“Does it still seem easy?” Nate lasered him with a look.

A flush crept across Tyler’s cheeks. “No.”

“Tell me what you know about the doll.”

The kid’s face went blank. “What?”

If he was acting, he deserved an Academy Award.

The attorney rejoined the conversation, homing in on Tyler. “Are we missing a piece of information?”

“No! I don’t know anything about a doll.” Panic flickered in his eyes.

“Where were you on Saturday night?” Nate asked.

“At my house.” Carl spoke for the first time. “He was there all evening. My oldest son, Wayne, was also there. We ate dinner about seven, watched TV, and Tyler left around ten.”

So the younger Holmes had a solid alibi.

“What is this about, Sheriff?” The attorney frowned at him.

“There’s been another harassment incident with Dr. Reilly.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Beads of sweat popped out on Tyler’s forehead. “I swear.”

“Why wouldn’t the person who paid you to do the first two jobs call you again?”

“I don’t know.” The knuckles of his clasped hands whitened.

“Sheriff, we’ve given you all the information we have, and we’ve done so in good faith. Do you have any additional questions for my client?” The attorney tapped the papers into a neat stack and closed the file.

“Not today.”

“Please call me if you wish to have another discussion with him. Otherwise, we’ll wait to hear from you regarding restitution for Dr. Reilly and the Templeton estate.” Atwood slipped the folder back into his briefcase, snapped it shut, and stood.

The Holmeses followed his lead.

Nate rose too. Unless his instincts were failing him, Tyler had come here in good faith, and he’d told the truth. That took guts—and suggested the troubled delinquent could at last be growing up.

He extended his hand to the younger man. “I commend you for coming forward, and for your willingness to take the consequences for what you’ve done. I’ll speak to Dr. Reilly and the firm handling Mavis Templeton’s estate and let your attorney know what they say.”

“Thank you.” He returned the handshake.

Nate showed them to the door, closed it behind them, and returned to his desk.

An intriguing meeting.

But while some questions had been answered, others had arisen.

Like . . . now that Tyler was more or less off the suspect list in the deaths of Mavis and Fred, were Grace’s suspicions unfounded? Could the sunflower seeds have been a weird fluke after all?

Who had paid Tyler to vandalize Grace’s property, and why was that person intent on frightening her?

Why hadn’t that person paid Tyler to leave the doll on her property instead of hiring someone else or doing the job themselves?

Nate skimmed his meeting notes. The cell number Tyler had provided would likely be a dead end, and it was doubtful the state police would find any helpful trace evidence on the doll.

So where did he go from here?

A knock sounded on his door, and he leaned back in his chair. “Come in.”