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“Got it. Let me know if you have anything, and I’ll keep Devante posted.”

The cops were just finishing up their report when we arrived. I grinned to see my police pal Jake exiting the store wearing his hat and going over his notes. “Hey, you.”

He looked up, stared, and broke into a smile. “Skyler the coffee-swilling reporter.”

“Just here for a gas station hot dog.”

“Sure you are.” He glanced behind him. “Not much of a story hereunless there’s wasted-chip outrage. Does your station cover that kind of thing?”

“It does. When I heard the chips were caught up in all this, I raced over to fight for justice.”

He nodded, not at all buying it and catching me looking at his notes. “Something I can help you with, nosy?”

“Do we know the perp’s name, and is it Seth?”

“We do not. And Seth?” He studied me. “What do you know?”

“Between you and me, there was a similar incident about three miles from here a few weeks ago. Perp got scared and fired his gun into the floor. Young white guy, goes by the name of Seth, which is a fantastic criminal name if you ask me. It’s what I would choose.”

I could tell from the look on his face that the description likely matched. “Seth, huh?” He made a note in the margin of his little pad. “Interesting.” As my eyes scanned his unreadable scribbles, he flipped the notebook closed before I could get much. “Saw your story. You kept your word.”

“Always. I promised you anonymity. I would never go back on that. In fact, I owe you for the intel.” I leaned in. “I know where to find free chips. You don’t even have to open the bag.”

He grinned. “You’re pretty good at this reporter thing.”

“Aww, shucks, Jake. Anything you can tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Fair enough. Until next time?”

“You bet.”

I headed inside and joined Ty, who’d already gotten B-roll of the store and the chip fiasco. We were luckily there just in time for crumbs galore. The story on its own wouldn’t likely make the broadcast, but I had a feeling it would feed into a larger narrative if I was patient enough. I could play the long game. One of my strengths. I turned to the clerk. “Could we get just a few moments with you on camera? We want to hear your story.”

He straightened his T-shirt and stood three inches taller. I smothered a grin. Everyone loved being on TV.

“And where have you been?” Carrie asked when I arrived back at my desk an hour later.

“Quirky robberies are afoot. Chips are paying the price. I must right this wrong.”

“Quirky, you say?”

“It’s too early to talk about, but it could be interesting.” I paused.“Your eyes look extra blue today, and you seem energized. Why is that?”

“Hmm. Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

I opened my laptop. “Hot date?”

“Jury is still out on that one.” She didn’t linger. Picked up her makeup bag and left for the studio while I tried to figure out exactly what our last exchange had meant. Was she talking about us? Some other person she was seeing this week? So many possibilities. I wasn’t complaining. Because when Carrie was around these days, my skin tingled and my world hummed pleasantly with the kind of electricity that made everything feel purposeful and fun. Plus, a little mystery never hurt anyone.

* * *

When the weekend came, I was surprised to see that Carrie’s house was smaller than I would have guessed, given her fame and reputation. She was San Diego elite, appearing on billboard ads and serving as the face of a number of different charities. Her home, however, was a modest one-story stucco, not on the beach, but two blocks in. It did come with some pretty fantastic landscaping, though. I’d give her that. I followed the winding sidewalk through all sorts of greenery of varying heights with little pops of color coming from flowers I couldn’t name if I tried. I wondered if Carrie had done all this herself, and then remembered how busy she was and likely rich.

“What’s caught your interest out there?”

I looked up, the sweating bottle of wine I carried by the neck dropped at my side. My offering. “I was just admiring your curvy garden walk. It’s beautiful.” I’d worn a casual purple sundress and flat sandals, which thankfully seemed to line up with her red halter top and cropped faded jeans. I took a minute to absorb the very casual version of her. She had ten years on me, but today, you’d never know it. Today, she appeared youthful and bright-eyed, her blond hair down with the longest layers falling well beyond her shoulders.

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