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Chapter 37

“So… maybe he’s just hoping you’ll call him instead of snooping around,” Lucy said just before she shoved another cheese-covered french fry into her mouth. Her full mouth should have deterred her from saying more, but it didn’t. “Maybe he’s the good cop.”

“He’s not a cop.” Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s a drug dealer.”

I held back a giggle. “She’s not being serious, Em. It’s just a saying. Good cop/bad cop.” Sometimes Emma couldn’t tell when people were being serious. She also wasn’t good at plays on words, puns, or idioms.

“Oh,” she replied, chewing on her ham and cheese sandwich. “Well, if Elliott is the good cop, who’s the bad one?”

“Aaron,” Lucy replied, sticking her finger in her mouth to remove the last bits of cheese before reaching for a napkin. “He tried to blame everything on

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