She heard sirens at the same time she heard a vehicle drive up the access way and suddenly stop. Before she could twist around to see who had arrived, Simon was crouching beside her.

“Meg?”

“I’m fine.” That’s as far as she got before Jackson crouched beside Simon, being less subtle about sniffing the air for the scent of blood.

Then Merri Lee ran out of Howling Good Reads’ back door. “Michael says the police were called. There’s trouble? Meg, are you all right?”

“Suspicious package,” Pete said. “Something the police should investigate. Meg had a bit of a reaction to the package and needed some air. No need for alarm.”

“You, Ruth, and I need to talk later,” Meg told Merri Lee.

“A lot of us have something to talk about,” Simon growled.

Meg drank some water. Learn the nature of a thing. Until she knew what was in the package, she wouldn’t be able to understand the connection between it and a basket of apples—or why she’d seen something that wasn’t there.

•••

Monty walked into Captain Burke’s office, followed by Kowalski and Louis Gresh, who closed the door.

Burke eyed the door, then folded his hands on the desk blotter and gave the men his fierce-friendly smile. “I’m usually the one who decides if it’s a closed meeting.”

“This needs to be a closed meeting,” Monty replied.

“There was a ruckus in the Courtyard?” Louis asked.

“Of sorts. Theral MacDonald is all right. She didn’t know anything had happened, or that it concerned her, until I went to the medical office to talk to her. Meg wasn’t available, but Nathan Wolfgard was forthright about what had occurred.”

“So was Pete Denby,” Burke said. “He called me again while you were taking a formal statement from Nathan. The package was inspected?”

Monty nodded. “A box of expensive chocolates, with a card that read, ‘Sweets for a sweet girl.’ No signature on the card, and the only thing the clerk at Everywhere Delivery could tell us was the package was brought to their receiving window just before closing yesterday and the man paid the extra fee for perishable merchandise that needed to be delivered the next morning. The clerk didn’t remember much about the man; just that he looked like he’d been working outdoors—had grass stains on his clothes and dirt on his work boots. There is nothing to indicate the package was sent by Jack Fillmore, Theral’s abusive ex.”

“But?” Burke prompted.