“Sorry.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Long day, late night. I forgot to set my alarm. What’s up?”

She lowered her voice. “There’s a detective here from the sheriff’s department. And we got the autopsy report.”

That made me sit up straight. “And?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Daisy, I don’t know.” Her voice took on an irritated note. “Just get down here as fast as you can, okay?”

“Will do.”

I showered at top speed and yanked on a linen sheath dress so I wouldn’t have to take the time to worry about coordinating an outfit, then wolfed down a stale doughnut, eating it over the sink so I wouldn’t get powdered sugar on my dress. Dauda-dagr was a problem. Having been entrusted with it, I was pretty sure it was incumbent on me to carry it. How, exactly, was I supposed to accessorize a dagger as long as my forearm? I settled for switching out my purse for a woven straw satchel big enough to conceal it.

Phone, check. Keys, check. Magic dagger, check.

By the time I reached the station, Chief Bryant was wrapping up a conference with all the patrol officers, of which there were a grand total of six, and a plainclothes detective from the county sheriff’s office whom I vaguely recognized. The chief gave me a dour look as I sidled into the conference room, making me feel unwarrantedly guilty. A late-night summons from the Norse goddess of the dead was a pretty good excuse for being late to work.

Okay, maybe I do have a few daddy issues.

The chief dismissed all the officers but Cody Fairfax and the plainclothes detective. “Daisy, you remember Tim Wilkes from Sheriff Barnard’s office. He’s here to provide assistance and oversight.” His voice was neutral. “Detective Wilkes, Daisy Johanssen.”

“A pleasure.” The detective shook my hand, looking a bit bewildered. He was one of those average-looking Midwestern guys, mid-forties, with mild brown eyes, sandy hair, and a tidy mustache. “May I ask in what capacity you’re involved?”

“You can ask,” the chief said. “Not sure I can give you a satisfactory answer. Unofficially, Miss Johanssen is a special consultant on . . . unusual cases.”

Detective Wilkes processed that in silence a moment. “Chief Bryant, I do have to request your complete cooperation in this investigation,” he said. “And your complete candor.”

The chief nodded. “Understood. And I have to request your discretion, and possibly a willing suspension of disbelief. You’ve been assigned to the region long enough to understand that circumstances in Pemkowet are . . . unusual.”

The detective made a noncommittal sound. “You know I can’t cut any corners for you, Dave.”

“Not asking you to.” Chief Bryant held up one broad hand. “Daisy . . . Miss Johanssen . . . has uncovered a significant development I haven’t divulged yet.”

“Oh?” Detective Wilkes raised his brows.