Page 23

Special Agent Jack Stone

“Can I help you?” Alicia Adams sheds an easy smile, the same easy smile I remember right here on the holy grounds of Aspen Heights High.

I probably should have clarified to Fallon that Alicia and I didn’t date, but she probably wouldn’t believe me.

“Hey, it’s me, Jack Stone. Not sure if you remember me but?—”

“Jackie,” she howls as she puts down her bag on the bench lining the wall next to her, and before I know it, I’m engulfed in a rocking embrace. “Oh my word, you look exactly the same.” She leans back and shakes her head as she inspects me. “Well, maybe with the exception of this.” She laughs as she gives my facial scruff a quick scratch. “So what brings you here? Do you have a student coming this way in the fall?” She looks at Fallon and gasps. “Is this your wife?” She laughs with glee at the thought. “Alicia Adams, so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Fallon says but leaves the formal intros to me.

“Actually”—I wince. “She’s a coworker.”

“Oh? So you’re still single?” She laughs again before looking at Fallon. “You had better snatch this one up quick. Our reunion is just days away, and once those witches find out he’s on the market, there’s going to be a turf war all over again.” She bites down on her lip as she inspects me one more time. “Can you believe it’s been twenty years?”

“It seems like forever ago and yesterday all at once,” I say. “I miss those days, especially when all we had to worry about was pop quizzes and football games.”

“And you were an ace at both,” she says. “It really does feel like just yesterday we were planning our senior prank.”

“Oh?” Fallon perks up. “Do tell.”

“We filled all of the administrative offices with balloons—and those balloons were loaded with confetti,” she says with a laugh. “Nothing illegal and it was all in good fun.”

“That’s right,” I say. “In fact, I’m still keeping it on the straight and narrow when it comes to the law.” I flash my badge her way. “I’m with the FBI now.”

Her expression darkens a notch. “Oh wow.” She leans in. “I guess you heard the news about Robin and Brittney.”

“We have,” Fallon says. “I’m Special Agent Fallon Baxter.”

“I see.” Alicia’s voice grows in amusement. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you,” I say softly before turning to Fallon. “Alicia was our class president. She knew everything about this place back in the day, and I’m assuming the same holds true now.” I turn back her way. “And you’re also in charge of the reunion. That’s quite the undertaking. Thank you for the effort.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She gives a little laugh. “And I have a small army helping me out behind the scenes. And look at you, from high school prankster to FBI agent, huh? I always knew you’d end up somewhere interesting, Jackie. So what’s going on with Brittney? Have you found her? What about the nutcase that killed Robin?” Her eyes enlarge as she awaits an answer.

“We don’t know where Brittney is and we don’t know who killed Robin. It’s a mess,” I tell her. “But any insight you have on Brittney or Robin, anything at all, could really help us out. And that’s exactly what I’m hoping for today.”

“Oh geez.” She rocks back on her heels as she glances to the sky. “They were both pretty active in our Facebook group. We’ve met up every couple of years as a group, too. Not everyone comes to those things, but they did. I remember Robin had just gotten married a few years back. She was so happy. And Brittney was always between men.”

“Do you know who she dated recently?” Fallon asks.

“Oh geez.” Alicia taps her fingers to her lips. “I don’t know, but she had a history with Derek. I think they were off and on forever. But then again, those girls used to share him like a pair of used shoes back in the day.” She gives a hearty laugh. “You weren’t far behind.” She taps me on the elbow. “I guess I don’t know that much about them. Robin had volunteered to help with the reunion, but I already had a brigade by then. I told her I’d get back to her as it got closer if I needed anything. I’m so sorry for what their poor families are going through.”

I’m about to agree just as a familiar light-haired brunette speeds this way.

“Nessa,” I say with a cheerful smile. “Glad to see you again. And glad to see your gait hasn’t been affected.”

“Jackie?” She pulls me close a moment before nodding to Fallon. “Special Agent Baxter. What’s going on? Did you find Brittney?”

“No, actually.” I sigh. “We were just in the area and I thought I’d show off my old stomping grounds. I thought maybe I’d speak with Alicia and here she is.”

“What did you tell them?” Nessa bites the air with the question as she looks at Alicia. Maybe Alicia is the key to this after all.

“Nothing.” Alicia scrambles to pick up her tote bag once again. “I don’t know anything at all.” She offers a forlorn smile at the two of us. “I’m so sorry. But please tell me I’ll see you both this Saturday night.”

“You will,” Fallon assures her. “I can’t wait.”

“And I can’t wait to get our groove on and hit the dance floor,” she says, walking backward. “Jackie, you’re not getting out of there without cutting loose with me first.” She waves and quickly ducks out of the hallway.

“I’m so glad you’re both coming,” Nessa says. “I hear they’re going to have a memorial for Robin and some kind of a vigil for Brittney, too. I think it’s good. We might get some answers.” She holds up a small milk carton with a paintbrush sticking out of it that’s slicked with crimson paint, so dark it almost looks like chocolate. “I’d better get going. I’m the leader of this catastrophe.” She laughs as she nods to the mural.

“That’s right,” I say. “You’re the art teacher around here.”

“It’s going to be beautiful,” Fallon says.

“I hope so.” Nessa sighs back at the wall of wonder. “The kids helped me design it. I’m in charge of filling in the flowers. I thought I’d throw in some poppies along with the blue columbine.” She plucks the brush out of the carton briefly as if to prove her point.

“The columbine is the state flower,” I say. “Nice touch.”

“You better believe I’m putting blood, sweat, and tears into it,” she teases. “Good luck with the investigation. Can’t wait for Saturday night.”

“Oh, before I forget.” Fallon digs a business card out of her purse and hands it to the woman. “My sister owns Pick-it-Clean. She felt so bad about what happened on your mother’s property, she offered her services for free if you need them. She hauls away anything you don’t want to deal with.”

“Really?” Her eyes expand. “I could really use something like this. That place is filled to the brim. In fact, it’s just the tip of the iceberg. My mother owns a couple of other properties in the area that are still filled with old junk. I’m an only child and my father has passed as well. So it’s all on me. I hope your sister is ready for the onslaught. Please thank her for this. Or on second thought, I’ll thank her myself when I give her a call.”

We say goodbye, and soon Fallon and I are headed back to the parking lot.

“Thoughts?” I ask as a group of students fly past us as if they can’t get out of here fast enough.

“Alicia sure hit the road as soon as Nessa came out.”

“I thought the same thing, but it’s probably nothing. Or it’s probably something. They might have a tiff going. They’re coworkers. I’ll get to the bottom of it Saturday night.”

“And I’ll be right there as you’re getting the dirt—while we get our groove on,” she teases, echoing Alicia’s words and I frown.

I’m not exactly a fan of the dance floor.

We land back in the truck just as Hale shoots us a message.

Another body just turned up.