Page 51 of Dear Debbie

“No,” I admit. “What happened?”

“Coach Pike was arrested,” Izzy says. “He had a camera in the girls’ locker room in the shower.”

I let out a gasp. “He was recording teenage girls taking showers?”

“I heard the camera was just put in and hadn’t started recording yet,” Izzy says.

Thank God. The thought of what could have been on that footage is traumatizing.

“My friend Ayan told me he’s saying he didn’t do it, but, like, I heard they found a program on his phone that connected to the camera. So he definitely did it.”

A program on his phone that connected to the camera. Just like what we have at our front door.

“I’m sure he did it,” Lexi mutters. “Coach Pike is a total creep, and everyone knows it. I’m just surprised he was stupid enough to get caught. I mean, did he really think he could put a camera in the girls’ locker room and nobody would notice?”

She’s right. Anyone who did that is just begging to get caught.

“So, Izzy,” Debbie says, “now that Coach Pike is gone, do they know who will be coaching the girls’ soccer team?”

“Mrs. Laslo is going to take over,” Izzy says. “And she says even though Coach Pike told me I was off the team, I can join up again. She’s not strict like he was.”

“You were off the soccer team?” I ask in surprise.

“Jesus, Dad,” Lexi says. “Get with the program.”

She’s right. I clearly have no idea what’s going on in my family right now. But in my defense, I did just quit my job yesterday.

Izzy lowers her eyes to her plate of food. “The coach said I wasn’t fast enough.”

“And that was ridiculous,” Debbie chimes in, her eyes suddenly animated. “You were the best player on the team. I don’t know what he was thinking. Not only was he a despicable pervert, he was also a terrible coach.”

Izzy shrugs.

“Well,” Debbie says, “thankfully, that’s a mistake on his part that will now be corrected. I suppose at least some good came out of the terrible thing he did.”

I look over at Debbie again, sitting across from me at the dinner table. She has already made a dent in her food, but the lump of pasta on my plate is just sitting there. Izzy and Lexi have also piled pasta on their plates, although Lexi seems to be eating only one noodle every several minutes. I’m the only one who isn’t eating at all.

“Aren’t you hungry, Dad?” Izzy asks me.

Actually, I’m not. I don’t think I’ve ever been less hungry in my life.

I wipe my hands on my napkin and push my chair back from the dinner table. It makes a loud scraping sound on the floor. “I’ll be right back,” I announce.

All three faces look up at me questioningly.

“I just need to run upstairs and…” I clear my throat. “I need to check something for work. It’ll just be a minute.”

Debbie gives me a funny look. My excuse sounded weak, because it is weak. I don’t need to check something for work. But there is something I need to take a look at, and my thoughts won’t stop racing until I do.

I hurry up the stairs to our bedroom. I shut the door behind me, although it’s not like anyone will be following me. I perch on the edge of the bed, on the side where I usually sleep, and wrench open the drawer of the nightstand.

The crumpled paper that I stuffed inside this morning is still there. The one where I wrote down the address that popped up when I did the search for Debbie in her Findly app. And now I dig my own phone out of my pocket.

I don’t know the full name of Izzy’s soccer coach who kicked her off the team. However, typing a few keywords into Google quickly brings up the news article about a high school sports coach named Robert Pike who was arrested for filming minors in the girls’ locker room at the high school.

He’s saying he didn’t do it, but, like Izzy said, they found a program on his phone that connected to the camera.

I scroll away from the news article, and the next thing I search for in my phone is “Robert Pike home address.” Instantly, the address of the home he owns in Weymouth pops up on the screen.