Page 33 of Reading Between the Lines
“You should be lucky we’ve taken time away from our busy schedule to look into this case. If there’s nothing to investigate, we’ll learn that soon enough on our own and be out of your hair. Believe me, my surly partner over there is not a fan of twiddling his thumbs with noncases. Ask me, I know. I brought him a doozy of a noncase a couple of months ago, and he almost went ballistic. To be fair, it was regarding a psychic who I wasconvinced was killing people with mind control. Spoiler alert. She wasn’t. It’s not a thing, but it turned out to be a whopper of a real case in the end, and we found out that—”
“Tallus.” I was proud of how well I controlled my tone, considering I wanted nothing more than to go outside into the fresh air and scream myself hoarse.
“I’m rambling. Bad habit. Anyhow. The teacher who runs the newspaper. Does he have a name?” Tallus asked Delaney, ignoring the smoke from Irvin’s and my ears.
“Hugh Abercrombie. He’s a lovely man. He’s been helping Weston with university applications. He says Weston will…would havegone far.”
“And he also runs the writing club?” Tallus asked.
“Yes.”
“Who’s the girlfriend?” I asked.
Delaney stopped short of rolling her eyes. “Her name is Londyn Brydges.”
I deadpanned—certain I’d heard her wrong.
Tallus snorted. “I’m sorry… You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was.”
***
We left the Mandels, and Tallus directed me to the high school. Dusk blanketed the town, and it started to rain. The left wiper moved a sodden rotting leaf over the windshield, smearing my vision of the street. The temperature hovered near freezing, and I had a hunch that once the sun fully descended, the rain would turn to ice pellets, and the roads would be slick.
I was in two camps about the short story, both trusting Tallus’s hunch yet figuring the police had already dug as deep as possible and had found nothing because there was nothing to find. Part of me wanted to call a spade a spade and hit the highway beforethe weather turned. Another part wanted to spend a few days screwing around in Port Hope to earn a few extra bucks at the expense of a grieving mother. It was shameful but desperate times and all.
However, staying meant more time at the wretched B&B, and in less than a day, I was about out of patience with that place.
More time at the B&B also meant sharing a bed with Tallus.
My stomach fluttered at the thought, and I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear. Probably both.
I was a mess.
“It’s after school hours,” Tallus said, breaking into my thoughts. “We may be shit out of luck. Why don’t we come back first thing in the morning?”
I glanced at the time on the dash. It was nearing five. Tallus was right. The likelihood of teachers being at the school was slim, but I didn’t want to put this off another day.
“What if there’s a meeting with the newspaper or this writing club? Clubs and shit meet after hours, right?”
“Maybe. I guess we can check.”
A nearly vacant parking lot greeted us a few minutes later. My hope of forming opinions about Weston’s possible accident and heading home died. Maybe I was sad, and maybe I wasn’t. I tried not to focus too closely on my emotions.
Tallus squinted out the rain-spattered windshield. “Someone’s here. Want to try the doors?”
“Probably just a janitor.”
“Or a teacher. Let’s at least see if the doors are unlocked and walk around. If anyone stops us, we tell them we’re looking for Hugh What’s-His-Name. It’s legit.”
I considered our options—return to the Pink Palace of Hell or wander aimlessly around an empty school—and killed the engine. The wipers stalled mid-swipe, and the leaf clung for dear life to the left blade.
The thunderous patter of rain on the hardtop kept us company. Neither of us moved, deterred by the prospect of getting soaked.
I side-eyed Tallus. “Quiz time.”
His gorgeous hazel eyes widened behind his come-fuck-me glasses, and he tipped his head back with a groan. “Noooo. Not now.”
