“When Yvonne sees a situation that needs to be repaired, she goes in and does what she can.” She stood.
I hoisted myself out of the chair and warred against an emerging grimace. Stupid cycling class. “Good for you.” And here I’d thought she’d come to help Cal move into his house. Silly me. “I do have one more question though.”
“Sure.”
“Why were you talking to Detective Hawk earlier today?”
She draped her arm over my shoulder as we headed for my front door. “Because if she’s any kind of cop, she’s got Cal’s back, but I was willing to bet my pension she didn’t have the full story about Mason.”
“Did she?”
“Nope. She knew about his wife passing, but that was it.” She gave me a squeeze. “I set her straight because I need her on my team while I’m fixing things with you and Cal.”
Chapter Fifteen
I growled and drove my fist into my pillow. Thanks to Yvonne’s visit, sleep was nowhere in sight. I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling.
Yvonne wanted to fix my relationship with Cal—as if it were up to her. Knowing what had been bothering him helped, but not much. Why couldn’t he have told me about Mason and Natalie? Instead, he’d shut me out and said his life wasn’t a mystery for me to solve. Why would he think I’d try to solve a case in another state that didn’t even involve me? Why would he assume Mason and Natalie’s situation would happen to him? What about trusting God with the future?
Maybe I hadn’t been patient enough with Cal. I covered my face with my hands. No. I hadn’t felt at peace about our relationship, so I’d ended things.
I rolled on my side. Not to mention, Hamlet added another layer of complication. I really liked him and wanted to get to know him better. I hoped he felt the same, but I wasn’t sure since he’d told me he didn’t want to be my rebound relationship. What if that was just an excuse?
“God,” I whispered. “I don’t know what to do. Are you showing me there’s still hope with Cal? Should I give Hamlet a chance? Is there someone else out there? Or maybe I’m just supposed to be single forever.” I fluffed my pillow. “Please show me your will . . . and help me sleep.”
“I figured out where we can find Micah Bradford,” Makayla said the next morning.
We were scarfing down Frosted Flakes at my kitchen table. Gus perched between us, moving his head back and forth and keeping an eye out for rogue cereal pieces.
After getting a few hours of sleep, it took me a minute to remember who she was talking about. Jonas’s friend and bandmate. Look alive, Georgia Rae. “Where?”
“He’s in Richardville.”
My spoon clinked against the bowl. “Seriously?”
“Yep. I stalked his social media last night. He’s student teaching at Hillside Elementary, and they aren’t on spring break until next week.”
I sipped my coffee and formed a plan. “I need to set up measurements for planting, but I could take a break to stakeout the school parking lot this afternoon. Maybe he’ll talk to us.”
“Sounds good.” She shrieked and dropped her spoon.
Coffee slopped onto my pajamas. “Ow!” I dabbed my lap with a napkin. “What?”
She pointed behind me, and I faced the door where her identical twin brothers were peering through the window and making faces.
I hadn’t had enough caffeine to deal with them, but I tossed my napkin aside and let them in. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” I looked back and forth between the blond pair who’d nicknamed themselves the Twin Menaces—and who were as handsome as they believed. I was getting better at telling them apart and didn’t need to rely on the scar underneath Austin’s eye the way I once had.
“We heard Mak is your sidekick this week.” Preston patted Gus on the head.
“And that you’re investigating Quincy’s vanishing act.” Austin squared his broad shoulders and crossed his arms.
Uh-oh. There was only one way they’d learned all this information, and I had a bad feeling about what was coming.
Wait for it . . .
“Dad and Jill asked us to stay with you.” Preston smirked. “Jill says you have plenty of space.”
Makayla groaned and buried her face in her arms.
Wait . . . what? I blinked at them. I’d expected a demand for sidekick action. How naïve was I? “I have a security system.”
That excuse had sounded better in my head.
“Sissy.” Austin puffed out his chest. “Presty and I are way better than any security system.”
In spite of being annoying, they’d both played football for Richardville High School, and at twenty-five they kept their hulking figures in shape, which could come in handy. “Well, I—”
“Cool!” Austin gave Preston a high five, and if they hadn’t been wearing shirts and ties for their work as real estate agents, I would’ve expected them to bump chests.
Makayla lifted her head and gaped at them.
“Tell us where to put our stuff. We need to get to work.” Preston opened the back door and dragged in two large suitcases with garment bags draped over them.
How was this happening?
I shot Makayla a helpless glance, but she’d simply resumed eating her cereal. Apparently, she knew when to surrender.
“How long are you expecting to stay?” I stared at the luggage. “I wouldn’t take that monstrosity of bag for a week’s vacation.”
“A few days. You know we have to look good at all times,” Preston said. “Do you have spare keys?”
I grabbed the back of a chair and held on for dear life. Preston had been showing teeny glimmers of maturity, and I’d broken him of the habit of calling me babe. But the thought of the boys having unrestricted access to my house actually made me dizzy. “I don’t have them lying around because Mom has one, and Brandi and Ashley have keys, and so does my Grandpa, but that’s it. So I guess you’ll have to make sure I’m here. Even Dakota doesn’t have a key, which makes sense since he’s an hour away and—”
“Presty.” Austin elbowed his brother. “We don’t need keys. Don’t you remember?”
“Dude, that’s right. I completely forgot.”
My eyes widened. “Why don’t you need keys?”
“Two years ago, at Dad and Jill’s Memorial Day cookout, we stole your keyring and had duplicates made in case we wanted to prank you.” Austin fished a key out of his pocket and jiggled it. “That was before we decided we like you.” He winked.
Preston turned to me. “We’re good then. Just give us the code for your alarm system.”
Pick-up at Hillside Elementary School ended a little past three o’clock, so Makayla and I cruised the lot searching for a vehicle with a Brenneman University parking pass like the one on her Prius’s rear window.
We’d waited at a safe distance until traffic cleared, because past experience had taught me it wasn’t safe to be within a close radius of any elementary school after dismissal. The way some parents zoomed out of the lot made me think they’d been the ones trapped inside all day with only one recess.
“There it is.” Makayla pointed at a beat-up Honda. I eased into the space next to the car.
“I hope he doesn’t stay here working for hours.” I cracked the windows and shut off my truck.
“No kidding.” She studied her phone.
“Georgia Rae! Makayla! What’re you doing?” Hamlet waved as he approached the truck.
My face burned as I opened my window more and snuck a quick peek at Makayla, who was giving us her full attention. “Were you subbing today?” I managed to sound halfway cool, considering I probably looked as red as the playground slide across the way.
“Yes. I tried my hand as a fifth-grade teacher.” He shook his head. “I’d rather work with middle and high school students in Wildcat Springs, but I survived.”
He’d been taking substitute teaching jobs at local schools to fund his house flip.
“What are you doing?” Hamlet-the-Pers
istent asked again.
“We’re waiting on one of Makayla’s friends to come out because we have a few questions about Quincy.” I fixed my eyes on the door. “He’s a student teacher here.”
“I see.” He leaned against my truck. “I’m glad I ran into you because I’ve been meaning to call.”
The door to the main entrance opened, and Micah strolled out of the building. He hadn’t lost the retro glasses, and he sported a Mr. Rogers-like cardigan.
I held up one finger. “We’ll talk after Makayla and I are done. Excuse us.”
Makayla and I hopped out and waited on the sidewalk in front of the truck, but Hamlet didn’t leave my side.
Makayla waved. “Micah?”
He approached us. “Hey, Mak. What’s going on?”
“We need to talk about Quincy Ashbrook,” she said.
“Okay?” He squinted at Hamlet and me.
I smiled. “I’m Georgia—Makayla’s stepsister.” I motioned toward Hamlet. “And this is my friend Hamlet.”
“Nice to meet you.” He shifted his navy backpack to his opposite shoulder and glanced toward his car. “Could we make this quick? I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Sure.” I sensed the need for a friendly approach, so I kept my tone pleasant. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Quincy disappeared last weekend, and then Dr. Kurtz—a former Brenneman professor—was murdered.”
His face remained expressionless. “Yeah. Weird situation—and sad.”
“Makayla’s been worried about Quincy, and we’ve been talking to people who know her to see if they have any idea why she left.”
“You think I know something about that crazy chick?” He scoffed. “Lady, I’ve been student teaching all semester. It’s consuming my life.” He turned toward his car.
Hamlet stiffened, and I had a feeling he was about ten seconds away from putting this kid in his place.
“I understand. I went through student teaching myself,” I said. “But since you’re friends with Jonas, we thought you might remember something—anything—that might help.”
He pushed up his glasses. “First of all, Jo and Q broke up, and I say good riddance.”
Interesting take. Jonas had made the split sound amicable. “What happened?” I asked.
“She lost interest in Jo. Could’ve been seeing someone else.” Micah glanced at his watch.
I peeked at Makayla, who had her arms crossed. “Elias Kurtz?”
“No. But I heard rumors about them a couple of years ago.”
“How do you know Quincy wasn’t seeing Elias?” I asked.
“I straight up asked Jo.”
“How would he know?” Makayla asked.
“Q must’ve told him.” He scowled. “Here’s the thing. Jo and I never would’ve asked Elias to be the lead singer in our band if he’d been dating Q. We don’t need the drama.”
I remembered what Kimberlee Samson had told us. “Did this conversation take place at Bell’s Dinner Theater?”
He frowned. “Yeah.”
I charged ahead before he got skittish. “Why ask Elias?”
“That guy could sing. He was classically trained, but he has an awesome country sound.” He turned to Makayla. “Remember when he sang that song he wrote at Brenneman’s talent show and everybody went crazy?”
“Yeah. It was great.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she ducked her head.
Moving on. “What’d Elias say when you asked him?”
“He thanked us and turned us down. Said life on the road wasn’t for him. See, Jo was freaking out because his brother got us a gig opening for Parker Curtis this summer. But we lost our lead singer last month, so we were pretty desperate. We found somebody else though, so it’s all good.” Micah grinned. “We’re all moving to Nashville after graduation. My grandma said we can live in her garage apartment rent free if we do handyman stuff for her. We’ve given ourselves two years to make it in the music business, and then we’ll start our fallback careers.” He looked at his watch again. “I’ve got to go.”
I nodded. “One quick thing. What do you know about Tune Nutritional Supplements?”
He turned up his nose. “Quincy and Jonas sold the stuff. I tried one of Jo’s sample packets, the kind you mix in water, and it made me gag. Definitely not my thing.”
As far as I could tell, his words and reaction seemed sincere. “Thanks for your time.”
Micah rushed to his car, and I turned to Hamlet, who was staring at Micah.
“He may need to give himself more time to achieve his dream,” he said.
Interesting takeaway. “Do you regret leaving acting?”
He shook his head. “I’ll always be an actor, and if a show comes along that I’m interested in, I’ll audition at Bell’s or for other local companies. But I’ve had my fill of moving around, and I don’t have a desire to pursue film or TV.”
Makayla snuck away to the playground and sat on a bench next to a teeter-totter, proving she was more mature than her brothers, who would’ve stuck around listening just to torture me.
“What’d you want to talk to me about?” My heart fluttered—a teeny bit.
“I’ve been thinking about our conversation the other day, and I made an error in judgement.”
My cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry about the kiss—”
“I don’t regret that. However, I never should’ve decided for you that you aren’t ready to move past your relationship with Detective Perkins. I should’ve asked you on a date and let you decide for yourself.”
“I see.” I flipped my braid between my fingers. How honest should I be? “The thing is—you were right about me still struggling with my feelings for Cal. I wish it weren’t the case, but it’s been really hard.”
He rested a hand on my shoulder. “I get it. It took me a while to get over my last relationship, but God helped me see my ex-girlfriend wasn’t his best.”
“Thanks for understanding. I care about you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know.” He studied me, and I squirmed under his scrutiny. “Perhaps I have a solution,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“I’m content with my life right now. I’m building a new business, and no one else has caught my attention the way you have, Georgia Rae.” He squeezed my shoulder and then dropped his hand to his side. “I’ll gladly give you time to heal and pray for God’s guidance.”
I couldn’t expect him to wait forever, but it was a generous—and kind—offer. “Okay—I have been.”
“Excellent.” He grinned. “When you’re ready, say the magic words, and I’ll whisk you away on a date.”
“And what if I’m not?”
“Then we’ll trust God to make that clear to both of us.”
Peace flooded over me. “That sounds good. Thank you for understanding.” I reached out and squeezed his hand.
“You’re worth it, Georgia Rae.” He kissed my cheek. “Have a wonderful evening.” He strode over to his new truck.
Makayla jogged toward me as Hamlet drove out of the parking lot. “Did he ask you out?”
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
I told her.
“Wow. He really likes you.”
“I know.”
Chapter Sixteen
Not long after Makayla and I had returned home from talking to Micah, my phone chirped with a text message from Brandi.
I’m on my way with dinner.
My best friend knew me well, and since she was on spring break, she must’ve had some extra time on her hands. I never turned down an offer of free food.
Ten minutes later, she was at my front door with her crockpot in hand and a grocery bag slung over her arm.
I took the crockpot from her and led her to the kitchen. “Mom and Dan ordered the Twin Menaces to stay with us,” I whispered as I set her slow cooker on the counter and plugged it in.
Brandi slid the bag off her arm and set it on the table. “Then it’s a g
ood thing I made extra.”
I lifted the crock pot’s lid and peered inside. “What’ve you got there?” The fragrant soup filled the kitchen with a taco-like scent.
“Chicken tortilla soup.” She took a container of homemade chocolate chip cookies and a package of tortilla chips from the bag. “And why are the boys staying with you?”
“To protect us.”
“Fun.” She laughed.
“It’s always an adventure with the Winston-Farthing family.” I ripped open the bag of chips. “How was the Parker Curtis concert?” I popped a chip in my mouth.
“Amazing. We had the best time.” She took her phone out of her purse and showed me pictures of her and her sister with Parker. “He even signed T-shirts for us.”
“That’s great.” I grinned. “Now, the Georgia Rae Winston Sensor detected chemistry between you and Lukas Dawes. What’s the story?”
“We were friends—mostly freshman year. He started in education before he changed his major to music business. It was nice to see him again.”
“You seemed more excited than just nice the other night.”
“I did, didn’t I?” She twisted her beaded bracelet. “I admit, I thought we could reconnect, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Why not? He looked happy to see you.”
“He was, but when Carly and I saw him at the concert, he was in business mode. It’s pretty clear his whole life is the Parker Curtis Band. It just seems like he’s changed.” She shrugged. “I still had a great time. I mean, I met Parker Curtis for crying out loud!”
Preston, who’d changed into black athletic shorts and a Purdue T-shirt, sauntered into the kitchen and swept an appreciative gaze over Brandi. “Hey, there. Preston Farthing.” He held out his hand. “Do I smell tacos?”
“Tortilla soup.” She grinned as she looked up at him and shook his hand.
“Now that’s a name I’ve never heard.” His eyes gleamed.
Her cheeks turned pink, and she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s Brandi. I made the tortilla soup.”
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