Frank nudged his chin in the direction of the boat. “What kind of boat do you have?” It was something he’d learned in the short time he’d been on the force. Sometimes asking off-subject questions could lead a person to say something he hadn’t planned.

“Oh, it’s nothing special. Just a jon boat. But I love it.” He glanced behind him. “Want to see it?”

“Sure.” Frank didn’t know much about boats, but he’d humor the guy.

The boat was sitting on a trailer in the grass between the house and the dock. It was green aluminum, and a fresh stripe of royal blue stretched from the bow to the stern on both sides.

“It’s a good-looking boat.”

Jay ran a hand down one side, avoiding the still-wet paint. He was quiet, almost reverent, in his appraisal of his boat. It was a week until Thanksgiving, and a cool wind blew over Frank’s face and rustled the reeds growing along the banks of the river. Clouds skirted the moon and leaves fluttered in front of the porch light, casting strange shadows on the lawn.

Frank hooked his thumb toward the house. “Mind if I see inside before I head out?”

A shadow of irritation crossed the man’s face, but it was gone as soon as it had come. “No, not at all.”

Jay led the way up the back steps to the door and opened it. Inside, the living room was tidy and cozy. A woman’s touch was evident in the needlepoint pillows and a couple vases of dried flowers. Through the doorway to the kitchen, an under-cabinet light illuminated clean counters and a row of jars with their labels perfectly straight.

“Your wife’s sleeping, you said? Why don’t you check on her while I’m here.”

Jay raised his eyebrows. “You sure that’s necessary? I’d hate to wake her up.”

“I’d just like to make sure she’s okay.” Seems you would too, Frank thought, if someone said she heard a scream coming from your house.

Frank followed Jay up another set of stairs, this time to the second floor and a doorway to the right. Jay pushed the door open and light from the hallway pushed through the darkness within.

A sleeping form lay under blankets on the bed, and the soft shoulder sticking up over the blanket showed it was clearly a woman. She moved, held a hand up to her eyes, and peered back over that shoulder. “Jay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, love,” Jay crooned in a gentle voice. “Go back to sleep.”

“Who’s with you?” Her voice held just the barest measure of panic, easy to miss under the guise of poise.

“No one, just a friend. He’s leaving now. I’m going to clean up the paint and I’ll be up here with you in a few minutes.”

The way he talked to her was almost childlike, as if he needed to dumb down his words and voice for her to swallow them. It set Frank’s teeth on edge.