“Felice kept me talking because Tempest ordered it, but she didn’t know why. She should have suspected it was more than a mean prank. But I never got the feeling she was an evil person. She might not have liked me, or maybe she did, but she didn’t want me to die. Sometimes people become brave when they’re more afraid for others than they are for themselves.”

I didn’t mention to Billy that Felice had confessed that everything she’d told me about Bibi Chamberlain had been a lie. The granddaughter loved her grandfather and vice versa. There had been no changes in the will. It was all bullshit meant to string me along until darkness fell.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Billy asked.

“To Felice? Nothing, if I have any say in the matter. I’m not sure what crime the prosecutor could even charge her with. But I’m guessing her friendship with Bibi Chamberlain is over.”

“Has the mother been in contact with you?”

“Mariëtte sent me a thank-you note.”

It was an actual stationery card, the kind you mail someone who’s given you a present off your wedding registry. There was a letter folded inside.

Dear Warden Bowditch,

Thank you for helping me bring Bruce Jewett to justice. It is no compensation for the loss of Professor Chamberlain, both to his family and the world. I have heard that you were injured by his accomplices. For your suffering and the good work you did, I have made a five thousand dollar donation in your name to _________.”

The beneficiary of my largess was an animal rights organization that was engaged in a strategic campaign to outlaw hunting in Maine, piece by piece. I could only imagine how wardens would react if they saw my name on its list of donors, among the Hollywood stars and Manhattan socialites.

Billy and I spent a quiet minute watching his family. The room was toasty from the wood stove, and the entire house smelled of the pumpkin pie Aimee was baking for the next day’s supper.

“You sure I can’t come with you to the river?” my friend asked again.

“No, but thank you. Maybe another morning. I am not going to rest until I find him, Billy.”

“He’s a survivor. Like you.”

“Once maybe, but he suffered a lot of damage from that crossbow bolt. I saw how awkwardly he ran across the ice. He might be able to fend for himself for a while. But his days of chasing deer are over. He won’t make it out there alone.”

“I’m thinking of getting a dog,” said Billy, out of nowhere.

“Because there’s not enough chaos in your life?”