Page 22 of Stay in Your Lane!

“You don’t think he did, though.”

“No. I don’t. So right now, anything is possible.”

She nodded, though she was visibly uncomfortable.

“Do you know how we can reach Leon?” I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle. “Because I think it would be helpful to talk to him.”

She hesitated, but then took her phone out of her purse. As she scrolled her contacts, she said, “I don’t think Ricky killed himself. I have no idea who would’ve killed him or why, but suicide?” She shook her head emphatically. “People who do that usually show at least some signs, you know? Like depression, or not being themselves, or… something?”

“Usually,” I said. “There was nothing with him? No sign? Giving away personal belongings? Suddenly going from depressed to really upbeat and happy? Nothing like that?”

“No, not at all.” She put her phone on the table and slid it across to me with Leon’s contact showing. I pushed it toward Everett, who entered it into his own phone.

While he did that, I said to Rosie, “You mentioned he was on parole, right?”

“Mmhmm. Both of them. They were… They’ll be the first to tell you they were shitheads when they were teenagers. But they both got their GEDs while they were in prison, and they’ve been working hard to live right ever since.”

“Aside from dealing drugs?” Everett asked casually as he handed back her phone.

“Well, Leon, yeah.” Rosie pushed her phone into her purse. “Honestly, he’s not a bad guy either. But he’s had a hard time making ends meet since he’s been out. He’s got a baby on the way, too, plus he already has a daughter from when he was a teenager. He’s not a hardened criminal or anything—he’s just got bills to pay and has a hard time getting hired with a felony on his record.”

“I understand that,” I said. “Okay, we’ll talk to him.” I turned to Everett. “Maybe he can help us make sense of things.”

CHAPTER 7

EVERETT

We didn’t waste time trying to get in touch with Leon. The second Rosie and little Sara left the diner, Kyle tried to call him. Easier said than done. Leon, it turned out, screened his calls. We each tried once, then twice—nothing got through either time. The most we could do was leave messages letting him know we wanted to talk to him about Ricky and that we totally weren’t cops. I mean, I threw that intomymessage Kyle didn’t, but Leon probably appreciated knowing it. Then I checked my phone, because I didn’t want to miss a shift at the mortuary, but my sister had it covered. I felt a little bad about that, seeing as how she was only doing it because she wanted to think about things thatweren’ther ex-fiancé, but I’d offer to cover some shifts for her later, because…

“Do you have anything else to do right now?”

Kyle looked over at me from where he was lifting his near-empty cup of coffee. “Like what?”

“Like…work, maybe?” I wouldn’t push if he had work, I knew he took his job really seriously.

“I was planning on grocery shopping.” He must have seen my face fall, because he followed it up with, “Why? Didyouhave something in mind?”

I beamed at him. “Yes! I want to meet Steve!”

Kyle almost choked on the dregs of his drink. I reached out and pounded him on the back, trying not to dwell too much on how firm his muscles were under there. He waved my hand off—“I’m fine *cough* I’m fine”—and drank some water before looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “You want to meet Steve.”

“Yes.”Omigosh so much.

“You get that Steve is a piranha, right?”

“Yes!” That was half the appeal right there!

“But… he’s afish.It’s not like you’re going to be able to cuddle him or shake his fin or?—”

“Dude.” I cut him off. “I’m being totally honest here when I say that I have never wanted to meet a pet more than I want to meet Steve. That includes the trailer park cat, and you saw how much troublethatgave me.”

He hid his grin behind his hands, but I could see it in his eyes. “I think it’s more the raccoons that gave you issues there.”

“Exactly, and yet I persevered. I want to meet Steve. And Gladys, and Bill. And Patches and Jeff, if they’re into it.”

“Jeff is always into getting petted by some poor sucker,” Kyle informed me. “If you’re not careful you’ll never get rid of him.”

“In what universe would I want to get rid of a cat?” Some hideous hellscape of a universe was all I could think of. I mean, who didn’t love cats? Well, fine, people with allergies, that was fair. Maybe people with small children who didn’t have the fine motor control to respect a cat’s delicate dance of“look but don’t touch…fine you can touch…too much touching!!!”People with dogs that didn’t like cats, I guess. Although that was more of an owner problem than a dog problem as far as I was concerned. People who didn’t bother to train their dogs weren’t responsiblehuman beings. Did they bother to potty train their kids? Do their taxes? “Do you think there’s a correlation between training dogs and social responsibility?”

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