Page 36 of Single Teddy
I leaned forward and looked him straight in the eyes, my nostrils filling with that lavender scent that was unmistakably him.
“What were you doing in that house?”
He frowned.
“What house?” he asked.
“The house on Aster Lane. What were you doing there?”
He narrowed his eyes and grimaced before he said, “Are you following me?”
“That depends,” I said.
“On what?”
“On what you were doing there,” I said.
“I was paying a visit to a student’s house. Why do you care?”
“Is that all?” I asked.
“Ye-yeah,” he answered, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest.
He ran a hand over his face and recomposed himself as I connected the dots and recognized the still-present fear in his body language, even though we were miles away from that house.
“Are you okay? You look terrified?”
“You mean more terrified than I should be with a parent shouting in my face for no reason?”
“I didn’t shout at you.”
Had I?
“I…I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Oh.”
He must be talking about the man on Aster Lane.
He was a parent?
I hadn’t seen any kids around the house, but then again, I’d only done a few stakeouts, and those had been during school hours.
“What happened?”
Wesley shook his head, took his seatbelt off, and opened the door.
I stepped aside to allow him to exit as Joey approached us.
“It’s nothing. Wh-what is this?” Wesley asked when he saw Joey. “What are you doing here? What were you doing on Aster Lane?”
“You’re Mac’s teacher, aren’t you?” Joey asked without missing a beat or softening his hardened expression.
“Was. Not this year,” Wesley answered. “Do I know you?”
“This is Joey Fowler. An old teammate,” I said.
“Joey? The burger Joey?” Wesley asked.
