Page 20 of Stay in Your Lane!

My heart sped up.

Please, please don’t let this be a dead end.

The hostess showed Rosie to the table and helped her get the baby situated in a high chair while I put my phone—which was recording—facedown beside my glass.

I was always a little awkward with kids, especially when they were that little, but Everett was immediately enraptured with Rosie’s baby. He was sitting closer, and he made faces and silly voices that had the baby giggling. Even if kids weren’t really my cup of tea, I couldn’t lie—the way Everett entertained this one was adorable.

“Sorry I was running a little late.” Rosie met my gaze across the table. “I had to pick up Sara from my mom’s house.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “We really appreciate you meeting us at all.”

She swallowed, glancing back and forth between us. “I… wasn’t sure if I should. I guess…” She sat up a little, pushed her shoulders back, and narrowed her eyes. “What exactly do you think happened to Ricky?”

“We don’t think he killed himself.” Everett glanced at her—he was letting the baby play with his car keys now, and he mostly kept his attention on her. “The scene just didn’t add up, you know?”

Rosie fidgeted. “How would you even know? Are you guys reporters or something?”

We both shook our heads.

“I do crime scene cleanup.” I gestured at Everett. “He’s a body removal specialist.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Then her eyes flicked to his hand, which the baby was grasping while she tugged at the keys with her other.

“I washed my hands, don’t worry,” Everett proclaimed.

“Oh. Um.” She shifted again. “Okay. So… I guess, um… What do you want to know?”

“For one thing,” I said, “did Rick own a pair of Air Force 1s?”

“Air Force—?” She studied me. “You mean the shoes?” When I nodded, she guffawed. “Oh, God, no.” Shaking her head vigorously, she gave a little halfhearted laugh. “He had a friend who wears them, but Ricky thought they were the biggest waste of money ever. Like, I literally had to drag him out last year to replace his sneakers because I’m pretty sure the laces were the only thing keeping them together.”

“A friend had them?” Everett asked. “Which friend?”

“I…” She blinked as if caught off guard by the question. “Uh. Leon Taylor. They worked together.”

“What did they do?”

“Construction. They’re both on parole, so that was about the only job they could get.”

I thumbed the edge of my menu again. “They work construction, and he could afford Air Force 1s?”

Rosie’s cheeks colored as she dropped her gaze to her own menu. “He, um… Leon wasn’tonlydoing construction.” We both watched her silently. She looked at us through her lashes, then sighed and dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. “Leon was… selling.. You know…” She gestured like she was smoking a joint, then tapped the inside of her elbow.

Ah. Got it.

But from the puzzled look beside me, Everett hadn’t caught on.

I leaned in and whispered, “Weed and heroin.”

“Oh.Right.” He nodded sharply. “Was, um… Was Rick involved in any of that?”

Rosie shook her head emphatically. “No, not at all. He got into meth a little when he was a teenager, but he got clean when he went to prison. Then his brother died from it, so he didn’twant anything to do with any of it.” She gave a sad little laugh. “He wouldn’t even drink.”

Everett and I exchanged looks, and I could see my own thoughts in his wide eyes.

So was the paraphernalia at the scene planted? Or was he lying to his girlfriend?

In fact…

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