Page 137 of Conrad

Through the double doors and down the hallway, a hum rose from the locker room, where reporters peppered the team about their win against the Florida Chill.

A win that’d had Conrad scoring one of the three goals.

Her picture, the one with Penelope wearing his jersey, had probably already hit social media, but she hadn’t even looked.

Instead, she put her hand over her other ear, still listening to herself. “Over the last few episodes, we’ve dissected alibis, motives, and secrets. In the end, Franco’s actions were driven by a tangled web of greed and panic. It’s a classic motive, yet it never ceases to disturb how these base instincts can drive one to the unthinkable.”

Harper gave her the thumbs-up, clearly happy with the monologue she’d helped write.

“In our quest for truth, we encountered numerous moments when panic could have swayed our judgment, when fear could have clouded our path. But here, in this space we’ve created together, we chose to push through. We chose to seek out the truth, believing firmly that it would prevail.”

Sounds came from down the hallway, where a few players had emerged. She spotted Wyatt Marshall, the goalie, pushing through the double doors, his hair still wet, carrying a bag over his shoulder. His wife Coco and their son ran over from where they sat on a sofa near the door. He caught them up.Sweet.

“And this brings us to a vital lesson, one that transcends the confines of our podcast and applies to every aspect of our lives: We must never let panic dictate our actions. Fear is a powerful motivator, yes, but it’s also a misleading guide. It propels us toward quick fixes, urgent cover-ups, and, as in Franco’s case, disastrous decisions.”

This was her favorite part. She met Harper’s eyes.

“To quote a wise woman I know, ‘It’s always the right time to do the right thing.’ This isn’t just a saying—it’s a principle. As we close this chapter and this case, I encourage you, my listeners, to be not just seekers of mystery but also seekers of truth in your own lives. Challenge the shadows of fear and greed. Embrace the light of honesty and integrity. And remember, the truth is not just about finding answers—it’s about finding peace.”

The outro music played. “And now, as we part ways, I leave you with a quote from the queen of mystery herself, Agatha Christie: ‘The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to seekers after it.’ This isPenny for Your Thoughts.Remember, in a world full of puzzles, your thoughts might just be the missing piece. See you next time—toodles!”

She clicked pause on her phone and removed her EarPod.

“It’s perfect,” Harper said, handing her the one from her ear. “So, what’s your next case?”

She put the EarPods back in their case. “I think maybe I’ll take a break.”

“What?” Jack said. “I think we can find you something riveting.” He’d pocketed his phone, glancing through the double door.

Oh, she already had something riveting, and he was walking toward her, his blond hair wet and curly, long around his ears, his beard trimmed, those perfect red highlights turning him into a sort of Norse warrior.

His gaze on her landed in her bones and lit them, a spark in his blue eyes suggesting he’d seen her on the jumbotron rooting for him.

Her man.

Harper stepped up to her. “By the way, did he mention if he’s getting traded?”

“I think after Dad found out how he saved my life, he might have found an advocate.” She looked at Harper. “But for the record, where he goes, I go.”

Harper raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that, Miss I’m Taking Measurements for My Stuff in the Jack-o’-Bus.”

Harper laughed and King Con came out through the open doors, took two steps, dropped his duffel, and swept Penelope up in an embrace.

Her feet left the floor, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, her mouth pressed to his.

All in, for the world to see.

He tasted of some energy drink he’d consumed, and smelled of the woods, spice, the soap from his shower, and felt like a man who would reach into the darkness to pull her free.

Had done that, actually.

He leaned back. “This is serious PDA.”

“Get used to it.” She kissed him again but then let him put her down. He took her hand in his.

“Nice jersey.”

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