Once they’re all settled—Emma and Kristin on the couch, Bell standing nearby, acorns crunching under his boots and clearly unsure where to put his hands—Emma decides it’s time to press for details.

“Kristin—” She pauses. “Can I call you Kristin?”

“Oh, please do.” Kristin smiles eagerly.

“When I visited your brother, he shared some insights he had. Not about his own case—about a current murder investigation.”

“Yes, Simon is very clever. And of course that’s his particular area of interest.” Kristin plucks a stray blade of ryegrass at the base of the couch, brushes the feathery bud against her cheek.

“We think he might know more. So I may have to go see him again. I was hoping you might be able to give me some ideas about getting this information from him, and also about…” Emma opens her hands to complete the sentence.

“How to handle him?”

“Yes.”

Kristin almost bounces. “You could ask him about me! That would put him off guard. He’s very protective of me.”

“Except for that time he held you hostage at knifepoint,” Bell grinds out, and Emma wants to kick him.

Kristin seems unaffected, though. “Oh yes—he was really not in his right mind that day. Officers and agents were everywhere, pointing guns at him.… I think he felt cornered. He was upset and scared, and even I didn’t know what he would do. Simon behaves according to a certain logic most of the time, but that day he wasn’t thinking at all.” She angles her head and looks right into Bell’s eyes. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Bell’s posture and face stiffen in a way Emma’s becoming familiar with. “I think I’d better go wait in the truck.”

He starts to turn and Kristin stands, tugging at her own fingers.

“Mr. Bell—I’m sorry.” Expression fraught, she waits until he’s turned back before continuing. “My brother has done a lot of awful things, and I’m always apologizing to people for them.”

Bell’s throat works but he stands his ground. “It was my dad. He was the one who took your place the day your brother was arrested. He was the one your brother stabbed.”

“Oh my god.” Kristin’s hands fly to her mouth.

Bell looks at his feet. “But then you put a letter opener in your brother’s neck, so I guess that evens the scales a little.”

Emma’s surprised he spoke up. She’s even more taken aback when Kristin Gutmunsson crosses quickly to Bell—and hugs him.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” Kristin’s voice is muffled in Bell’s shirt. “I didn’t realize—I’m just so sorry.”

“It’s, uh… it’s all right.” Bell’s face suggests he’s regretting he spoke, but Kristin’s arms are wrapped around him, holding him fast. “Miss Gutmunsson—”

“Kristin.” Emma helps peel the girl away. “It’s okay. You’ve done nothing wrong. You tried to help, remember?”

“I tried my best.” Kristin’s eyes are glistening. “But Simon was so strong.…”

This is a girl whose entire life has been defined by what her sibling did. It tempers Emma’s queries, but she needs answers.