“Explain,” I press.
“I’m a private investigator,” he says, rearranging his glasses again. “The Labelles have hired me to keep an eye on their granddaughter, little Jane. I’m supposed to catalog any evidence of dereliction of duty on the part of her father. Shedidhave a very distressing injury two days ago.”
As if Cole had anything to do with that…
This guy’s a pretty shitty detective if he’s been hiding within full view, watching Jane in a classroom far away from her father, but I don’t say so. I’m too busy feeling bad for Cole.
Fuck. I don’t want that. I certainly don’t want to worry about him.He doesn’t deserve it.But everyone in town knows the Labelles are a family of rich, entitled jerks, who wield their fortune like a weapon to mow down anyone in the way of them and what they want. Besides, I know he’s a good father, the kind of person I would have loved to have in my life when I was a kid. Jane needs him.
Which means I’m going to have to do something I really don’t want to do.
Sighing, I say, “You’re coming with me, pal.”
“What?” the shrimpy guy asks in alarm. “What are you going to do to me?”
Really. Where did the Labelles find this guy? A discount emporium?
“You’re going to wait in one of the classrooms for Cole Garrison to show up.He’sgoing to decide what to do with you.”
His eyes widen in alarm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, it’s a great one. And he doesn’t hit his little girl, you jackass. She got into a spat with another kid. It happens. If you’re going to insert yourself into other people’s affairs, you should try being good at it.”
I turn and give a thumbs up to Mikey, who’s gawking at us through the window along with every single kid from class, even Eloise. Then I lead the private investigator into the school. I shut him into an empty classroom—one without windows, although I do turn on the lights before I shut the door behind him. Sighing to myself, I pull up a number I really shouldn’t still have on my phone, one I’ve contemplated deleting a hundred times, especially late at night when I’m foolish enough to want to dial it.
He answers halfway through the first ring. His tone an urgent bark that, dammit, swells my heart, he says, “Jane. Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“She’s fine,” I say. “I’m calling because…” Shit, there’s no good way to say this. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on the classroom, and I went out to confront him.”
“You did what?” he asks, sounding even more pissed. “Why didn’t you call the police?”
It’s probably a good point, but there was always the outside chance the guy was just an innocent pedestrian with too much nosiness for his own good. Besides, I’m used to handling things myself. Ilikehandling things myself.
“The situation has been handled,” I say. “I’ve apprehended the suspect and shut him into a classroom.”
“For fuck’s sake, you kidnapped someone?”
This isn’t going well.
“No, I did notkidnaphim,” I hissed. “He says he’s a private investigator hired by the Labelles. He’s been keeping an eye on Jane for them. So, stupid me, I figured you might want to talk to him. He says his license is lapsed, so he’s reluctant to involve the police.” I leave out theI sense an opportunity for negotiationpart, because Cole, for all his other failings, is a smart man.
He unleashes about a dozen very creative swears under his breath, and I can hear him getting up in a hurry, presumably to come here. “Holly, I don’t like that you’re alone with that asshole,” he says. “Get someone to stand there with you.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “He’s a shrimpy little guy who couldn’t harm a fly.”
I hear a distant—“hey!”—from the interior room, but I pay it no mind. The facts are the facts.
“I don’t fucking like that you’re there alone with him,” he repeats, his voice gruff.
“Why the hell do you care?” I ask, miffed. Before either of us can say anything else, I hang up and text him the location of the classroom.
Then I send off a quick text to Mikey, who’s already sent me five, most of them question marks, and let him know that the situation is under control, but I’ll be detained for an indeterminate amount of time.
Mikey:What am I going to do with these kids?
Me:Tap dance? Juggle? Teach them code? I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Still. I don’t feel like going in there to have a chat with the sort-of PI—what TV I’ve seen suggests I should let him sweat, and Cole would arguably be the better interrogator—so I pull up the Matchmake Me app. I’m tempted to tell Hot Rod about my little adventure, but something tells me Judith would send him a whole lot ofREDACTEDS, so I find myself writing this instead:
