I just have time to get Violet up and dressed and give her breakfast before Officer Grady arrives. I meet Max at the bottom of the steps. Boomer is cradled in his arms and I can’t help but smile at the sight. “Officer Grady will be here in a half an hour. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make you some toast.”

He grimaces and carefully lowers Boomer to the floor. “Do I have to be here?” he asks.

“I think you should,” I say and reach up to brush an unruly curl out of his eyes and he pulls his head back. “There’s no school and don’t you want to find out what’s going on?”

“I guess.” He shrugs and opens the front door to let the dog outside.

“Plus, I think it will make Violet feel better having us both there. Hey, what else do you know about Joseph Wither?”

“It’s just some stupid urban legend,” Max says and I begin to go upstairs to get dressed and wake Violet. “I think he’s here,” Max says. “There’s a police car pulling up.”

“Shit! Let him in and tell him we’ll be down in just a minute.” I rush up the steps, taking two at a time. I was hoping to wake Violet slowly. Gradually. Now I have to hurry her, never an easy task.

“Violet, honey,” I say, trying to keep my voice upbeat and easygoing. “It’s time to get up.” Violet buries herself more deeply beneath the covers and mumbles something. “Come on, Violet.” I ease back the covers. “You have to get up. Officer Grady is here to talk to you.”

This immediately gets her attention, but not in a good way. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she moans. “He’s mean.”

“He’s not mean,” I say, trying to keep my voice relaxed. “He’s trying to find out who hurt Cora. Don’t you want to help him do that?”

“I already told him,” she complains.

“Well, sometimes the police have to ask the same questions in a lot of different ways. Just tell him the truth and then he’ll be on his way. Got it?” Violet nods reluctantly and swings her legs over the side of the bed. “You get dressed, wash your face and brush your hair. We’ll go downstairs together.”

I go to my side of the room and dig through my dresser for clean clothes. I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, shove my feet into a pair of tennis shoes. On the other side of the room divider I hear Violet doing the same thing. “Can I come through?” I ask, wanting to give her privacy to change.