Finding Sky (A Nicki Valentine Mystery Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

and I made some crazy-ass decisions. I don’t know what gave us the courage—the beer, desperation, or a history of making prank calls as kids. First, we called every Gomez near Woodridge High and asked for Marcus. Kenna had confirmed Marcus was a senior, and Marcus Gomez was the only senior “Marcus” in the yearbook.
    We would have called all the Johnsons, asking for April, but there had to be hundreds. We got the expected variety of responses: Who? Wrong number. Click. And finally, He’s not home, in a drowsy woman’s voice. That was perfect, because we didn’t want to talk to him. Not yet. I wrote down his address along with Beth’s, which we found using her parents’ first names from the adoption application and her last name from the yearbook. It felt like a good but slow start.
    So we took it a step further. Kenna agreed to stay at my house while the kids slept. I agreed to do my first stakeout. I’d hardly sipped my beer, but I gave it time to wear off anyway, hoping that would change my mind. Meanwhile I gathered a camera, fill-in-the-blank stakeout forms from PI class, a juice box, and organic animal crackers. Not high-tech surveillance supplies, but better than nothing. Someday I’d have cool stuff like night vision goggles and hidden microphones, which I was pretty sure they sold at Toys “R” Us these days.
    That brought something to mind. Hadn’t binoculars come in a Scholastic books package for Jack? Had they been part of a Scooby-Doo club? I crept into his room and dug through his toy chest as quietly as possible. Each time I lifted a toy, it sounded like a muffled avalanche.
    “What are you doing?” Kenna whispered from the doorway.
    I spotted Jack’s collection of detective supplies. A flashlight. A magnifying glass. A notepad. I held the binoculars triumphantly over my head.
    “What in the world?” Kenna said. For some reason they were designed to look like a square jigsaw puzzle. I had to extend the pieces to make them work.
    “Binoculars,” I told her, doing my best not to wake Jack. “Undercover. They might come in handy.” I put them to my eyes. I went from seeing Kenna’s whole body to seeing her waist, where khaki shorts, a white T-shirt and a cute polka dot belt met. The toy worked. I grabbed the flashlight and notepad for good measure.
    “I think I’m prepared. But I have to pee.” I’d heard more stories about PI pee than necessary. They all shared a common moral: Peeing in a car is annoying for men and nearly impossible for women. I’d never admit it freely, but when my kids were potty training, I’d rigged a decent travel system using a kiddie toilet and plastic bags—good enough for an adult to use in an emergency. When you’re a single mom with curious toddlers, bathroom stalls are not your friends. I still had that potty somewhere, bleached and ready for the next road trip.
    “Anything else you need?” Kenna asked when I was ready to go.
    I looked at my bulging backpack. Leave it to me to over prepare. Heaven forbid I’m stranded without wipes or an extra outfit at the appropriate moment. I had so much stuff that I’d have trouble finding what I needed. “A gun?” I joked.
    “You’ll be fine,” she said. “You’re just taking a look. And the neighborhoods aren’t that bad.”
    That bad? I hadn’t been worried about the neighborhoods. Aren’t that bad meant kind of bad. Too late now. I threw on the pack, wiggled my feet into Nikes, and reviewed the directions I’d printed out. They made sense, but I’d probably screw them up somehow.
    “If Marcus goes anywhere, remember the turns so you can find your way out,” Kenna cautioned, as if reading my mind.
    “Great idea.” I tried to remember where I’d stashed my pen.
    “I feel so much better knowing you’re doing this,” she added. Well, that made one of us.
    I walked out the door saying I’d check in frequently, a promise I wouldn’t keep.

      
    My first stop was Beth’s townhouse. I