He chuckled. “I figured you’d want me to get straight to the point.” He sighed. “I read the article about the firefighter and drugs. You know we just lost a student to drugs.”
I nodded.
“I’m wondering if there’s a connection.”
I stilled. “Isn’t that a question for the police? The RCMP are in a much better position to comment.”
“And yet they won’t.”
“Ah.” Things crystalized. “I can’t tie the two events together. But I’m seeing a pattern. I can’t go public until I have confirmation.”
“Can you share with me?” His dark eyes held hope.
I shook my head. “Too premature. I will say if I had a direct link to the school then I’d be telling you.”
“Finn mentioned he thought he saw a man trying to sell drugs to Michael. Michael denied it, of course.”
“Yeah. It’s not like he’s going to admit to buying drugs—especially to someone he respects as much as Finn.”
“I’d hoped—” He ran his hands through his hair. “Finn’s so good with the kids. I hoped he could help keep them out of trouble.”
“Can anyone do that?”
He chuckled. Ruefully. “Uh, no. They’re teenagers. They’re chaos incarnate. Good point.”
“Yet you love them.”
“I do. I really do. When I lost my wife, I had this place as a reason to keep going. Successes like Finn help a lot in soothing the ache when things don’t go well.”
“Like David.”
“Like David.” He extended his hand.
I shook it. “I promise I’ll let you know.”
“That’s all I can ask. You going back to see the rest of the game?”
I shook my head. “It’s all good. I’ll get the final score to print in the paper. You’ve got a good team.”
“Yes. With a good coach. And Finn helping the kids not strong enough to make that team. We work hard.”
I liked how he included himself in that statement. Like he understood that leadership from the top was as important as lower ranks. That Finn was as important as the other adults in these kids’ lives.
Gage held my gaze. “You ever think about having kids?”
I blinked.Wow. Okay. Holy personal question.“Not in the cards for me. For some guys? Yeah, I can totally see it. I’ll happily watch from the sidelines.”
“Fair enough. Might you consider mentoring some of our kids? Even a single kid? We need good role models…”
His original question now made more sense. My immediate thought was mentoring kids in creative writing—teaching them about the world of publishing.
Gage didn’t mean that, though.
“I’ll see if we can organize something. Spring’s a local graduate, right? She might have some ideas of how to get a student more involved.”
The laughter from Gage was unexpected. The grin was also a contrast to the serious nature of our previous topic. “Spring Dixon. Oh God.” He rubbed his forehead. “Kennedy was before my time, but I’vetaught or been principal to every other Dixon sister. I doubt it’ll come as a surprise when I say Spring was—” He made a rolling gesture with his hand.
I arched an eyebrow.
