Chapter Fifteen

T he volleyball court was filled with teenagers and parents. Susanna was easy to pick out in the crowd with her blonde hair done up in a high ponytail that swung back and forth whenever she jumped forward to get the ball. Olivia kept one eye on her and one eye on her watch at all times. Brock pulled out his phone and sent a text message a little after the game started. “Backup is here. We’ve got the back of the school covered.”

“Good.” Olivia cheered when Susanna hit the ball over the net, scoring a point for her team. “That-a girl!” When the cheers died down, she sat back down on the bleacher. On the other side of the court in a gathering of adults, the teacher with wavy brown hair stood. “So she is a teacher here.” Olivia pointed her out to Brock with a nod of her head. “I wonder who she is. And I wonder if the guy she was with was a teacher, too.”

“I don’t know.” Brock shook his head. “But we can find out.”

A shrill whistle split the air. Olivia had forgotten how loud these high school games could be, especially in an enclosed place such as the gym. Susanna cast a look up in the bleachers and caught sight of Olivia and Brock. They gave a small wave and her face lit up as if it could get any brighter.

With that, she plunged into the game. Shoes squeaking on the shimmering floor, she lunged for the ball, curled fingers palming together, and hit the ball so hard that the sound echoed through the room. The ball sailed over the net, only to be returned by the other team. They kept a good volley going for quite some time before the opposing team lost another point.

“She’s doing great,” Olivia remarked.

“It’s almost like she’s doing her best for us. Or because of us.” Brock’s eyes were on the game as he slipped an arm around Olivia. “Two strangers she doesn’t even know.”

Sadness clouded the moment, but Olivia didn’t let it show on her face. “Isn’t that sad? That she has found comfort in two complete strangers rather than her own family?”

Brock nodded. “My heart goes out to her.”

“Mine, too.”

By the time the game drew to a close, Olivia’s back ached from sitting on the bleachers. She had a reason to stand at the end when Susanna’s final hit over the net won the last game of the night for her team. Cheers erupted into thundering noise and her friends flooded onto the floor. The winning team embraced their friends. Olivia took the moment to cast a look at her watch. “It’s fifteen-till. If we go down there, we’ll miss the showdown. Too many crowds.”

“We’ll just say we had to get going and congratulate her on the beach tomorrow. She’s always there.” Brock stood to give her a wave but Susanna was too busy basking in the glory that her friends were bestowing upon her to notice .

Outside, in the quiet of the parking lot, Olivia waited for Brock to unlock the door. The lights lit up and she cracked it open. “She rocked it out there.”

“She did.” Brock agreed. They shut themselves in the car and Brock reached for the ignition. “That girl is going to go places.”

The excitement of the game faded as Brock drove his car around the back of the school. “There’s our backup.” He nodded to another car, parked inconspicuously in the bus parking.

He killed the engine, letting the car go dark, and turned off his headlights. He leaned back in his seat and watched the exit from the school. Anticipation grew between them, the excitement of a stake-out weighing the air down.

“There was a lot of stuff happening here tonight,” Olivia mused. “A teacher meeting with a man in her office. I’d give anything to know what they were talking about.”

“It could be nothing,” Brock replied. “Maybe some kind of hookup. It shouldn’t, but it happens.”

“It could be anything.” Olivia agreed. She wasn’t even sure if it was something worth holding onto or just something to let go. Her attention faded from the Dutch-speaking couple at 7:59, when a teenager came into view, hoodie up and over his head and walking cautiously, like he shouldn’t be here. As the clock switched over to 8:00 pm, at the exact moment, Josh came around the corner of the building. At least, Olivia assumed it was Josh. The hoodie over his head concealed his face from view, but there weren’t any other logical options considering that he had arranged this meeting.

“There they are,” Olivia whispered.

Brock leaned into the steering wheel, eyes intent on what was about to go down. Relying on the tinted windows to conceal him from view, he pressed his lips together as he watched. Josh looked around one more time, but his gaze passed right over them. Olivia wished she could have bugged the area or set out some sort of recording device, but what they saw would have to be enough. Josh turned to fully face the kid, leaning into him and murmuring something before withdrawing an item from his pocket. He held a small Ziploc in his hands and even from here, they could make out a white, powdery substance.

“That’s it!” Olivia bounced like a spring from the car at the same time Brock flew from the front seat. The action startled Josh and he dropped the packet as he jerked around to face the two people running towards him.

“FBI, freeze!” Olivia yelled out. “Hands in the air!”

Josh abandoned his friend, sprinting with athletic speed toward the front of the school. Brock melted onto his trail, taking off after him. “I’ve got Josh!”

The other kid was too startled to move. Olivia could see two scared eyes peeking out from underneath the hood. He had gotten caught; he knew he was in trouble and it showed.

Josh was fast, but Brock was faster, covering the ground between them in a few strides and reached out, grabbing onto Josh’s shoulders. The two men went down, a sprawl of arms and legs and a few grunts.

Olivia reached the other kid, whose trembling hands were in the air. “I didn’t do anything! I’m innocent!”

The shouts of their backup came swiftly, but Olivia wasn’t letting this go. She reached down, grasping the pouch that Josh had dropped as he sprinted away. Brock hauled him to his feet, leading him back toward where Olivia stood with the other kid. Josh’s eyes were as round as saucers as he looked toward Brock with recognition. “Man, I didn’t know you were FBI!”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Brock mumbled. He glanced down and bent, scooping the Ziploc up with his hands. He held it up in Josh’s plain view. “What is this?”

If possible, Josh’s eyes got even wider as he struggled to get free from Brock. His lips pressed into a thin line on his face and he didn’t answer a word.

“Come on, man, I know this isn’t baking powder!” Brock’s voice was gruff and maybe held a slight hint of annoyance as he waited for Josh to answer .

Josh answered all right. Stuttering, he looked back up at Brock, desperate for him to believe his story. “That’s...that’s not mine.”

Brock snorted a laugh, his lip coming up in a sneer. “Yeah, we haven’t heard that one before. Is this how you get kids to join your little cult? Lure them in with drugs?”

Olivia waited for the other kid, who was cooperating nicely, probably too afraid to do anything. Brock was good at going from one topic to another, backing suspects into a corner and sometimes she enjoyed watching him work. Josh’s face melted into confusion and his mouth hung open for a good few seconds. “What cult? I don’t know anything about any cult, man.”

Irritation hung on Brock’s expression. “‘May the stars align for you?’ Astrology pamphlets, come on, man.”

“O-Of course I’m into astrology, but I’m not into any cult!” Josh protested. His voice took on a higher pitch, no longer the calm, collected, Zen Josh they had been watching from a distance. That was either a sign that all of that calm was fake, or maybe he really didn’t know about a cult.

Olivia grabbed the packet of drugs from Brock and held it up for Josh to see. “Who’s your supplier?”

“I don’t have one!” Anger pulsed through his voice. “I found it!”

“Yeah, right. I find bags of this stuff lying around all the time. Are you going to help yourself out and tell us?” Olivia held it a bit higher. “Who is your supplier?”

Josh pressed his lips together. He was a smart kid, probably remembering the first Miranda right to remain silent. He chose that moment to stop speaking.