My knee iced, my ankle resting on a pillow, I used Lindsey’s laptop to scan old high school photos. I checked them one by one, searching for a dude that looked similar to me. Iskipped over the girls, focusing on the guys. Especially those who’d courted trouble at school. The ones most likely to have stolen my jacket.
Lindsey slid her hands down my chest from behind and kissed my neck. “Any luck?”
“I don’t know. What do you think? Could this guy look like me?”
She studied the photo of Avery Armstrong, a fellow football player and one whom I’d chummed with on occasion. “Possibly,” she replied slowly. “His hair color is similar to yours. He’s not as cute, though.”
“Who is?”
I stared hard at the picture, thinking that in my jacket, on a surveillance camera, hecouldbe mistaken for me.He was a good guy. Unless he changed radically since school, I can’t see him dealing drugs.
“Let’s see where he is now.”
While I couldn’t find much about him on the Internet, Lindsey found his address in the old-fashioned phone book. “He’s listed. Are you thinking of talking to him?”
“You read my mind. You’ll have to drive.”
“What am I? Your chauffeur?”
I stood awkwardly, then leaned over the couch’s back to kiss her. “I’ll pay you handsomely.”
“Yeah, right.”
***
Lindsey followed the directions her GPS’s automated voice gave through the Ford’s speakers. Avery’s neighborhood and house didn’t give me the impression he’d engaged in the lucrative drug game. Stoutly middle class, average, it was also an older part of the city. Large, graceful homes that had been built a hundred years ago.
In his driveway, a newer model Range Rover sat parked. As Lindsey and I strode past it toward his front door, I observed a child’s safety seat nestled in the back.He’s got kids. Small ones. Or at least one small child.
Lindsey rang the bell. I heard it echo through the house, and the barking of a dog in reply. A male voice, approaching the door, ordered it to silence, which it clearly ignored. The barking continued.
I braced myself. I sucked in a breath. Would Avery instantly attack us, knowing why we’d come? Perhaps he’d sic the dog on us. Lindsey sent me a flashing glance just as the door swung open.
Avery, my old school pal, eyed us for a moment in confusion. Then his eyes widened. “Brody? Is that you?” A broad grin cracked his face in half.
I guessed he didn’t plan on attacking us. And the barking dog turned out to be a tail wagging, happy go lucky mutt that surely had shepherd in him. As it danced around our legs, I smiled and stuck my hand out for him to take.
“Yeah, Avery. Hey, can we talk? It’s important.”
“Sure, anything, my man. Come on in.”
He led us across the foyer to a sitting room where a little boy of about five stared at us with his dad’s big blue eyes. A mop of his dad’s red-gold hair covered his head. The dog bounced happily from each person to the other, licking whatever bit of skin it could reach, even the kid’s face.
Avery gestured with a mix of pride and uneasiness. “My son, Declan.”
“This is Lindsey,” I said, “my lady.”
“A pleasure,” Avery replied, smiling and shaking her hand. “Sit down, both of you. Max, sit. You’re bothering everybody.”
The dog didn’t obey and tried climbing into Lindsey’s lap, busily washing her face. She winced, smiling a little, and pushed the dog to the floor.
“Avery,” I began.
“Man, I’m glad you’re here.” Avery overrode me, his anxious blue eyes on my face. “I owe you an apology. Have since high school.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Look, I tried finding you back then, but you’d vanished.” Avery went on, his voice hurried. “I’m so sorry. I busted into your locker, looking for your chemistry notes.”
