Detective Inwood slid Ash a glance that was easy to interpret. Everybody has enemies, it said. And I was inclined to agree. Even if you were the mildest-mannered person ever, you could unknowingly make enemies. You could have bought a property coveted by another, for instance. Or you could have married the woman someone else loved. Enemies were all about us; it was just that most of them never made the leap to murder.

“What about Brown’s wife?” I asked.

Without having to open the file, Hal said, “He’d been married for forty-one years, to Lindy Bernier. Her maiden name isn’t yet part of the investigative record.”

“Kids? Grandkids?”

“Yes, and yes.” He rattled off their names and ages. Two sons and a daughter, all married, all with young children of their own. “The three families live downstate, within a few miles of each other, and have for a number of years.”

It sounded nice. If you couldn’t find a way to make a living Up North, at least they had each other to rely on. My sole sibling was my brother, Matt, and he and his family lived in Florida. The distance wasn’t conducive to close relationships. My oldest niece had spent last summer with me, but that wasn’t the same as watching the kids grow up day by day, or being able to drop off a casserole when everyone was sick. Not that I knew how to make a casserole, but I was pretty sure takeout would be okay.

Ash glanced at Hal and said, “Now that we know it’s murder, we wanted to ask you to tell us all over again what happened. We’ll ask Julia, too,” he hastened to add, “but we wanted to talk to you first.”

So, once again, I had to relive the entire episode. I told them about the moment I saw Brown lying in the road, about those long-drawn-out-horrifying eternal seconds when I thought I might hit him, about the arrival of the EMTs and Deputy Nowlin, Eddie’s escape, and the finding of the bicycle.

When I finished, I shook my head. “But knowing he was murdered doesn’t change any of that. Or change how I perceived anything.”

“No?” Hal asked, and I could have sworn there was a smile lurking somewhere behind his typically bland expression.

“Not a single thing?” Ash leaned forward.

“Well, now I’m wondering even more about the fact that his bike was stashed behind a tree. It just seemed weird, and . . .” The two men shared a look. “What?”

“You’re seeing the forest,” Ash said, “but not the most usual explanation for someone stopping by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.”

I frowned at him, feeling stupid. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Um, maybe it’s more of a guy thing.”