“Nope. Whatever you choose will be fine.” She gave him an exaggerated wink. “Like I have so many commitments in this town.”

“One more question. How would you feel about spending the night at the inn?”

“My answer is yes. Another unqualified yes. Does that take care of it?”

“Oh, yeah!” He grinned and she loved it. Loved the way his mouth widened and his eyes crinkled. “Exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

“Now, let me get that order of toast I promised you.” As he stood to go inside, both dogs came to their feet. “Guys,” he said, pointing at them. “Don’t need your help. Stay out here and entertain your guest.” Minutes later he was back with two plates of buttered whole wheat toast, small bowls of jam and peanut butter on the side.

And then they left for the barn to feed the horses and turn them into the pasture, except for Patience, the new addition. They spent an hour with her; she was already comfortable with them.

As they returned to the porch, Mitch and Tina arrived with Carly—who was happy to accept Shallie’s offer of a drive “downtown.” She had plans to visit The Real Bean, possibly get together with Lindsey, and Shallie was pleased she’d made a friend. Their conversation in the car was jovial and didn’t touch on what had happened the night before. Shallie dropped her off near the café, said she’d text her about the pickup time, then went directly to the pizza place. Damn, it was lunchtime. She should’ve called in her order, but ended up waiting only twenty minutes and walked out with a small veggie pizza and a large chicken parm.

Driving the still-familiar route south of town, Shallie reached the motel, encountering next to no traffic. Needless to say, there weren’t any other cars in the lot. Russ kept his decrepit old station wagon—inherited from Norm—in a falling-down garage behind the building. Sitting in her rental, she waited for several minutes, nervously wondering what to expect. Would this really be the clue they needed? Or would it add to the confusion about Christine Fletcher? Would it make her feel better or worse, more optimistic or disheartened?

Carrying the pizza boxes, she walked to the office door—which opened immediately. Russ gestured her inside.

They sat in the office, which had been further cleaned up, somewhat decluttered and reorganized since she’d last been there. They started with the pizza and a glass of bourbon Russ insisted on (hers with lots of ice). Shallie was more than a little impatient to have this conversation, but left the timing up to him. Finally, after he’d finished almost his entire pizza and she’d eaten half of hers, leaving the rest for him, he said, “You ready?”

It was all she could do not to shout, Yes! I’ve been ready for hours. But she simply nodded.