CHAPTER 13
“I am not made for stakeouts.” Sam shifted in the front seat of their rental car, wishing she were in yoga pants instead of this dress. Wishing, too, that she hadn’t gone for that extra bottle of water. It wasn’t like there was a bathroom anywhere nearby. “How can you just sit there?”
Griff didn’t take his eyes off the exit where the bands would leave from, but she caught the flicker of a smile. “Practice. A couple hours in a cushy car after a solid dinner is nothing to days in the desert.”
“Didn’t you get bored? Have trouble paying attention? You could barely sit through classes back in high school.”
“Yeah. But that was the job. And I’d still take the quiet of the desert over Mrs. Newberry’s droning, any day.”
Their junior year English teacher had given Ben Stein a run for
