“That’s okay. We just want to see.”

“All right.”

The backyard is a tangle of overgrown bushes and rusting patio furniture. I step outside on the little stoop. A cold wind blows against my face, scattering a hank of hair that’s fallen out of my bun. From here, you can’t see much more than the garage’s roof either. But distance-wise, the building is close, snugged up against the fence not far from Mrs. Murray’s back door. I turn and look up at the porch light. It’s pretty bright, and the perp probably would’ve noticed it as he searched the doctor’s office. And it stands to reason he would’ve heard the dog barking. I return to the kitchen, where Chase and Mrs. Murray are discussing dog training. Percy gives me a knowing stare. His dark eyes seem to say, “See, I tried to tell her somebody was up to no good over there Saturday night.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Murray,” I say, and hand her my card. “Please call if you think of anything else.”

She nods and places a gnarled hand on Percy’s head. “What a terrible shame. Jesus, what’s this world come to?”

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Pearson are already sitting in the small interview room when Chase and I get back to the station. We sit opposite them in cold metal chairs. Mrs. Pearson is petite, smaller even than Mrs. Bradley, and I’m already crossing her off my mental list of suspects, but she looks nervous, uncomfortable.

Mr. Pearson is a different story. He slouches in his chair with a cocky look on his face like, I’m here, but I’m not happy about it, so let’s get it over with. He’s got short, sandy-blond hair and Paul Newman eyes. He’s a real pretty boy, and I bet Mrs. Pearson needs to keep her eye on him.

After the preliminaries are through, we get down to business.

“Mrs. Pearson, I’m told you and Mrs. Bradley are good friends, go back a long way.”

“Yes. Best friends. Growing up, we lived two streets apart, went to school together.”

“Graybridge locals then?”

“Yes. Her family moved here when she was little.”

“What about you, Mr. Pearson? Where’d you grow up?”

“Boston. Jay and I lived in the same neighborhood. He stayed local for college, but I went to college in New Hampshire, where I majored in biology. My mom and dad still live in the old neighborhood. Dad’s a salesman, and Mom’s a housewife. I’ve got two older brothers and an older sister. That help?”

Mrs. Pearson’s eyes go wide, and she gives her husband a sideways glance.

Like I thought, a real wise guy. “It might. You’re good friends with Dr. Bradley, Josh?” I ask, looking over my notes.

“Yeah.”

“Anything either of you remember as odd at the party?”

They both shake their heads. “It was a fun evening,” Mrs. Pearson says, sniffs and paws through her purse, pulls out a wad of tissues. “We can’t believe someone would do this to Jay.”