“Sure, absolutely. First-year crunch. Tons of reading. Designed to weed out the unmotivated. I’m so busy I’m nuts, but what the hell.”

Kim came through the doorway into the kitchen with a cheery smile for Madeleine. “Thanks again for the jacket. I hung it up in the mudroom. Is that okay?”

“Fine. But I’m dying of curiosity.”

“About what?”

“I’m trying to imagine ‘the single sickest thing’ you ever heard.”

“What? Oh! You heard me say that? Kyle was telling me something. Yuck.” She looked at him. “You tell her. I don’t even want to say it.”

“It, uh … it’s about a peculiar disorder some people have. This might not be the best time to go into it. It takes some explanation. Maybe later might be better?”

“Okay, I’ll ask you again later. Now I’m really curious. In the meantime would you like a drink or a snack? Cheese, crackers, olives, fruit, anything?”

Kyle and Kim looked at each other, shook their heads.

“Not for me,” said Kyle.

“No thanks,” said Kim.

“Then just make yourselves comfortable.” Madeleine gestured toward the armchairs around the stone fireplace at the far end of the room. “I have to finish up a few things. We’ll be having dinner around six.”

Kim asked if she could help with anything, and when Madeleine said no, she excused herself and headed for the bathroom. Gurney and Kyle settled into a pair of wing chairs that faced each other over a low cherry coffee table in front of the hearth.

“So …” they began simultaneously, then simultaneously laughed.

Gurney had a strange thought. Apart from the fact that Kyle had his mother’s mouth and jet-black hair, looking at him was like looking in a magic mirror at a restored image of himself—with two decades of wear and tear sanded off.

“You first,” said Gurney.

Kyle grinned. It was his mother’s mouth but his father’s teeth. “Kim was telling me about this TV thing you’re involved in.”

“I’m not involved directly in the TV aspect. In fact, I’d like to stay as far away from that part of it as possible.”

“What other part is there?”

Such a simple question, thought Gurney, as he tried to think of a simple answer. “The case itself, I guess.”

“The Shepherd murders?”

“The murders, the victims, the evidence, the MO, the rationale presented in the manifesto, the investigative premise.”

Kyle looked surprised. “You have doubts about any of that?”

“Doubts? I don’t know. Maybe just some curiosity.”

“I thought all that Good Shepherd stuff was analyzed to death ten years ago.”

“Maybe I just have doubts about the basis for nobody’s having any doubts. Plus, some odd little things have been happening.”

“Like her crazy ex sabotaging the stairs?”

“Is that the way she described what happened?”

Kyle frowned. “There’s another way?”