As soon as I exited Paddles & Pedals, I texted Tabitha about how oddly Cody had acted when I’d mentioned Emily and Brown.

Tabitha: Interesting, but do you want to learn more about Warren?

Minnie (after being miffed for half a second that her insider dirt on Cody had been dismissed so readily): Of course! What do you have in mind?

And so, ten minutes later, I found myself walking through the front door of a local fitness center, an establishment that, heretofore, I’d never once entered. Every New Year’s Day, like most everyone else, I thought about getting a membership, but the thought always passed quickly. I sated my guilt by telling myself I was young, I walked a lot, and anyway, I wasn’t that overweight.

Tabitha thrust a piece of paper at me as soon as I walked into the small lobby. “We both have guest passes for this visit. Free to me special because I have these.” She smiled and pointed at her dimples.

“Should get myself some of those,” I said, accepting the pass. “Um, we don’t actually have to use these, do we?”

“Now, Minnie,” she said severely. “Where is your sense of adventure? How can you be the brave and intrepid bookmobile librarian who rights wrongs if you don’t put yourself out there?”

I scrambled for an excuse that would keep me from looking like an idiot in front of everyone in the gym. I didn’t mind being laughed at, in a general sort of way, but I needed time to mentally prepare for public humiliation. “How about tomorrow? Because I don’t have the right shoes.”

We looked at my footwear. My office desk had a drawer full of dress shoes and I walked back and forth in ancient sneakers I’d worn in college.

Tabitha eyed them. “Those don’t look suitable for anything, but I’ll admit that you’re not dressed properly. How about this? We’ll use the passes to look around. Chat with people. Because a further look into Mr. Jorgenson’s Facebook page gave me the distinct impression that he spends a lot of time here.”

I looked around, slightly alarmed. “He’s here now?”

“No, no. I’m sure he’s not.” She tipped her head, considering. “Well, almost sure.”

“Tabitha,” I protested, “we saw him last night at the bowling alley. What’s he going to think if we run into him two nights in a row?”

“That this is a small town in northern lower Michigan and that you run into the same people over and over October through May. Now. Are you coming in or aren’t you?” She pulled the interior door open and stood there, waiting.