of fabric out from under my leg and tossing it in the backseat.
“I don’t know for sure,” she said. She wore a hoodie over her pajamas and flip-flops on her feet. “Mira said she got a call from her roommate that the police were searching her apartment and looking for her.”
“Why?”
She looked over at me for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “I heard something disturbing on the radio.”
“What?” I asked.
“Dennis Franklin is dead.”
“Oh.”
“He was murdered,” she said.
Chapter 3
“Murdered?” I blamed lack of sleep for how long it took my brain to understand. “That’s why the police are at Mira’s place? They think she did it?”
Lani shook her head, as if trying to convince herself. “There is no way she did something like that. We have to pick her up near her apartment and figure out what’s going on.”
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“I’m supposed to text her when we get closer.” She gave a helpless shrug. “Then we’ll go from there.”
I forced myself to take a few breaths to calm myself down. “Did you hear anything else about Dennis?”
“Just that he was killed at one of his properties,