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When Sandra got home from dropping the kids off at school, she found Bob sitting on her porch swing. “This is getting to be a habit.”
“Can we go inside? You know, the neighbors.”
Sandra realized how much she’d missed her new angel friend. “Of course. Come on in.” She unlocked the door and then held it open so that he could go in first, spending only a second wondering how this might appear to onlookers. Oh well. There probably weren’t very many, if any, onlookers anyway.
She freed Sammy from his car seat, and he squawked in appreciation, not taking his eyes off Bob. “I still can’t believe he can see you.”
Bob didn’t answer. He was too busy making googly eyes at the baby.
“How old are people when they lose that ability?”
All expression fell from Bob’s face. “Some things I am not permitted to discuss.”
She snorted. “Proprietary information?”
“Huh?” The angel looked flummoxed.
“Never mind. Would you like to sit?” Did angels sit down? They did while they were waiting on porch swings. Apparently, they also sat on couches. At least Bob did. He plopped down on the sofa as if he’d been waiting to do just that for a great stretch of eternity. Should she offer him a drink? Did angels drink? What did angels drink? Probably not Crystal Light. Certainly not Moxie. Lavender-infused coconut water with gold flecks floating on top? She opened her mouth to hazard a guess, but he didn’t give her a chance to offer him anything.
“So, I heard what the ref said to you yesterday when you were talking to Peter’s coach.”
“You did?” She’d entirely forgotten about that particular revelation. She’d been too busy worrying about Peter. She and Sammy sat down on the ottoman.
“I did. What do you think it means?”
How should she know? He was the one with supernatural powers. “I don’t know. But it did occur to me that that’s what Mr. Fenton was talking about. Maybe he didn’t mean the team white. Maybe he meant the man White. But it still doesn’t make perfect sense, because he did say, ‘You have to stop them. You have to stop white.’ I don’t know.” She really didn’t.
“I think he meant White, the man.” Bob sounded gravely serious.
“Why? What do you know that I don’t know?”
“I don’t know anything, but the man was murdered. I don’t think his last words would have been about a middle school soccer team, no matter how rough they were playing. I think it makes sense that his last words would be about naming his killer.”
“He didn’t say that White was his killer. He said I had to stop them. So who is them? And where were you? You were there eavesdropping? Is that really how it works?”
He looked offended. “It’s not eavesdropping.”
“Sorry,” she said and meant it. She hadn’t meant it as an affront. She was truly curious.
“We need a plan.” If his feelings had been hurt, he’d recovered quickly.
She laughed. “A plan? What kind of plan?” She couldn’t imagine a plan that she could be a part of.
He pointed at her. “You need to go undercover.”
“What?” This angel is insane. Undercover as what, a middle school soccer player?
He nodded dramatically. “I mean it. I happen to know that this region is absolutely desperate for soccer officials.”
She paused, speechless. “You’re kidding.”
He shook his head, slowly, dramatically. “I am not.”
“I hardly know the rules.”
“That is true of several middle school soccer officials.”
She wasn’t considering it. She was just having trouble coming up with excuses. “I am far too busy. I would miss Peter’s games.”
“They could schedule your games around his. He doesn’t play every day. I’m telling you—you only have to do one game a week and you’ll be on the inside. You’ll get the scoop.”
“Can’t you get the scoop? Can’t you eavesdrop on the refs when they’re talking to each other?”
“I told you that I can’t always do that. I can’t just go everywhere I please, and I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s complicated. Plus, it’s not like I have a lot of spare time on my hands.”
“And I do?” she cried. “Do you know anything about my life? I don’t have a single second of downtime!” Right on cue, Sammy began to bellow. She kissed him on his chubby cheek and then set him on the floor. She pushed a few toys in front of him and then returned to the angel. “Is this request coming from you or from God?”
He looked sad. “Just from me. But I could really use your help. I’ll continue to investigate, but if you could join me, we’d be faster.”
She smirked. “Investigate? Are you some sort of angel sleuth?”
“No. Never been in this sort of predicament before. I just want to make up for my blunder, and then I’ll stop with the sleuthing. Believe me, I don’t enjoy it.”
A knock sounded on her front door. She looked at Bob in a panic, as if she expected him to hide.
“I’ll leave if you want me to, but whoever it is won’t be able to see me.”
“Unless it’s an infant knocking on the door.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Sammy giggle at that.
“Right. Unless it’s an infant. And I can even hide myself from them when I need to.”
She headed for the door, wondering under what circumstances an angel would ever need to hide himself from an infant. She peeked through the peephole and gasped. She looked at Bob. “It’s the widow!” she whispered, too loudly.
“Okay!” he whispered back. “Open the door!” He didn’t even pretend to be surprised. He’d known who it was before she’d told him, she was sure of it. That was annoying.
She swung the door open and put on her best Sunday morning smile. “Hi, Isabelle! What a lovely surprise!”