Page 64 of Ruff and Tumble

If she were to die right here and now, her body found on the living room floor after being eaten by puppies, the world would assume she was the stalkeriest stalker in the history of stalkerdom—and with good reason. The wall in front of her was a collage of Cole Bennett images and articles she’d printed out, along with various stat sheets and injury reports. It covered the past six years of Lumberjack football highlights, including a breakdown of the plays in every single Kickoff Cup playoff game to date.

It also included a complete medical history of labral shoulder tears, surgeries, and recovery rates.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” Hailey said as she absorbed the whole. She’d always been a visual learner. Seeing the timeline laid out like this, the cause and effect attached with red yarn that was, okay, possibly a little over the top, had a way of clarifying her thoughts into one cohesive whole.

Cole Bennett had been on a steady decline ever since his shoulder injury. It was such a mild rate of deterioration, disguised by the regular ups and downs of a six-month season, that it had gone unnoticed by the public.

And by her.

“If he continues like this, he has one,maybetwo more years in him,” she said to the sleeping puppy. “But they won’t be his best ones. No wonder he’s been taking all those unnecessary hits. His time to throw is almost double what it used to be.”

She lowered herself to her couch and fell back against the cushions, seeing but no longer seeing the facts laid out in front of her. Everything was starting to make a dizzying amount of sense.

The way Cole had been so stiff after wrenching open those elevator doors, the things Amara had said at the hospital…what he’s doing with me in the first place. She wasn’t just some good-luck token to break the curse; she was a piece in a much bigger, much more final puzzle.

This was probably Cole’s last chance at a Kickoff Cup.

Her phone rang with such portentous timing that Hailey was almost startled into dropping Rufus. Fumbling to reach into her back pocket without disturbing the puppy, she was too breathless and distracted to take note of who was calling her.

And by the time she said “hello,” hanging up was no longer an option.

“Oh good! You’re up. I was afraid it might be too late to come over. It’s not too late to come over?” The female voice on the other end of the line laughed and added, “I should probably add that I’m literally standing on your doorstep. I brought bubble bath. And wine.”

Hailey bit back a groan. Although part of her was elated that Penny had followed up on her promise to visit for a long soak in her bathtub, a much larger part realized that there was no way she could hide all this evidence in time. Even if she tore it down and shoved it into the fireplace, evidence littered her living room.

“You’re not saying anything. Is Cole there? Sigh once for yes and twice for no. I can leave the wine and go.”

“I’m alone,” Hailey said, and since there was no use trying to pretend she was the calm, cool, and collected woman she’d always aspired to be, she went to answer the door.

As promised, Penny held a bottle of wine in one hand and a bottle of bath soap in the other. She was also wearing a long coat thrown over a pair of sweatpants, her hair up in a sloppy bun. It was the first time Hailey had ever seen her look anything but perfectly dressed and coiffed.

“I know.” Penny glanced down at herself with a grimace. “But I have terrible cramps and couldn’t face the prospect of wallowing in bed with a heating pad by myself. It’s really okay? You can say no.”

This burst of sentiment—one Hailey had often felt herself—caused her to pull the door the rest of the way open. So many times, she’d wished for something exactly like this. A kind smile to allay the symptoms of PMS. Someone to share a bad night in comfy clothes with.

A friend.

“It’s really okay,” Hailey said. “To be honest, I could use the company. It’s been a day.”

She was rewarded with Penny’s bright smile. “You’re telling me. I’m always exhausted after eight hours of chasing down all those puppies. I don’t know how you do it, day in and day…” Penny’s voice trailed off as she reached the living room, the bottles she carried falling heavily to her sides. She spent a long moment absorbing the charts and images, the red string that crisscrossed everywhere.

It was on the tip of Hailey’s tongue to defend herself, but Penny spoke up before she could formulate a reasonable excuse.

“Oh my,” she murmured. “If I go in the bathroom, am I going to find a dead body?”

Hailey couldn’t help a giggle from escaping. Given the mayhem all around them, it wasn’t an unreasonable question.

Encouraged, Penny shot a smile at Hailey over her shoulder. “I’ll help you bury him, of course, but it’s not going to be easy. He must weigh at least two hundred pounds.”

“Two twenty-one, actually,” Hailey said and immediately clamped her lips shut. That kind of detailed information wasn’t going to help her looklesslike a murderer.

Penny, however, only laughed. “You are, without a doubt, my favorite person in the world. Here. Trade me the puppy for the wine. I think you should crack this bottle immediately.”

Hailey did as she asked, but not without first saying, “I thought you came to use my bathtub.”

“I did. But this looks much more important.”

A strange torrent of emotions moved through her as she took the bottle of wine to the kitchen and poured them each a full glass, careful not to wake Bess and her sleeping litter as she did. She should have been ashamed of what was happening in the other room—of having a living, breathing person witness the inner chaos of her mind—but she wasn’t. She was a little embarrassed, yes, and would probably never live it down, but the feeling foremost in her heart was relief. She wanted to talk to someone else about this. Sheneededit.