Til a Death Do Us Part: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery by Stacey Alabaster Page B

married." I cringed. Probably the wrong thing to mention to a man that had recently been left at the alter.
    He didn't seem to take much, if any, offense. "Is there really such a thing as an old version of a person and a new version of them?" he asked skeptically. “People are who they are and they don't change."
    I wondered if this was really true. Maybe Pippa was just back to her flaky old self. Or her true self. Or whatever it was that Jackson was going on about. A few years ago, I would barely have raised an eyebrow at Pippa flaking out on a responsibility like this. But, no matter what Jackson said, Pippa had changed. She wasn't that girl anymore. I could rely on her. Couldn't I?
    "Come on," Jackson said, checking his own phone, which apparently held some interesting information. There was even a small smile on his face for the first time in a while. "I think I know where we can find Surfer Dude."

    * * *
    " H ow did you find this address?" I asked, slinking down into the passenger seat of Jackson's car while he turned the light off so we couldn't be spotted. My very first official police stake out. And I was terrified. How long could we survive in the car without food or water? What if I needed the bathroom?
    "That number your friend gave me—"
    "Simona's not my friend," I corrected him.
    "Well, the number wasn't active, but a buddy down at the station ran it and the owner apparently lives at this address."
    I glanced up at the ten-story, grey apartment building to the left of the car. "Which one?" I asked. There were probably at least a hundred apartments crammed into the old building. Most likely, most of them were studios with barely enough room to swing a cat.
    Jackson doubled checked. "Fourth floor," he said. "The one right in the middle."
    I was a little skeptical that we would actually spot him. After all, in the short time we'd been sitting there, a dozen people had already come out of the building and even more had gone into it.
    I glanced up at the middle apartment on the forth floor. "Looks like the lights are out," I commented.
    "Well, we'll just have to wait for him to come home then."
    I let out a small sigh.
    Jackson offered me a bottle of water. "No thanks," I said. "We might be stuck in here for a while." I thought about Aunt Cassie at the wedding. If only she hadn't had to go to the bathroom that day...then maybe...
    "Hey look," Jackson said, grabbing my arm. I had to admit, it was nice spending all this time with him. And it was very cozy in his car. Even romantic, kind of, in spite of the sketchy neighborhood.
    "What?" I asked, trying to force my mind to stay on track.
    He pointed up to the forth floor. "The light is on," he whispered.
    I frowned. "But we didn't see anyone who looked like Surfer Dude go up." And it had been dusk since we'd arrived, so it wasn't like he just suddenly needed the light switched on now.
    Jackson leaned forward against the steering wheel. "I know," he said. "Let's go."
    "Go up there?"
    Jackson already had the door open. I hurried after him, slamming my side of the door as I chased after him. "Is this really so wise? Do you have any good reason to question him?"
    "Yes," Jackson said, hurrying forward. "He was seen acting suspicious at a major crime scene. Isn't that enough?"
    I supposed so.
    The elevator was broken so we had to climb up four flights of stairs. They were hard and concrete and I wasn't used to so much physical exertion. By the time we'd climbed three, I was already almost out of breath and I had to stop with a stitch in my side.
    "Come on," Jackson said, impatiently. "Geez, you really are out of breath. What, do you have asthma or something?"
    I shook my head as I gripped my side. "No. Just really out of shape," I wheezed.
    Jackson waited a moment for me to catch my breath and held out his hand to help me the rest of the way up the stairs.
    "I'm okay now," I said as we reached the door that apparently belonged to Surfer Dude.
    "Are you sure?" Jackson asked,