Finale

you don’t know how to be nice.”
    “Consider this a sincere attempt,” she said, and slapped the pink slip into my palm. “Take it, and I’ll move my car.”
    I pocketed the slip and said, “While we’re still on speaking terms, I have a question. Your dad was friends with a man named Blakely, and I need to find him. Does his name ring a
bell?”
    Her face was a mask. Hard to tell if she’d had a reaction. “Depends. Are you going to tell me why you need to find him?”
    “I have some questions for him.”
    “What kind of questions?”
    “I’d rather not share.”
    “Then neither would I.”
    I swallowed down a few unsavory comments and tried again. “I’d like to tell you, Marcie, really I would, but there are some things you’re better off not knowing.”
    “That’s what my dad always told me. I think he was lying then, and I think you’re lying now. If you want my help finding Blakely, I want full disclosure.”
    “How do I know you even have anything on Blakely?” I protested. Marcie was good at playing games, and I wouldn’t put her past bluffing right now.
    “My dad took me to Blakely’s house once.”
    I jumped on the information. “Do you have an address? Could you find your way back?”
    “Blakely doesn’t live there anymore. He was getting divorced at the time, and my dad temporarily put him up in an apartment. But I did see some pictures on the mantel. Blakely has a
little brother. You know him, because he goes to school with us. Alex Blakely.”
    “The football player?”
    “The star running back.”
    I was stunned. Did this mean Alex was Nephilim too? “Are Blakely and his brother close?”
    “Blakely bragged about Alex the whole time I was there. Which was, like, stupid because our football team sucks. Blakely said he’s never missed a game.”
    Blakely had a brother. And his brother was Coldwater High’s star running back. “When is the next football game?” I asked Marcie, trying to contain my excitement.
    “Friday,
duh
. Games are always on Friday.”
    “Home or away?”
    “Home.”
    A home game! Blakely was presumably working around the clock developing prototypes—all the more reason he’d want to leave his laboratory for a few hours and do something he actually
enjoyed. Chances were he’d surface for a few hours this Friday night to watch his little brother play football. Since Blakely was divorced, Alex just might be the only family he had left.
Making it to Alex’s game would be important to him.
    “You think Blakely is going to come to the game,” Marcie said.
    “It would be really helpful if he did.”
    “This is the part where you tell me what you’re going to ask him.”
    I met Marcie’s eyes and lied to her straight-faced. “I want to know if he has any idea who killed our dad.”
    Marcie almost flinched, but caught herself at the last moment. Her eyes stared ahead without blinking, giving away nothing to her thoughts. “I want to be there when you ask him.”
    “Sure,” I lied again. “No problem.”
    I watched Marcie back down the driveway. As soon as she cleared the curb, I shoved the key into the Volkswagen’s ignition. Six attempts later, it still hadn’t whined to life. I
brushed aside my impatience; nothing could sour my mood, not even the Volkswagen. I’d just found the lead I’d so desperately needed.
    After school I drove to Patch’s. I did the safety-conscious thing and circled the block a few times before parking in the freshly paved lot with extra-wide parking
spaces. I didn’t like feeling like I constantly had to watch my back, but I liked surprise visits from unfriendly Nephilim and devious archangels even less. And as far as the outside world
knew, Patch and I were Splitsville. Using my key, I let myself inside.
    “Hello?” I called out. The place felt empty. The couch cushions weren’t indented from a recent sitting, and the TV remote hadn’t moved since yesterday. Not that I could
picture Patch sitting around watching ESPN all afternoon. If I had to guess, he’d probably spent the day trying to find Pepper’s real blackmailer or tracking down Cowboy Hat and Co.
    I walked deeper into the townhome. Half bath on the right, spare bedroom on the left, master bedroom at the back. Patch’s lair.
    His bed had a navy duvet with matching navy sheets and decorative pillows that also didn’t appear touched. I opened the shutters and drank in the breathtaking panoramic views of Casco Bay
and Peaks Island