On hearing the bells, Mao turned. “Got reservations?” Her vocal chords had seen a whole lot of smoke.

Ryan and I looked at each other, surprised. It was three in the afternoon. The place was empty.

“Gotcha!” Mao laughed, showing gaps once occupied by molars. Then she swung the spatula to indicate we could sit wherever.

We chose a graffiti-scarred table next to a window shaded by venetian blinds. Through the slats, I could see trees and blue picnic tables. The adjacent wall was layered with photos and business cards, many faded to illegibility.

“Good thing I’m not the ‘I told you so’ type.” I continued pressing my point. “Because I’d be saying it.”

“We’ll see.”

When Mao appeared at our table, Ryan and I both ordered fish and chips. Rainwater had sent us to Bullock’s saying everything on the menu came straight from the lake.

“Let’s hope we’re not too late.” When Mao was back at the griddle, I rolled on. “Again.”

“Rainwater said no one’s entered or left the house since Snook got back from the store.”

“Ollie asked him to talk to her?”

“About ten minutes ago. But if she refuses, he can’t go inside.”

Mao brought our drinks. Diet Coke for me. Moosehead for Ryan. I hoped his choice didn’t offend our buddy on the wall.

Ollie arrived as Mao was delivering our food. His face was tense, his cheeks flushed with asymmetrical raspberry splotches. I knew the look. The hunt was on, and he was loving it.

Turned out Ollie and Mao knew each other. Her name was Mary.

“What you cooking today, sweetheart?” He gave her his trademark jaw-hitch maneuver.

“Cod, trout, and pike.”

“What’s good?”

“Everything.”

“Pike.”

“Excellent choice.”

Ollie waited until Mary was out of earshot, then spoke to me. “Nice. Very few have the poise to carry off the hamburger-chin look.”

“I used to model for Chanel.”

“Really?”

“No. Who’s Zeb Chalker?”

Big grin. “Bola’ed you over, I hear.”

My look suggested I wasn’t amused.

“Chalker’s MED.”

I tipped both palms in question.

“Municipal Enforcement Division. They’ve got maybe six constables, a couple of supervisors, some patrol cars and snowmobiles. Do mostly traffic, animal, and crowd control. And, of course, koi ponds.”

“Hilarious. What about Scarborough?”

“He’s in town, all right. Staying with one of his greaseball pals.”

“Unka and Castain know he’s here?”

Ollie’s eyes rolled to Ryan. “Both claimed to be unacquainted with the gentleman.”

“They denied Scar was trying to cut in to their action?” I asked.

“They didn’t admit to having any action. Hadn’t a clue the meaning of my questions. They’re honest citizens trying to make a buck leading outdoor adventures for tourists. Castain offered to take me bird-watching.”

Mary arrived with Ollie’s root beer. Left.

“So you got nothing,” Ryan summed up.

“I learned that neither Unka nor Castain cares for me.”

“Indeed.”