I was sitting there in the grip of a horrible idea, wondering how I could have possibly thought only a day ago that the world might be better if someone took Chuck Almand out right now. That was before I’d seen his secret face, the face he wore when he told me he had to hit me.

Tolliver started to say something, stopped. I looked at him. It wasn’t the time to remind them that I got paid for this work. His instinct to hold in his words had been a good one. No, I wasn’t reading his mind. We just know each other very well.

“Where do you want me to look?” I asked, and my voice was coming from far away.

That stumped her for a moment. “You’d know if the body was new, right?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll just take you everywhere we can think of,” she said.

I thought of Manfred sitting at the hospital, or in his hotel room, hoping we’d show up. I thought of the road out of town, out of this situation. But weighing that against the life of a boy, what could I say? Which Rockwell knew, of course.

“You’re ready to go, right? We’ll swing back later and pick up Mr. Lang here,” the sheriff said.

“No, I think not,” I said right back. “I’m not going anywhere without him.” Though it would be better if Tolliver went to help Manfred, if we had to be separated. But then…no. It was better if we stayed together. I was going to be selfish about this.

Tolliver vanished into the little bathroom while I made the sheriff useful by asking her to help me with my shoes. Tidmarsh tried not to snort, but he didn’t quite succeed. Sheriff Rockwell was game, and my hiking boots were laced up and tied in a neat bow in no time. I took my pills for the day and picked up the cabin a bit while we waited. I tried to bank the fire so it could be revived. The electricity might be back on, but there was certainly a chance it would go off again. The fireplace was still essential. I had a gloomy feeling we’d be spending another night here.

Manfred would be better than I at solving this problem. Maybe if he went to the house, or to the barn where we’d last seen Chuck, he could trace the boy somehow. On the other hand, it would be inhumane to ask Manfred to work just now. And he might not be up to it. He’d told me several times his psychic sense was weaker than his grandmother’s. I thought he was wrong, but that was what he believed.