My eyes pricked with tears. “You’d go with me?”
Layna smiled and gave the tiniest of nods.
“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that,” I said.
The flirty grandpa passed us on his way out, pausing to give a little bow to Layna. “Au revoir, mademoiselle.”
“Au revoir,monprince,” Layna said.
I gave her a look as the beaming grandpa exited the coffee shop.
“What? I have to practice my game on someone,” Layna said. “So say we pop Baylee’s SIM into a working phone and see what Errol actually texted her. It might be incriminating enough to hand over to the police. Especially if we have grenades and plans for Day of the Rope too.”
“I don’t want to mess with grenades,” I said.
“Fine, we’ll leave the grenades.”
“Baylee won’t be happy to see us instead of Connor,” I said.
“We can tell her Connor’s scared of Errol. He got cold feet. He was too ashamed to tell her himself. Blah blah blah.” Layna considered. “I think it could work.”
Burgdorf had always been such a safe happy place for me when I was a kid. Still, I sure as hell wouldn’t go out there to meet some guy named Ralphie the Lizard. But if Layna and I were together, there couldn’t be much harm in meeting with one woman. I took another bite of donut. “I really don’t want to go to the cops. Not unless it’s clear someone else killed Connor.”
“If we’ve got solid evidence Errol probably did it, I think you could get immunity for stashing a body in a residential neighborhood,” Layna said. “The police won’t like that you went citizen rogue, but they’ll have to help you out if you’ve thwarted an attempt by the IDIOTs to blow up the Idaho State Legislature. And you wouldn’t have to spend your life worrying you’re about to”—she leaned in and whispered—“go to prison for killing someone who’s better off dead.”
I shook my head to clear it of Layna’s convincing argument. “I still think I better ask Agent Duran to help me. Maybe I should have the girls join his soccer team.”
“Do not believe for one second that just because you want to bone aman, he’ll rescue you and make all your problems go away!” she cried, so loudly the remaining grandpas turned to look. Her tone softened. “I may not know whether or not I’m being DMed from the moon, but even I know better than that.”
But Layna’s bossiness couldn’t change the fact I still hoped the ATF might go to Burgdorf and seize the evidence and explosives. Which meant it was time for the twins to learn how to bend it like Beckham.
Twenty-One
With its fake turf, fluorescent lights, and screaming kids, indoor soccer practice was the fifth circle of hell. The sole bright spot was an unfettered chance to ogle Agent Nate Duran from afar. I wasn’t the only one admiring him—when he bent down to scoop up an errant ball, the moms sitting in the bleachers stared like a gaggle of hungry pigeons watching a loosely attended basket of fries.
“Is it just me or is the new assistant coach hotter than a two-dollar pistol?” one mom said. She was naturally beautiful in a way that made me want to go home and exfoliate.
Instead of plunking down near the other moms, I’d settled in a little ways away. I didn’t have the energy to make friends. But I always had energy for eavesdropping.
“I heard that two-dollar pistol works for the ATF,” another mom said. She rocked a messy mom bun and eyelash extensions that gave her the look of a minor Kardashian. “I’d like him to take me on a stakeout. It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten busy in a car, but I’ve been going to yoga. I think I’m ready.”
The other moms busted up. Clearly these ladies were more fun than I’d expected.
To occupy myself, I texted Layna a photo of Matt Damon fromThe Martian.
Tilly:Do you think it’s possible this guy is texting me from Mars? I just matched with him on Tinder.
Layna:HAHA I hate you.
As I slipped my phone back into my purse, my fingers brushed the BuckSnort bottlecap again. If that bit of detritus was a clue to where I’d been Sunday night, I still couldn’t decipher it.
When Agent Nate Duran spotted me, his bright smile made me feel like a stick of butter floating on the surface of a warm pan. The other moms shot me assessing glances.
I get it, ladies, I wanted to say.He seems too good to be true. But we all know that means he probably is.
When the head coach blew his whistle for a break, the minor Kardashian mom took a tray of sliced oranges out to share with the team. Alice was busy chasing around a towering girl with waist-length black hair I recognized from the twins’ class and who I’d secretly dubbed the Beautiful Giant. Phoebe grabbed an orange slice, forcing the rind under her lips to create an orange smile.
As Agent Duran jogged toward the stands, the moms’ chatter faded and they held a hopeful collective breath. He stopped right in front of me, flashing such a high-wattage smile that it shielded me from the rays of jealousy coming from the other women.
