“You said you thought he just fell on the hair net.”
“That was before we knew the other information. He could have fallen on it. Or it could have blown out of the car when she hit him. Or who knows?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You really think someone would commit murder over a kid being cut from a high school football team?”
He placed his napkin in his lap, smoothed it, and went back to his egg roll. “You think someone would murder over stolen plays?”
Point taken. “But at least Paulie said it out loud. He made threats, got in Farley’s face. She moved to get away from the guy.”
“Or she moved to give herself an alibi. We’ve got forensic evidence,” he said. “More than just the hair net. She was on the scene. There’s no doubt about it.”
I thought about the witness statement. Agnes Tellerman had said nothing about anyone being on the scene. In fact, what she’d said had seemed the exact opposite—they hit and before she could even look, they were gone. She was adamant about that.
“What kind of evidence?”
He finished off his egg roll, chewed and swallowed, thinking. Outside, Mister Wok patted Louise’s back sympathetically. “I can’t share that with you just yet.”
“Wait,” I said. “She was on the scene. Afterwards. She was standing next to me watching the chief collect the evidence.” But she hadn’t been wearing a hair net. “Isn’t that a problem for your case? She couldn’t be standing next to me if she was driving the car, right?”
“Maybe. Or she could have just parked in the upper lot and hurried down to the scene in order to make herself look innocent. We’re still working it. I’m just telling you that’s where the case is going. There is literally no evidence against Paulie Henderson.”
“Not true,” I said. “We have a verbal threat, a threatening email, and a stolen playbook that we got out of Farley’s office. And you were there when Paulie’s Jeep was in the shop for ‘hitting a bird.’” I made air quotes with my fingers. “But did either of us really get to see how much damage that bird caused? Was it really bird-sized damage, or was it more coach-sized?” I hadn’t gotten a close look. And I had no idea how much or what kind of damage hitting a human would do to your car. I made a mental note to do some research.
“About that playbook,” he said. “How did you get it?”
“That’s a minor detail.” He bored into me with those eyes. “I kind of stole it. But when you steal from a thief, the two thefts cancel each other out.”
His mouth opened and closed, as if he didn’t know what part of what I’d just said he wanted to tackle first. He shook his head lost-cause-style. “And what does the email say?”
“The same things Paulie said at the game. Basically, ‘You’re dead to me.’ Only without the ‘to me’ part.”
This seemed to give Brooks pause. I could see him mulling over how incriminating this was. But then he seemed to make a decision.
He went back to eating, silent and contemplative. I missed the dimples.
“So what is University of Chicago like?” he finally said. “I’ll bet it’s huge.”
I picked up my fork. Clearly our information exchange was over and this was back to being an actual date.
I could have done worse.
He had given me something about the case. A big something. Maybe I should give him his date.
Plus, I liked him.
It was within the realm of possibility that I could enjoy this, too. I gave him a thin grin. “It’s the best school,” I said. “Really beautiful. You should visit it sometime.”
Chapter 19
By the time Brooks dropped me off at home, we were full to our eyeballs with rice and soy sauce, and were sleepy from sitting on the Cicada River Bridge watching the water slowly shift and roll. Brooks was easy to talk to. He was funny. He was smart. We had things in common. All in all, it was a nice date.
It was nice if you didn’t consider all the things we couldn’t talk about, that is. Paulie. Evangeline. The witness. The case in general. I was left with a whole lot of questions and zero answers and I wasn’t sure how exactly I felt about that.
“So I guess I’ll be seeing you around,” Brooks said as we sat in his car at the curb in front of my house.
“Was this a date for you, really?” I asked. “Or was it an assignment? Or a little bit of both?”
His eyebrows knitted together. “It was a date. I told you.”
“He didn’t assign you at all?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I’m supposed to keep an eye on you. But this wasn’t about that.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “But, for me, there will always be that doubt, you know? Does he want to be with me or was he ordered to be with me?”
“Trust me, he wants to be with you.” He plucked my hand off his shoulder and briefly clasped his own around it. My pulse fluttered. “Henderson doesn’t even know I’m here. And he would kill me if he knew what I’ve told you about the case. I’m meeting you halfway, Hollis. More than halfway, really.”
“I know,” I said. I managed a weak smile, because I was pretty sure that I did know—but knowing was scary. “Maybe we’ll go out again after the case is over.”
“Sure,” he said. “Yeah. Of course.”
We nodded at each other like a couple of acquaintances, and then I got out of the car.
“Goodnight, Hollis,” he said through the rolled-down passenger window.
I turned. I could still see the blue in his eyes, even peering out of the dark shadows of his car. “Goodnight.”
I stood in my driveway and watched Brooks pull away. I waved goodbye, then lingered for a moment, appreciating the crisp smell of nighttime while I thought about what potential we had as
