She stood and walked toward the two men across the open space of the station. When she reached them, Detective Dixon turned and spotted her, smiled. “I’ll be with you in just a moment, okay?”

Caitlin wondered if he didn’t use her name because he didn’t want to say it in front of Harry. It didn’t matter. The young man was staring at Caitlin, his eyes wide, and his mouth slightly open. It was obviously Harry, unnerved by how similar Caitlin looked to Grace.

“Okay,” Caitlin said to the detective, then added, “Is this Harry?” She met his stare. There was fear in his eyes, and something else. He looked distraught.

The detective rubbed the side of his nose, then quickly said, “Harry, this is Grace’s sister, Caitlin. Caitlin, this is Harry Ackerson.”

“Sorry I was staring,” Harry said. “You look just like—”

“I look like Grace. I know.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said, and his eyes now looked sad instead of scared. He had long, thick eyelashes like a girl’s, and high cheekbones.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to . . .” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say find the body.

“Caitlin, I’m going to walk Harry out, then we can talk,” the detective said. “Should we meet again in here”—he indicated by turning his head toward the conference room—“or back at my desk?”

“Either one. We can talk here. That’s fine.”

It was clear that, for whatever reason, the detective was hoping to shuttle Harry as quickly as he could away from the police station, so Caitlin said, “Harry. Can we meet, and maybe talk sometime today?”

Detective Dixon answered, saying, “I’d rather that Harry not discuss details of the case.”

“We won’t. He won’t. I just want to talk with him since he was spending time with my sister.”

Harry was alternately looking at Detective Dixon and Caitlin, not speaking, and Caitlin thought of someone at a tennis match, watching the ball go back and forth over the net.

“I can’t stop you,” the detective said, and Caitlin turned toward Harry.

“Will you meet with me?”

“Okay,” he said.

“Will you wait for me, outside of the station?”

Both Harry and the detective, speaking at the same time, said that there were too many reporters outside.

“I could meet you somewhere else,” Caitlin said. “Just tell me where.”

“Where are you staying?” Harry asked.

She told him, and they agreed to meet in an hour at the Agamenticus Diner, near her motel.

“I don’t know what you hope to get from talking with Harry,” Detective Dixon said, after returning to the conference room. “I’d rather you weren’t talking with him at all.”

“He was spending time with my sister. I need to know what she was like during her last few days. Is he a suspect? Is that why you don’t want me to talk with him?”