Page 12 of Scored

Vee scooted onto a stool at the breakfast bar where a warm mug of coffee was waiting. “I remembered her saying she watches your and Zane’s games with a fifteen-minute delay. I bet she was happy to hear from you. You know, I’d complain about you cooking while injured, but after this morning⁠—”

“You’re complaining?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m confident you can do whatever you put your mind to.”

“I need you to remember that if Lacy Reynolds tries to put me on the IR.” Lifting my coffee, I took a sip. “Remember that pillbox that was in your dad’s glove compartment?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You said it looked like one you have. Were you able to find it?”

She scrunched her nose. “I kind of forgot about it. I looked around my office and in my bag. I thought maybe it fell out when I ran off the road.” Vee shrugged. “It wasn’t in my car when I got it back. I don’t know where it is.”

The buzzer rang and I turned to remove the high-protein muffins from the oven. I set the muffin tin on the counter.

“Are those blueberries?” she asked.

“I’ve never made these before. They have cottage cheese, blueberries, and honey. I added a little oatmeal.”

“They smell amazing. I’m game.”

It was a quarter past noon by the time we finished our coffee and muffins. Vee helped with the rinsing of dishes and the muffin tin as I loaded the dishwasher.

“Who would have access to your bag—that’s where you think the pillbox was, right?”

“No one.”

“Where do you put your bag when you’re at Maker’s Mark?”

“In my desk drawer.”

“Is the drawer locked?” I asked.

Vee stared up into my orbs. “What’s your obsession with the pillbox?”

“Tylenol gives me weird dreams. I remembered the pillbox.” I followed Vee to the en suite bathroom. “I wonder if it is important. Like a clue.”

“You have access. My bag is here. I suppose Jen has access. Anyone who enters my office has the possibility of access, but I can’t imagine anyone rummaging through my drawers.” She applied toothpaste to her toothbrush and looked at me through the reflection of the mirror. “Besides, it’s too cold for allergies. I’ll get another one next spring. And no one has officially questioned me except the detective right after Dad’s accident.”

After we finished brushing our teeth, Vee said, “I think I should drive. You can’t drive with one hand.”

My lips quirked. “I can do a lot of things with only one hand.”

Vee smiled. “We can drive separately.”

“No. There’s over an inch of snow out there.”

“It’s afternoon. The roads will be clear.”

“Ms. Hubbard, gather your things. My truck is big and will handle better on the roads whatever their condition. I’m driving.”

“You know,” she said with a grin, “you can be stubborn.”

CHAPTER 5

Fin

Vee was right about the roads. The surfaces were clear and dry. That didn’t mean I regretted driving the two of us to Maker’s Mark. Clark’s message had me on edge. Turning to my right, I took in Vee’s profile.