He says, “It’s about Brittany. I just got off the phone with her.”
Warm relief flows through me that he’s not hunting me down to say he’s arresting my dad. “What’s going on?”
“I had a suspicion about something.” Dylan draws a deep breath. “One of the reasons she left was because of you and me.”
“What? That makes zero sense!”
“She thought it’d be easier for us to be together if she wasn’t in the picture. I guess you told her that the two of you are a nonnegotiable package deal.”
“Exactly.” I raise my hands in frustration. “I thought by telling her that, she’d understand I’d never dump her because of a man like her mom did.” I hate that she could ever think that.
He nods as he stares out the windshield. “Is it one of the reasons we aren’t together?” He slowly turns his head and meets my gaze.
“No! I know you understand Brittany is my responsibility.” I take Dylan’s hand. “It’s not a problem for you, is it?” Oh, man. What if he’s changed his mind? I couldn’t bear to choose between them. However, it looks like Brittany wanted to take that possibility off the table for me too.
Dylan sighs. “It’s never been a problem to watch you be a mother to a kid who really needed you. In fact, I think it’s made me fall deeper in love with you.” He squeezes my hand. “And I told Brittany that. I also told her we’re all miserable without her.”
“You miss her too?” A big smile stretches my lips. “I wondered if you’d be happy raising someone else’s kid rather than starting fresh with our own.”
“Are we going to do that? Start fresh and have kids one day?” Dylan leans closer and whispers, “Even if I had to arrest your father?”
I’ve thought about that every moment since the possibility arose. “Yes. Even then. I might not cook your favorite things for a while as punishment, but in the end, you’d only be doing your job.”
“Good to hear.” Dylan smiles for the first time in days. “But your dad’s off the hook. We have some new evidence from your Aunt Carol that saved him.”
Whew, that’s a relief, but Dylan could have led with that fact. “That was mean, but great news.” I poke him in the arm. “What new evidence did you find?”
“Carol gave me some pictures and videos this morning when we spoke. She’d had someone following your uncle to gather evidence for the cheating clause in their prenup. The man volunteered to help backstage so he could record your uncle. I saw your dad pouring vodka from his flask into the cup in the background of one of the pictures. And the diner footage cleared Max of tampering with Tina’s food.” He holds out his hands. “I’ll help you with these books.”
“Thanks.” I pass him the stack. “But does that mean the man has pictures of the murderer?”
“Maybe. But I can’t figure out how they did it. Without knowing that, I can’t make an arrest.”
I get out and meet Dylan on his side of the car. “Was Beth, right? Was it a woman who killed Tina?” I mean, really, she had a fifty-fifty chance at that guess.
Dylan hitches up the books with one arm and takes my hand with the other. “I can’t tell you that.” We start up the steps, dodging the occasional kid who didn’t escape within moments of the bell.
So frustrating. “The book club thinks it’s either my uncle, Pattie, or Emily.”
“Makes sense.” Dylan drops my hand to open the door for us. “Except for Pattie. She was originally supposed to get the roses Tina got.”
I stop in my tracks. “You think the roses were the murder weapon?”
Dylan grabs my hand and tugs again. “I didn’t say that.”
He didn’t have to. I can tell he’s considering the theory. I run the possibilities through my head as we walk down the quiet hall toward Emily’s classroom. Dylan thinks the murderer is either my uncle or Emily. “Were you coming to talk to Emily when you saw me?”
“Yes.” A ghost of a smile tilts Dylan’s lips. “But I was going to find you next.”
Okay. He’s on a mission too. But his has nothing to do with returning a textbook. “Is there anything you’d like me to do when we talk with Emily?”
We stop walking, and he leans closer. “How about you act like you’re returning the textbooks and your boyfriend is just tagging along? Idly check out what the kids have been working on in the back display. Maybe something will click.”
“I can do that.” But now my stomach has a swarm of bees buzzing around inside. It’s nerve-racking to think we might be in the same room as the murderer.
We turn the last corner before Emily’s classroom, and she’s opening the door to the nearby teacher’s lounge. She doesn’t appear to see us, so I start to call out to her, but Dylan’s big hand slides over my mouth.
After the door closes behind Emily, Dylan whispers, “Let’s go have a look in her classroom before she gets back.” He drops his hand from my face.
“What are we looking for?”
“We’ll know if we see it. Come on. Let’s hurry.” Dylan jogs the rest of the way to the classroom.
I’m following behind, but he’s faster than me. When I arrive in the science lab, Dylan is looking through cabinets that hold chemicals and beakers. Probably looking for the poison.
I wander back to where the kids’ current hypothesis assignment hangs. They’re being tasked to find out what the most common blood type is. It’s O. I remember doing the same experiment. But now the kids can just google it. It surprises me that Emily hasn’t updated her materials to something more challenging.
I move along the row of animals in the back, checking out the various poster boards on the walls above the cages with past experiments the kids have completed. Nothing has to do with poisons, however.
A cute little hamster is
