A Detective's Guide to the Perfect Crime

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Margo had avoided telling her parents anything about the other night. When she had been run down by a black SUV with out-of-state plates. When Roman had actually saved her— which she was still shocked about. Roman didn't necessarily strike her as the type to play hero.

"Good morning!" Melody came skipping out of her room, Pickles hanging loosely in her arm. "Daddy, guess what!"

"What's up?" Jeff put down his newspaper to look at his youngest daughter.

Melody set Pickles down and he ran off in a grey blur back into her room. "I have the winter dance this weekend!" She spun around on her tiptoes and clapped excitedly.

"Wow!" Darci beamed from the living room where she sorted through bills and junk mail. "That's fantastic! Has anyone asked you if you want to go yet?"

"No." Melody shrugged it off. "But that's okay. I've still got the rest of this week to go."

"Speaking of," Margo craned her neck to glance at the microwave's digital clock, "shouldn't you be getting dressed?"

"Oh, yeah!" Melody, with all the pent-up energy of your average eight-year-old, ran back into the shadows of the hallway and into her bedroom.

Jeff laughed and shook her head. "We've gotta get her into some sort of after school track meet or something."

Darci made a noise that sounded disapproving. "We tried that, remember? She wouldn't pay attention to the teacher and kept going before the whistle."

"Ah:" Jeff nodded slowly. Margo could see that he definitely did not remember anything about that. He even glanced at her briefly while Darci was speaking as if Margo would remember better.

That was also a no. If there was anything Margo was really bad at, it was keeping track of other people's personal lives. Even her little sister's.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" Darci asked.

"I have work." Jeff responded, sipping his coffee before picking back up his newspaper.

Margo focused on the sudoku puzzle on the back page, partially covered by Jeff's hand. "I have school." She said, solving the puzzle in her head.

"How do you plan to get there?" Her mom went from organizing mail to folding the clean clothes on the couch.

"That's a good question." Margo was too focused on the squares and numbers.

"How did you lose your bike again?" Jeff interrupted her game, putting down the newspaper to look at her over the rims of his reading glasses.

Margo shrugged. "I was stopped at a red light and some guy didn't stop in time and ran into me." Nailed it, Margo praised herself internally.

Her mother shuddered. "I couldn't imagine what would've happened if that other driver wasn't there."

"Do you at least know who your hero was?" Jeff asked.

Margo took a deep breath, walking around the kitchen island with her plate. "Uh... Roman." She cleared her throat, keeping her back turned to her parents.

"Roman?" Darci echoed. "That sounds familiar..."

Margo heard Jeff slam down the newspaper. "That detective that was here?"

Margo rinsed her plate. "Um... yeah. That's the one. Roman Daley." She scrubbed at a strawberry stain.

"Hmm..." Darci hummed skeptically. "Why not just have him drive you?"

Margo looked over her shoulder with a scowl. "Mom." She groaned. "Dad, why don't you drive me on your way to work."

Jeff looked down at his watch. "Can't. I leave later this
afternoon. So you'd be getting there just as everyone was leaving."