“And I’m closing in on the Double D Bandit.”
Nick threw his pen on the desk. “How are we going to make any money if you pains in my ass are all working pro bono cases?”
“You literally just said the business was fine and that you were right about everything,” Brian pointed out.
“Fuck me. Fine. Whatever.”
Nick’s desk phone rang, and he answered it. “Santiago Investigations.” He frowned. Then frowned some more before holding the receiver out to Mrs. Penny. “It’s for you,” he growled.
Mrs. Penny sprang off the couch. Half a strip of bacon fell from her lap and was inhaled by Burt before it hit the floor.
“This is Penny, PI.”
“You’re not a licensed PI. You can’t say that!” Nick hissed, pressing his palm to the twitch under his eye.
Mrs. Penny ignored him and hefted herself onto the opposite corner of his desk. “You got doody? You found it in your front yard? I’ll be right there.”
She threw the receiver in Nick’s direction. “Gotta go! I’ve got doody!”
She slid off the desk, landed with a fart, and jogged for the door. Burt trailed after her, snarfing up the bacon crumbs she shed.
Josie hooked her thumb in the direction of the door. “I’m also gonna roll. I have a clown costume to rent.”
“Yeah, Nicky. I’ve gotta go too. Gym Rat’s about to match with an assistant district attorney who’s on Hook Up under her cousin’s name.”
“I’m running a damn circus,” Nick complained as his team left the room.
“I believe this is what’s called karma,” Riley said innocently.
“No one likes a smug girlfriend, Thorn.”
She hopped off his desk and grabbed the zipper of her hoodie. “How about a smug girlfriend in a crop top?”
Nick had her in his lap before she unzipped all the way. “I’d like to revise my previous statement.”
“I thought you might.”
“Yoo-hoo!”
Riley turned to see Sesame standing in the open doorway. She wore a dress that was short in the front and tapered off into a long, sequined train in the back. “Since you two aren’t busy, can I borrow one of you? I need someone to stand behind me off camera and fluff my train.”
“Gee, sorry, Sesame. But I have to go to school to see about a bully,” Riley said.
“Don’t do this to me, Thorn,” Nick pleaded.
“Sorry, babe,” she said, kissing him on the nose. “I can’t get in the way of karma.”
25
3:25 p.m., Monday, October 28
Sheepford Junior/Senior High School was a squat brick building that looked like it could have used a facelift twenty years ago. It was sandwiched between Route 15 and an industrial complex, which meant traffic snarls at all times of the day.
Riley swung her Jeep into the pickup line behind a minivan with several children already hanging out of the open windows and doors.
“That looks legal,” Jasmine observed dryly from the back seat.
“That’s nothing. I once saw a car drive away with an eighth grader hanging on to the luggage rack,” said Riley’s other passenger.
