It was logical. Even if it wasn’t protocol to split up like that, they were in extraordinary circumstances. Their case was growing colder by the day, and they were handcuffed by their lack of access to information, a problem that was only about to get worse. At best, they’d be able to talk to a few more people during the storm, but more likely they’d be trapped in Mama’s house, hunkered down just like everyone else.

But Mia didn’t want to be left behind, not on St. Lucy’s. The rational part of her mind told her that wasn’t what was happening, but the irrational side knew how easy it would be to sink into the cloying familiarity of home.

For the first time in her career, she was worried about being able to be objective. She didn’t say any of that. She was already too aware of the way Izzy’s suspicious eyes sometimes lingered on her when the woman didn’t think she was aware.

“Earl’s service is tomorrow,” Mia said. “Why don’t you stay for that. Then we’ll see if Quinn can get you back before the storm moves in.”

“You’ll be okay?” Izzy asked. She was a good cop.

Mia looked away to find her own reflection in the window. It was distorted, but even still she could read the fear on her face. “I’ll be okay.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

IZZY

Bodies pressed against each other, curves and elbows and shoulders slotting into any empty space, as the residents of St. Lucy’s attempted to fit in the one-room church that was desperately trying to accommodate the mourners.

Against the snow and the white clapboards of the church, they looked like ravens, black and sleek and chattering in the early-morning light as they waited in line to squeeze into what Izzy knew must be a tiny room.

Mia and Izzy joined the line, a few back from Patty Masterson. The woman had forgone the blue lipstick for a more respectful cherry gloss, but her dress was cut in a deep V, revealing the lace of her bra beneath the fabric. Izzy gave a little salute when Patty tipped her head in Izzy’s direction, but they both kept it respectful, understated.

“You’ve made friends,” Mia said under her breath, amusement in the twitch of her lips.

“I can’t figure her out,” Izzy mused, letting her eyes run along the rest of the crowd. She recognized Max from the bar. And Quinn, the pilot, had sidled up behind them. “She gave me all the gossip on you but also defended you.”

“She’s a good resource.” Mia didn’t sound annoyed but rather fond, actually. And Izzy gave up the hope of ever understanding this place.