They’re both lying.

“I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Cady,” Lola called after her, “remember that silence is golden. Let them talk. You can learn more by listening than talking. Play it by ear!”

Cady’s heart slammed back and forth against her rib cage when she parked the Mountaineer in the police guest parking lot. It looked like any other police station in the country, with its brick walls and stout, wooden door. Perhaps it was a tad more picturesque with the bright, new spring ivy climbing up the walls. Nestled between City Hall and the United Commerce Bank, it blended into the town square.

She was jittery. Atlas knew it, too. He whined, wondering if he was going to get to go with her or not. She handed him a rawhide chew from the pocket on the driver’s side door. Resigned, he put his head between his paws and watched his mistress. “I don’t think I’ll be long. Wait for me and watch the car. Good boy,” she said, tickling him behind the ears.

Lola’s envelope in her hand, she climbed out of the Mountaineer and walked across the parking lot to the front door. She passed two police officers and grinned when one of them whistled approvingly. She attributed the whistle to the slut shoes. She fought the urge to laugh out loud as she received two more whistles and four approving looks as she went up the steps to the main door.

Inside, she walked up to the desk and asked for the police chief. “Miss Lola Jor Dan asked me to drop this off personally to Chief Ward.”

“Go on back, second door on the right. I’ll buzz him to tell him you’re on your way.”

Cady smiled. The desk sergeant smiled back.

Cady licked at her lips when she brought up her hand to knock on the plate glass door that said, CHIEF OF POLICE, MAXWELL WARD, in gold leaf. A deep voice said she was to come in.

The picture in the paper didn’t do him justice, she thought. Twenty years ago he’d been tall for his age. Then again, she’d been little, shorter than the others, so maybe he’d just looked tall back then. Boomer looked like he had stepped right out of GQ magazine. She knew all about GQ magazine these days because Anthony had copies all over the house. She blinked and changed her mind. Boomer looked better than the guys in GQ. Much better. He got up, walked around his desk, and introduced himself.

“Hello, Boomer! It’s me, Cady Jordan. I guess maybe I shouldn’t call you that. What do they call you these days?”

“Cady! My God, you grew up! Boomer’s fine. Most people call me Mac these days. Or Chief. I guess they still call you Cady. I heard you were back in town. I think we got here around the same time.”

Cady’s mouth broke into a wide-open smile. “I think so. I saw your picture in the paper. In a million years I never thought you’d be Indigo Valley’s police chief. I don’t know why, but I thought you’d be an architect or an engineer.”