RJ had once known the warmth of Daigon Colony, close enough to a star to benefit from the nearest thing resembling seasons like those on Earth. Earth was still a bucket-list item, an esteemed vacation spot, but a goal that always remained out of reach. Still, he imagined what autumn would be like there, rich colors of gold, red, and orange, spiced foods, and warm fires.

  A warm fire would be nice.

  His fingers flipped through the papers in his file, all of them about Red Hood and his cabal of anti-government activists. After months of action, and even some correspondence with the police, Red Hood seemed to disappear. But RJ knew he’d gone deep underground—literally, based on what he’d learned about the tunneling system beneath the surface of Siegel Colony Six.

  He only needed to know where.

  My cell phone rings. I turn the book facedown onto the bed and look at the illuminated screen: a selfie of my sister, with the contact name ANNA across her forehead. Her wavy blonde hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s making a funny face. She’s notorious for taking your phone when you’re not paying attention and spamming your camera roll with funny selfies.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  “Good evening. How’s Golden Shore?”

  “The same. How’s...where are you now?”

  “Dublin. Got a room in a B&B.”

  “What time is it there?” I try to do quick mental math, but the numbers run together. I need to go to sleep.

  “6:30 in the morning. But before I talk about Dublin, I went on a haunted tour of Whitechapel.”

  “Oh, no way.”

  Anna proceeds to give me every detail, from the dramatic performance of the tour guide to the jump-scares throughout the tour. “A haunted house experience, only it’s outside. A great way to end my stay in England.”

  “I’m so glad you did that. Did you get pictures?”

  “Loads. I’m going to email them to you soon. The B&B has a computer I can use.”

  “I can’t wait to see them.”

  “And today,” she says, “I’m going to learn how to shear a sheep.”

  This makes me chuckle. “You could barely wash the dog.”

  “Poor Rosco. He was so patient.”

  “And he always came out smelling worse than before. How did that happen?”

  “All right, all right. I’ll be completely supervised.” Then she burst out with, “Hey! Doesn’t Callum have family here?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I’d love to meet them, if they’re OK with that. Just for a meal or something.”

  “I’ll let him know. Send me the address of where you’re staying. They’ll definitely give you a few tips on sightseeing, too.”

  “OK, great. How’s he doing, by the way?”

  “He’s good. Policing. He told me I’d make a good detective.”

  “Really? What prompted that?”

  “Someone was murdered—one of my student’s parents.”

  “Oh, my God, Bailey. That’s awful.”

  “Yeah. I went to see them with some food—just some ice cream—and we got to talking. Well, the student’s mom mentioned something about her ex-husband and how he could’ve been embezzling from his job.”

  “Oh, wow. And that’s why he was killed?”

  “Could be. I told Callum what she said, and that’s what prompted the compliment in my sleuthing ability.”

  “That wouldn’t be a bad idea, Bay, if you ever got sick of teaching. You’re a good analyst.”

  “I don’t know if I’d want to be a cop, but I wouldn’t mind being a private investigator. The idea has merit.”

  “Yeah, that sounds fun. Imagine your name on a door—cloudy glass, just like in those black and white movies.”

  I chuckle. “So tell me about this guy. Hugh, right?”

  “Yeah. Hugh Leyton.”

  “Hugh Leyton,” I say with an exaggerated British accent.

  “I know, I know. It started out nice enough. We went on a couple of dates.”

  “But when you say it started out nice…”

  “He’s pretty clingy. I think he fell pretty fast.”

  “Well, you’re irresistible. But please be careful.” I suffer flashes of TV dramas where women on trips to foreign places meet unsavory characters.

  “He’s back in England, and I’m in a completely different country. No worries. I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

  “Yeah. A fleeting romance.”

  “Not even really a romance. He’s handsome, though. But I couldn’t see myself packing up and living here like that. Spur of the moment, no real plans.”

  “Just enjoy your trip and be careful and have the time of your life. Don’t worry about something like this. If it’ll be, then it’ll be.”

  “Philosophical and practical.” By the sound in her voice, I imagine her smiling. “I’m going to get ready. My session is at 8am sharp.”

  “Best of luck, and take your time.”

  “I’ll see if I can bring you home a tuft of wool.”

  I groan, laughing as I do. “But it’s totally OK if you can’t. I will understand, really.”

  “Bye, Bay. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I miss my sister more than I can say, but I’m glad she’s having the time of her life. She’ll be home soon enough with enough stories to keep us going for a long time.

  I turn back to Robin Ericson, snuggling against my pillow as I join RJ once again on Siegel Colony Six. But a nagging voice in my head makes me think about the guy, Hugh Leyton. I get on my phone and start looking through social media, going to the first Hugh Leyton I come to who’s listed as living in London. Anna’s right—he is handsome. But if she got a clingy vibe from him, then whatever he might be feeling obviously isn’t reciprocated.

  I save his profile and take a few screenshots. I have clear pictures of his face. Would Callum be able to dig anything up about him?

  6

  Saturday mornings are always busy. No rest for the wicked, sure, but neither for gaming enthusiasts.

  I’m up early, breakfast and coffee hot and waiting for Kelly to roll out of bed. It takes her forever to wake up, but she is a night owl. I, on the other hand, am an old woman who typically has lights out by 9:30pm. I sometimes blame teaching, but I’m at my most productive in the morning. By two o’clock, I need a nap.

  I open Kelly’s door a bit, allowing the fragrance of hot food and fresh coffee to delicately wake her up. In the meantime, I call Mom.

  “Morning, Bay,” she says.

  “Hey, Mom. Need me to retrieve anything for the game? Pick up food or something?”

  “I’m actually on my way out now. We’re eating light, since Cathy’s tasting is this afternoon.”

  “Oh, good. We can all go together.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  I hear feet shuffling down the hall. Sleeping Beauty has awakened.

  “All right, Mama. Kelly just woke up. We’ll see you in a little bit.”

  “OK, hon. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Kelly groans, sitting at the dining table. Her cup of coffee is already waiting for her.

  “Morning,” I say. I don’t ask her what she wants. Instead, I push the plate of pancakes and fruit toward her.

  “Usually, we eat leftovers,” she says, her voice light and airy from sleep. “What’s the occasion?”

  “I’ve been awake far longer than I should be for a Saturday.”

  She digs her fork in to cut her pancakes. “Still thinking about Ashley and Martin?”

  “And how weird Ward was.”

  “I wouldn’t take it personally.” She takes a bite, nodding. Then she goes for more. “I don’t know how I would behave if I found out my brother had been murdered.”

  “Yeah, I know. But he has to know that I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Anyone thinking rationally would know that, Bay.” She sips her coffee. “Wow, I have a great roommate. This is delicious.”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

  We finish eating and great ready to head to Mom’s. While games aren’t for another couple of hours, prepping the food and the space is easier with help.

  Mom’s glad to have us, and it isn’t long before the players start to assemble. First is Brian Johnson, medical examiner extraordinaire and childhood friend of my Dad’s. Brian’s the reason Dad picked up Dragon Master again, a game that he taught us on weekends and school vacations. Even though Dad’s in St. Pete, he still keeps tabs on our campaign and plays with us when he’s in town.

  Brian keeps us going every week by running the game. He immediately goes to the table to set up his game master screen, notes, and whatever else he has in store for us today.

  Callum isn’t far behind, looking a little worse for wear. “I stayed up late with Cathy getting stuff ready.” He yawns. “Sorry. I promise I’m conscious enough to play.”

  “Don’t worry.” Brian is grinning. “I won’t use it against you.”

  Yikes. Callum’s eyes go wide. “Is there any coffee, Mrs. Knight?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The game goes on, Brian leading us through a haunted forest as he plays ambient music and sound effects from his iPad. With a series of ability checks and the guidance of our game master, we reach the opening of a cave in a mountainside before Brian’s alarm sounds off.

  “All right, everyone.” He silences the alarm. “That’s where we’ll end it for the week.”

  “Such a cliffhanger,” Callum says, standing up. “I’m going to get right to Cathy’s. See you all there.”

  We say goodbye before Kelly and I help Brian gather up his play pieces.

  “I’ve thought of some sandwich names,” Mom says from the kitchen, putting the leftover snacks in containers. “The Bull Pen is a roast beef sandwich.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one,” I say.

  Kelly snaps her fingers. “And she could add a bit of liquor to her au jus and call it the Drunk Tank.”

  “Oh, wow, you guys are really into this.” Brian shakes his head, setting his miniatures in their protective case. “I was just going to call a chicken sandwich the Number One Suspect. It’s likely to be the most ordered sandwich, hence number one.”

  “You can do better than that, Brian,” I say, but he only shrugs in response. “Like calling it Fowl Play.”

  Mom applauds. “That’s my girl.”

  When we do arrive at Cathy’s, her driveway, lawn, and street are already filled with cars. “It’s a good thing we carpooled,” Brian says, steering his SUV into the nearest space in the cul de sac.

  The house is buzzing with activity as we step inside, and it smells great.

  “Hello, everyone!” Cathy comes to greet us, carrying a tray of iced drinks. “Water and lemonade.”

  “Thank you.” I take a lemonade. “Great turnout!”

  “Yeah, you all are really coming through for me. I can’t think you guys enough.”

  “First round is up!” Callum comes in from the kitchen, another tray in his hands.

  Sandwiches cut into small servings, around two or three bites, make their rounds to every guest. Martin is sitting next to his mom on the couch, both of them already armed with a pencil and notepad for their thoughts on Sandwich #1.

  I walk over to them, picking up a notepad and pencil from the foyer table. “Hey, guys. I’m so glad you made it.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it.” Ashley smiles, looking at Martin. Sadness is still heavy on their faces, but their bravery is there nonetheless. “Everyone’s been so kind, we wanted to make sure to help Cathy.”

  “Plus free food,” Martin says.

  I take a seat by Ashley as Callum comes over with the tray. “Sliced turkey,” he says, “with smoked gouda, arugula, and cracked black pepper. The bread is ciabatta toasted in herb butter.”

  “Artisan and delicious.” I take my offering. The notepads have enough space for our thoughts as well as ideas for naming the sandwiches.

  Ashley, after sampling her sandwich and jotting some notes, stands up. “Excuse me. Bailey, do you know where the restroom is?”

  I do, and I point her in the direction.

  Martin and I sit in a reasonably comfortable silence as we finish our sandwiches.

  “Do you have a name for this one?” I ask.

  “Mom mentioned something related to law enforcement,” he says, “being the Sandwich Police, and all.”

  “That’s a good place to start.”

  “I want to ask you something.” He shifts in his seat, looking down at his hands. “Dad was arguing with someone over the phone before you and Mom got there.”

  “Oh? Do you know who?”

  “He never said a name. But I think it’s about money.” There’s a pained look in Martin’s face, especially around his eyes. “And I heard someone say that my dad was stealing money from his bank clients.”

  “We don’t know that for sure, Martin.”

  “Do you think it’s true?”

  Oh, crap. How do I answer this question? “I know you love your dad, Martin.”

  “It’s not about that, Miss Knight. I just—I want to make sense of all of this.”

  “I know. Human beings are capable of anything—good or bad. Sometimes, when we’re pushed hard enough, we make some really crappy decisions.”

  “Do you think that’s why? Something pushed him to it?”

  “I think that the police are looking down every possible avenue to be sure.”

  His shoulders sink. “Yeah.”

  “What did your dad say on the phone?”

  “I’ll get you the money. It’s almost ready.” He looks at me, the knowing in his eyes. “I know Dad had a gambling problem. He must’ve owed someone.” He exhales, his lips puffing out as he does. “This is the kind of stuff you see on TV, not in real life.”

  “Your dad loved you very much, Martin. Always remember that, no matter what. He wasn’t a bad person.”

  “Martin?” Ashley looks between us, worried. “Is everything OK?”

  Keeping my voice down, I explain the conversation to her. She’ll probably have a better time explaining everything to help ease his worry.

  All the while, my mind is working at lightning speed. Kurt may have owed some pretty nasty people, but murder? Wouldn’t that be killing the golden goose? Someone tied to the bank…that’s far more likely…

  Time passes, as does more sandwiches. Ideas for names circulate around the room, and I hear some good ones, even unrelated to the sandwiches…

  “Put ‘Em In Cuffs. That means they’d prefer a bagel for the bread.”

  That one gets some laughs.

  “And Evidence Lockup means they want it to go!”

  Callum gives that one a round of applause.

  “The chicken sandwich should be Fowl Play,” Brian says, his eyes on me. We both nod once, our alliance sealed.

  “Oh, that’s good.” Cathy is grinning.

  “All right, everyone.” Callum signals for everyone to gather around the kitchen. He has a DSLR camera on a tripod. “Cathy wants a picture. She’s going to hang it inside of her food truck.”

  He gets the camera ready as we gather around. I pass him my phone. “One for me, too, since the guild is all here. We can have it in our notebook.”

  “Oh, nice.”

  Callum sets the DSLR’s timer and joins me at the right side, standing behind me. He’s a good six inches taller than almost everyone here, except for Brian and Cathy.

  The camera beeps for its countdown, and just as it’s about to click for the picture, Callum rests his hand on my shoulder. Did the shock show on my face as the camera flashed? He steps away to check the camera, and I know his hand’s warmth by its absence. My skin prickles with goosebumps.

  It’s all I can do not to stare him down as he rigs a setup for my cell phone, using the front-facing camera along with its countdown feature. “All right, everyone! We have ten seconds. Try to fit in!”

  I stay put, curious if Callum is going to come back to the same spot behind me…

  He doesn’t. But he does make everyone laugh when he lays down in front of the group, propping his head up on one hand.

  It probably didn’t mean anything. We’ve been friends for years…nearly sixteen of them. We’re just used to each other.

  The picture takes, and Callum is first to the phone. “Looks great!” He shows it around for those interested.

  I stand next to him as he turns the phone back, his thumb accidentally swiping the screen. A picture of Hugh Leyton is there.

  “Well, well, well.” He raises an eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

  This certainly breaks the ice for that conversation. I explain him and why I have two pictures along with a screenshot of his online profile. “Anna mentioned that he was clingy.”

  “Clingy?”

  “He’s back in London, though. She’s OK. I just—I’m not there, you know? I’m not there to see all of this for myself.”

  “I absolutely understand.” I watch him open up my messaging app, and he sends himself the three pictures of Hugh. “I’ll do some digging. I know some people.”

  Phew. “Oh, and before I forget, Anna did mention wanting to see your family while she’s in Dublin. Have a meal with them, nothing too big.”

  “They’d like that. I talk about you all the time.” On his own phone, he starts texting someone named Aunt Abby.

  “Oh yeah?” I smirk. “All the time?”

  “We don’t get to be friends for almost two decades and not get mentioned at the family barbecue.” He looks at me through his lashes before finishing the text. “I’ll ask them to keep an eye on her while she’s in town. Let her know that I’m giving my aunt her number.”

  “Will do.” And I text Anna before I forget. She texts back, “Great, thanks!”

  But just now, he looks at me, and I would swear that his gaze lingers. A hint of a smile, a glimmer of light in his hazel eyes…

  “Hey, Cal? Can you help get this in their car?” Cathy, carrying a plastic bin of food, gestures toward a couple. “They’re taking the leftovers to the homeless shelter.”

 

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