Cody nodded. “Yeah, I did. It seems Mary Sudbury’s got a sister who lives in town. I thought we could talk to her.”

The chief folded his meaty hands. “Check out the sister and Dunham’s place. Assuming this hostage exists, let’s make her a priority, since no one else will. Gather as much information as you can. If we can find her on our own without stirring the pot further, so much the better; if not, bring in Mollenkamp for questioning. If he’s in collusion with Dunham, maybe he can give us an address. But the good citizens of Appeldoorn are already up in arms, and I’d like to avoid adding fuel to their fire.” He grimaced. “I took quite a shellacking at the Vanderhei boy’s funeral. It wasn’t pleasant.”

I touched dauda-dagr’s hilt. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on.” Chief Bryant forestalled me. “Daisy, I had a call from Amanda Brooks. She wants to meet with you.”

Oh, crap. Amanda Brooks was the head of the Pemkowet Visitors Bureau, intense, high-strung, and, to make matters worse, she’d hired her daughter Stacey, who happened to be one of my high school nemeses, as her assistant. The incident in the girls’ locker room with the bursting hot-water pipes that got me suspended? That was all Stacey Brooks.

I made a face. “Me? Why me?”

Leaning back in his chair, the chief shifted his folded hands over his belly. “She’s got some ideas she wants to discuss with Hel’s liaison. I promised you’d be in touch today. Understood?”

I sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Twenty-nine

There was yet another commotion taking place outside the police station, leading me to wish, not for the first time since the Vanderhei kid had drowned, that it wasn’t centrally located on downtown Pemkowet’s main street.

Stefan Ludovic.

He was leaning against the seat of his Harley, booted ankles crossed. A pair of dark wraparound sunglasses bisected the unnatural pallor of his face. It should have looked cheesy in a Eurotrash kind of way, but it didn’t.

He looked . . . hot.

A dozen tourists snapping eager photos agreed with me. Half a dozen wary protestors weren’t so sure, and neither was Cody.

“What’s he doing here?” he complained.

I fumbled in the inner pockets of my purse for Stefan’s smoky quartz pendant. “Oh, I kind of borrowed something of his yesterday. He probably wants it back. He said it was special to him.”

“You what?”

Cars squealed to a halt to let Stefan amble across the street with loose-limbed grace. He inclined his head to me. “Daisy.”

I was hoping my emotions wouldn’t start jangling in his presence. No such luck. I cleared my throat, handing him the pendant. “Stefan.”

It dangled from his fist. “Did it suit your needs?”