He was obviously dying to get the scoop on us, and I was just as determined not to spell it out for him. “Yes, we know her,” I said. “A very nice woman.”

“Just for a couple of days? Maybe we can persuade you to stay longer,” Mr. Hamilton said. “Though with the bad weather coming in, you may want to rethink staying out here. You’d be better off with a room in town. It takes them a while to get out here when the electricity goes out.”

“And you think that’s gonna happen?”

“Oh, always does when we get a lot of ice and snow like they’re predicting for tomorrow night,” Ted Hamilton said. “Me and the wife have been getting ready for it all day. Went to town, got our groceries, stocked up on water and got oil for our lanterns, and so on. Checked the first aid kit to make sure we can patch up cuts and so on.”

You could tell the oncoming bad weather was a big event for the Hamiltons, and I got the distinct impression they’d enjoyed themselves to the hilt preparing for it.

“We may be on our way tomorrow, with any luck,” I said. “Please tell your wife we appreciate her fixing us something. We’ll get the dish back to you, of course.” We said all this a few more times, and then Ted Hamilton went back down the outside stairs and around our cabin to get back to his. Now that I was listening for it, I could hear his cabin door open and I thought I heard a snatch of his wife’s voice raised in eager query.

I took the aluminum foil off the dish to reveal a chicken and rice casserole. I sniffed. Cheese and sour cream, a little onion. “Gosh,” I said, feeling respect for someone who could whip up a dish like that in the forty-five minutes Tolliver and I had been in residence in the cabin.

“If you had some leftover chicken,” Tolliver said, “it would only take twenty minutes for the rice to cook.”

“I’m still shocked,” I said. My stomach growled, demanding some of the casserole.