“Darling, I’m so proud of you. And that painting, well, that’s something, too.” I’m beaming with pride, and something more, excitement.

Bo is standing next to Betsy, of course. They’ve probably been whispering about drinking margaritas on a deserted beach in Mexico. He shakes my hand. “Mrs. Harris, your daughter is incredible. You must be so proud.”

Ick. I fake smile at him while David moves in to give Betsy a big hug. “Way to go, kiddo. Did your grandparents find you?”

“They did! And I already thanked them for their generous graduation gift! They’re the best.” Betsy thinks she’s going to use that money to go on a big, long vacation with Bo. I can see her dreams as clearly as if they were my own.

“Oh, that’s what the deposit was for. There is so much fraud these days. I wasn’t sure, so I froze your account.” I smile.

“You what? Dad, oh my God. I’m leaving tonight. Fix it.” Betsy points her finger at me.

I chuckle because David isn’t paying attention, didn’t hear his own daughter. He’s texting his lover. “What, honey?”

I sense another presence enter our little social cluster. And here he is, the costar of our show, Detective Branson. Cue the Law & Order music. “Hey, Betsy. Alan Branson. Good to see you again. Congratulations on your high school graduation.”

Branson is in plain clothes. It’s clear at first that Betsy doesn’t have any idea who he is. Then she realizes and her eyes fly wide open. Beside me David looks like he’s going to be sick. He’s gawking at Branson.

“Thank you. Yeah, it’s super exciting.” Betsy’s unnerved as she shakes the detective’s hand and then turns to Bo. “We probably should get going. To the grad party.”

Sam appears over Branson’s shoulder. He really hasn’t learned his place in life. “Hey, Betsy, congratulations.” He gives Betsy a high five, and she returns it. Everyone is just so happy.

“Thanks, Sam! Nice of you to be here.” Betsy is anxious to get away, I can tell. “So, um, see you all later.”

“Actually, Ms. Harris, we’re going to need you to come to the station with us.” Branson flips out his badge, TV style, and Betsy’s face crumbles.

“What? No. It’s grad night. A party. Whatever it is can wait,” Bo stutters. He’s as shocked as Betsy that the cops are here for her. For them?

“We’d like to speak with you, too, Bo.” The way Branson says his name is priceless. Like there is something distasteful on his tongue.

Oh my goodness. I’m loving it. I cover my mouth with my hand so no one can see me smile.