Page 57 of Little Buried Secrets

“He told me he talked to Kaia. They don’t think anything happened between them. He tried telling me all this a while ago, but I was too furious back then to listen. Last night, I did, and I felt like crap after I’d heard what he had to say. He’s had my back so many times in the past. I should have heard him out back then, and I didn’t.”

“You are now, and that’s what matters.”

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of gum, and unwrapped it, popping it into her mouth. “Yeah, well, I just hope he’s telling the truth. What if Margot’s secret was about Isaac? What if he’s the one who killed her? I’m going to find out.”

Margot’s secret could have been about Coach Warren, or Isaac, or Sebastian, or anyone else for that matter.

“Let me question Isaac,” I said.

“When?”

“As soon as I can. Please don’t confront him or Coach Warren until I do.”

“I mean, I’ll try. I want answers. I’m not just going to sit here and wait for … hello? Are you even listening? What are you looking at?”

The truck.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” I said.

“By what?”

I pointed at the truck. “Do you see the pickup parked in front of the blue house?”

Bronte leaned forward and looked past me, squinting as she stared in the direction I was pointing. “What in the hell are they doing here?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Do they think we need a babysitter? We don’t.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said. “Who’s trying to babysit you?”

Bronte gritted her teeth and bolted off the porch, speed-walking in the direction of the pickup.

I took off after her.

As we neared the vehicle, I confirmed there were two males inside, one of whom I recognized. The guy in the driver’s seat took one look at Bronte and threw the truck into reverse. In his effort to get away, he backed over one of the neighbor’s mailboxes, and then he slammed on the brakes, jolting the truck to a stop.

CHAPTER 22

Bronte yanked open the passenger-side door of the truck and laid into both guys, ending her rant with, “What are you two idiots even doing here, anyway?”

Sebastian, who refused to make eye contact, said, “I … uhh, I watched the, you know, the chief of police’s press thing today, and I messaged Danny. He said we should head over to your place and make sure you guys were all right.”

Danny leaned forward, raising a hand as he looked at me and said, “Hey.”

He was a bit on the scruffy side. He had long, auburn hair that fell past his shoulders, numerous tattoos, and a black hoop nose ring. His overall look screamed “tough guy,” but he had kind eyes, eyes full of genuine concern.

“Hey,” I said.

“I’m Danny.”

“Daniel Moffat? Bronte’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“If you two are here to check on Bronte and her mother, why are you parked over here?” I asked. “Were you trying to be sneaky? If you were, you did a lousy job. I’ve had my eye on you for a half an hour now.”

Danny smacked Sebastian in the shoulder and said, “See? I told you she saw us.”

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