Page 46 of Jack

Ho-kay. Maybe he should stop her before Ty took off running.

He got out. “Harper—slow down.”

But she was already at the front door, knocking.

He ran up behind her, but the door opened to an older woman, early sixties, maybe, in a pair of leggings and an oversized pink sweater.

“Mrs. Bowman. I’m looking for Ty,” Harper said.

The woman squinted at her. “You seem familiar.”

“Harper Malone. I went to school with Ty.”

“Oh, yes. Ty and you were friends. I remember.”

Jack lifted an eyebrow.

Harper sighed.

“I’m sorry—he’s not here.”

“Can I get his address?”

“Oh, he lives here, but he went to Minneapolis for the Blue Ox game tonight with a friend.”

Oh.

“When did he leave?”

Mrs. Bowman glanced past Harper, her gaze landing on Jack. Her mouth opened. “Jack Kingston?”

Um. . . “Ma’am?”

“Oh, you look just like your book jacket cover.”

Shoot.

“Wait here—will you sign it?”

“Oh, uh . . .”

Harper turned to him. “Yes, Jack, sign Mrs. Bowman’s book.”

“Come in,” Mrs. Bowman said, and Harper walked right in.

Great.His mouth pinched. Mrs. Bowman had left them standing in the entry.

“Apparently I need to read the book,” Harper said.

“It is better than the movie. Has the facts instead of fiction.”

“Like what fiction?”

“Like she wasn’t my girlfriend?—”

Mrs. Bowman returned with the,yikes,hardcoverversion ofSabrina’s Last Case: The Search for Answers,by Jack Kingston.

She flipped it open to the front, and a receipt fluttered out. She handed him a pen. “To Marjorie. And write something pithy.”