Page 18 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

My droopy eyes flew wide open. “Murder basement?” I asked Marty.

“Murder basement, it is,” she chirped, heading toward the stairs.

Nina held out her hand to me, yanking me upward. “Bigfoot took it outta ya, huh?”

With a laugh, I nodded. “I’m still in utter disbelief. C’mon, let’s go see what Tottington’s secret friend found.”

Marty was already at her desk, the TV on so we could all see the contents of Neerie’s phone.

As I poured some tea, Tottington used his newly purchased clicker to show us Neerie’s text messages and apps.

Marty busied herself fussing with her murder board, adding the pictures of Neerie and Thad that Tottington had printed. “We still have to find this Will Tempe, Tamlin’s biological father. If ever there was a suspect, it’s him. I mean, I’m not sure how he planned to make her life a living hell, but taking her out is certainly a possibility. I wonder if Tamlin even knows he exists? Add that to the list of questions for Naida.”

Nina popped her lips as she looked at the big-screen TV, planting her hands on her slender hips. “There’s a damn app for tracking Hank? I’d say these people are bonkers, but now that I know he frickin’ exists, I feel like I should apologize. I won’t, because they have plenty of other crazy shit running around in their little heads that’s just insane, but wow. We need to warn him to watch his ass, because this is eerily accurate.”

When Tottington switched to Neerie’s texts, we found the one she’d sent to Earl, but it didn’t illuminate anything of value other than make us wonder what basement she was talking about.

Shrugging my shoulders at the daunting task of going through the hundreds of texts Neerie had on her phone, I fought a yawn. “I guess we start at the beginning.”

We pored over each person she’d texted during the last two months. There were the usual demands she made of the PTA ladies and myself, text after text about the bake sale and other events we were planning for the future.

It was when we got to her texts with Thad that our mouths fell open.

One in particular from about a week ago, read: You’re paranoid as usual, Neerie. If you keep this up, I’m going to have to see about bringing Tamlin to stay with me for a while. This obsession isn’t healthy.

“What obsession isn’t healthy? Chasing Bigfoot? Buying into the idea that Paul McCartney’s dead?” I wondered out loud.

Tottington scrolled a bit further. “I think he meant this, Miss.”

It’s not an obsession, you idiot! It’s happening. I’m telling you, something’s going on at the school. I saw what I saw, Thad, and you’ll take Tamlin over my dead body!

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