Ernie sighed. “Good people. Hard to believe they’re both dead. Murdered, no less. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” He looked at the people milling about in various stages of readiness. Car doors were slamming, wheels were being locked, helmets were being clipped. “Is one of us next? Or . . .” He frowned. “Could the killer be one of us? Could he be here right now?”

“It’s possible,” I said. “But last time I rode, I got this funny feeling from Warren Jorgenson—do you know him? He practically oozed animosity toward both Brown and Emily.”

“Warren?” Ernie snorted. “The man is all bark and no bite. He was just mad about the bike club election. No one kills over something as stupid as that.”

I wasn’t so sure, especially given the PPO his ex-girlfriend had taken out, but I let it go. And then I recalled Lindy’s story. “Say, a friend of mine was talking about someone who might have been riding with this group for a while. He had a bright yellow bike she really liked, but she can’t remember what kind. Do you happen to know who that was?”

Ernie nodded. “Sure. He rode with us for a few weeks, starting in midsummer, I think it was. I don’t happen to remember what make or model it was, but I remember the yellow. Don’t know his number, but if you call the city, I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you.”

“The city?” I asked. “He works there? Do you have his name?”

“Sure. The new city manager, Andrew Parnell. Though I hear he goes by Drew.”

Chapter 15

It’s all starting to make sense,” Tabitha said that afternoon.

“Really?” I gently swatted at Eddie with my hand that wasn’t holding my cell phone. “All of it?”

“Well, no, of course not. But at least we know why your bike club friend couldn’t remember whether the first name of the man Brown wasn’t happy to see started with an A or a D. Andrew. Drew. A common nickname, and so understandable that remembering was a problem.”

I shoved Eddie a second time, resulting in a soft “Mrr,” but he still didn’t want to move off my backpack, which was on the houseboat’s tiny dining table. This made it two wrongs, and in Eddie math, that made it a complete and total right.

“It also,” Tabitha was saying, “explains why Brown wasn’t happy to see Drew. What recently retired person would want to spend time with a former boss?”

“Me,” I said. “Depending on the boss.” Stephen, who’d been library director when I moved to Chilson, I would have crossed the street to avoid saying hello to, but Graydon and I got along well and I could easily see hanging out with him socially post-retirement.