The Black Coats(51)

“Oh yeah?” She smiled.

“So because a guy at my dad’s old work got food poisoning”—he raised his hands with a woot-woot and Thea burst out laughing—“my dad has two Andrew Bird tickets for tonight and get this: they’re going to have an ice-cream-waffle food truck there. Thea. Ice cream waffles. Are you hearing me?”

Thea’s mouth opened and shut. “I can’t. I have . . .”

Drew raised his eyebrow. “I’m sure you can miss one day of house restoration for this amazing date.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Hot fudge on a waffle, Thea. You are coming with me.”

Thea took a long look at his face, realizing that this might be a make-or-break moment for their relationship. He had been patient with her chaotic schedule and broken dates so far, but she could see that it was wearing on him. “Okay, yes. I’ll see what I can do. I have to rearrange some things. Can I at least meet you at the concert to give me more time?”

“Yes! Absolutely.” Drew hugged her with a delirious grin and spun her around. “It’s a date. Music and waffles and you. A man could not ask for more, truly.”

Thea laughed in spite of her growing panic. “If I’m going, I’m getting extra sprinkles. You should know I have a thing for rainbow sprinkles.”

“Yeah, you will!” Drew high-fived her and then kissed her hard on the lips. Thea’s heart tilted and spun, realizing what had been sneaking up on her; Drew made her so happy. His excitement about life was contagious, and he looked at her differently from how anyone ever had. It was as though he reflected her own light back to her. It was extraordinary.

“I need to let my friends know. Can you send me the concert info?” she asked.

Drew gently took his fingers and trailed them up her neck, lifting her chin. “Yes. You have made me very happy today.” He kissed her softly, the tip of his tongue trailing gently along her bottom lip before whispering across her mouth, “Maybe it’s the waffles, though. I can’t tell.”

“Take it down a notch, you two. You’re not getting married.” Mr. Parrot passed by them in the hallway, a reprimanding look on his face in response to their PDA. They pulled back from each other.

“That guy.” Drew shook his head. “I’m going to put a dead fish in his radiator before I graduate.”

“You will do no such thing.” Thea waited until the teacher turned the corner and kissed Drew on the cheek. “Okay, I got to run. But I’ll see you tonight.”

Drew raised his eyebrows. “Thea, wear something . . .” She raised a quizzical eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence. “That can get hot fudge on it.”

Her smile dazzled every person she passed on her way to the door. Once she got into her car she whipped out her phone, texting the team that Mirabelle’s inheritance was going to need to start early—in fact, it needed to start pretty much now. They would all be skipping the remainder of school today. Everyone seemed okay with that.

Since Mademoiselle Corday was out of the way, they decided to meet at a park near Marc Mitzi’s house in one of Austin’s older neighborhoods. The houses were tiny and crammed together, which would be an issue for their exposure if this was the sort of neighborhood where people cared about that sort of thing. Luckily, it was not. Mirabelle sat bursting with nervous energy in the front seat, Marc’s file spilling out over her lap. There was a small window when Marc would be home—from two thirty to five in the afternoon.

Casey drummed on the dashboard. “Are we sure we want this to be a Code Evening?”

Thea looked squarely at Mirabelle. “I don’t know. And I still don’t think you should come inside with us.”

“Like hell I’m not.” Mirabelle’s eyes flashed angrily. “Thea, are you going to stay in the car when we go find Natalie’s killer?”

Thea let out a long breath, her chest tightening at the prospect. “No.”

Mirabelle crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought. Also, if anyone asks me again, I swear to God, I will punch them in the face.”

No one asked again. At 1:45 p.m., Casey pulled the car into the small alleyway behind Marc’s house. They silently climbed out of the car and made their way up to his back gate. With a hoist from Bea, Thea reached over and unlocked the gate, and they filtered into his backyard. It was surprisingly nice for the neighborhood it was in, with a trim lawn and flowering bushes lining the fence. Thea motioned them forward, and the girls moved quickly to the back of the house. Thea knelt at the back door and pulled a crowbar out of her backpack. “Move aside, ladies,” she whispered.

“No need.” Bea grinned. She pushed the door inward with a creak. “It’s open.”

Casey shook her head. “People are ridiculously trusting.”

With Mirabelle in the lead, they made their way inside. Thea was the last one in, shutting and locking the door behind them. The back door opened up into a galley kitchen, cluttered but clean. Within seconds, Mirabelle was walking near the sink, her fingertips trailing over plates and forks, her eyes red.

“He eats here.” She turned to the team. “He gets to eat, every day. He gets to laugh and have dinner and watch TV, and my parents don’t. Just because he felt like having a drink that night.” No one said anything.

They all jumped when a car door slammed outside. “Shit! He’s home early!” Thea looked around the kitchen. “Everyone in the back bedroom! Now!”