This type of detective work was definitely not for her. Give her a regular homicide investigation any day, where she could be herself—a dogged detective who didn’t have to playact to get the job done.

Cate kept an eye on Kayla as the girl pulled on a pair of leggings in preparation for her date with the mystery man whose identity she still hadn’t revealed.

“Did you tell Ms. Howard you’re leaving the campus?” She shifted away from her desk.

“It’s been taken care of.”

Odd.

Only a student—or a legal guardian—could sign a girl out.

“How?”

“It’s fine, Cate. I’m not going to get in trouble.”

No, that wouldn’t be like Kayla. She never did anything that could put her future at Ivy Hill at risk.

So who had authorized her to leave the premises?

The girl’s cell chirped, and she pulled it out. Frowned at the screen. Put the phone to her ear. “Hey . . . That’s okay . . . Sure. I guess . . . Yeah. See you there.” She lowered the phone.

“What’s going on?”

Kayla slipped the cell into her purse. “Slight change in plans. He got delayed. He’s sending a cab for me.”

Her friend didn’t want to show his face on campus.

Alarm bells began to jangle in Cate’s mind. There was a very bad vibe swirling around this whole scenario.

And her plans to get a glimpse of the guy when he picked up her roommate had just been blown to smithereens.

“I’m getting a weird feeling about this, Kayla.”

She sank onto the side of her bed. “Me too.”

“I don’t think you should meet this person alone.”

“I told him I would—and I’ve always trusted him.”

“Do you want me to come along? The Starbucks is probably in a mall, and I could wait in a nearby store until you’re finished.” After she peeked in and got a look at the guy. Maybe took a photo with her cell. “He doesn’t have to know you brought anyone.”

The girl caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I promised him I’d keep this between us . . . but I would feel less nervous if a friend was close by. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“If you leave campus without authorization, though, you could get in trouble.”

“I can get my dad to approve it.” She pulled out her cell and held it up.

“What about the Spanish test tomorrow? You should study for that. I don’t want to be the reason you get a bad grade. Mr. Martinez won’t be happy.”

“Trust me—it’s not a problem.”

“Well . . . if your dad is willing to call, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll text him while I run to the bathroom. When’s the cab coming?”

“In twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.” She started toward the door.

“Wait.”