“Damn,” the older man said, his steaming mug ignored before him. He then contemplated the expansive view through the window before adding, “I don’t know what to say. It was parked outside one night and gone the next morning, just like I reported.”

“You live here alone?”

“No. Well, my wife and I do. The kids come by when they can, but they both live out of state, have jobs and families. You know how it is. We built the place so they could visit and have room to run, but it rarely happens. Still, you always hope, right?”

Les reeled him in. “I noticed you have a garage. Don’t you use it for the Mercedes?”

“Usually, yeah. But not that night. That’s always the way, isn’t it? The one time you let your guard down. But it’s not like I’m living in the bad part of town. I mean, we hardly see anybody around here, much less some guy with a crowbar, or whatever he used. And like I did with you, I usually can tell when somebody’s coming up the drive. That got me thinking about when it was stolen, in fact. I wondered if the thief walked all the way up—probably had a buddy at the bottom in another car. They either saw the Mercedes from there, driving by, or maybe in Keene and followed me or Lucy home and waited. She’d been grocery shopping that day, and I’d been down there, too. Had to buy more wood glue for a project I’m working on.”

“You even curious about how a dead man ended up in your trunk?” Sam asked, appreciating how the coffee had sharpened her concentration.

“Of course,” Shaw reacted, taking a sip himself. “But I wouldn’t know, would I?” he asked afterward.

Sam didn’t reply, leaving Lester to ask, “When were you last aware of your car being parked out front?”

Shaw glanced at the ceiling. “Oh, I don’t know. You can see the parking area through this window here. I suppose it was sometime after Lucy tidied up after dinner.”

“After it was dark, then?”

“Well, it’s lit up out there. I mean, from the lights out the windows. It’s all in the report. You ought to give that a look.”

“We will,” Sam said pointedly, having already done so.

“Did your wife notice anything that night?” Les asked. “Where is she, by the way?”

“She’s having a nap. Sorry.”

“This early in the morning?”

Shaw grinned. “You got me. Truthfully, she’s sleeping in.” He gestured with his hand, as if holding a glass. “She got a little carried away last night with the vino. It sounds bad when somebody’s still in the sack at this hour—to me it does, at least. Sorry for the smoke screen.”

Sam had produced a sheet of paper from her pocket and smoothed it out before her. She fixed their host with a stare and asked, “Why’re you lying to us, Mr. Shaw?”

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”