Judy looked at her husband, who gave a tiny shrug as if to say, Why not?

Keller gestured for the diner’s door. Somewhere they could sit and talk.

“No, not in there,” Judy said. “You think they don’t like the Pines? Well, they really don’t like us. We’ve set up base at a farmhouse about ten minutes from here.”

“I’ll follow you there.”

The farmhouse had seen better days. The paint peeling, porch sagging. Several dogs scattered as the Adlers parked the van on a patch of dirt that passed for a driveway. Keller pulled the Nissan beside them.

Judy got out of the van, a dented Ford. Ira trailed behind his wife, something Keller suspected he’d been doing for as long as the Adlers had been married. Judy waved to Keller to follow them inside.

Keller climbed out of her car and looked around. A barn was about thirty yards away, the door falling off its hinges. Beyond that, just fields, not another soul for miles. She stepped around the mud and muck and mounted the porch steps. The wood was soft from rot. She stopped at the door and looked inside the place. Two men in their twenties sat in front of laptops at a long kitchen table. Stacks of papers and empty soda cans cluttered the work space. Dishes were piled in the sink.

A woman, heavyset and wearing sneakers and sweats, was also at the far end of the kitchen table, talking on her cell phone.

Judy called to Keller from inside. “Come on in. We don’t bite.”

The interior was just as run-down. Cracked linoleum floors, faded wallpaper with bare patches as if someone had started trying to remove it and given up. An avocado-green refrigerator matched the green laminate countertops.

Ira cleared away some of the trash and clutter from the table, making a space for their guest. “Please, have a seat.”

Judy introduced Keller to the others—the production team, who all seemed more attentive when they learned that Keller was with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

“Sorry about the mess,” Ira said, sitting next to his wife, across from Keller. “We’ve had a lot of late nights around here. Get you some coffee or something to drink?”

“I’m fine. Already hit my caffeine quota. But thank you.” Keller looked at the monitors and equipment. “How’s the sequel coming?”

“Slow. How’s your investigation into the death of the Pines going?”

“Same,” Keller said.

Judy Adler gave a slight chuckle, as if amused at Keller’s evasive response. She said, “We’ve been looking into Charlotte and what we’ve found is, um, surprising.” Judy looked at a member of the production team. He had a man bun and wore flip-flops with jeans. “Show her.”