“Handwriting experts are comparing it to the boy’s signature, but so much schoolwork is done on computers now.” Smith shrugged. “Since we’ve got a confession that fits all the known facts and I found the boy’s killed before . . . I called a detective in the force where they used to live, and he remembered the case very well.”

“Are you going to look for him? Or for them?” Manfred asked. He made sure his face was composed.

“The answer would have to be, yes, we are going to look for Connor real hard. He’ll always be a threat to others unless he has a lot of serious therapy, and probably even afterward. For Shawn and Creek Lovell? Realistically, they’re not going to be our priority. We’ve got actual bad guys to catch.”

The sheriff rose to take his leave. “I guess I won’t be coming back to Midnight as often,” he said. “I had never had to drive out here before Aubrey went missing.”

“I hope you won’t ever have to again.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, you don’t look too good.”

Manfred was certainly willing to believe that. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well last night. Nightmares.”

“Every last person I’ve talked to here today has said the same damn thing,” Smith said. “You seem to be having some kind of epidemic.”

“Maybe because it’s the beginning of winter,” Manfred said absently, letting his gaze flicker over to the screen that waited for him. SandyStar521 was waiting to find out what her future held in store.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” said Smith, taking the hint. He moved, a little stiffly, toward the door. He seemed to be feeling the onset of winter himself. “You got a visitor.” Smiling, the sheriff nodded toward the front window. Mr. Snuggly was looking in, precariously balanced on the narrow sill.

“Let’s see,” said Manfred. “Maybe he wants to talk to you.”

The sheriff looked at him oddly, and Manfred realized there hadn’t been any touch of levity in his own tone. When Smith opened the door, Mr. Snuggly leaped down from the sill and arranged himself in front of the sheriff: looking up with his great golden eyes, tail wrapped neatly around his paws.

“What do you need, cat?” Smith asked, smiling.

Manfred held his breath. But his hope was dashed when Mr. Snuggly did not answer Smith out loud. That would have been pretty amusing, and Manfred needed to see something amusing.

Instead of speaking, Mr. Snuggly turned to start back to Fiji’s house. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Smith was following, and when Smith did not, the cat stopped to look back. Manfred didn’t know if the invitation included him, so he waited until Mr. Snuggly gave a tiny jerk of his head, a gesture that seemed to include him as well as the sheriff.