“All the dogs?”

Kristin blinks up at him. “I told you it was a sad story.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. I asked him afterward, and he just said, ‘Everything dies.’ But I think he was angry at Father. At any rate, Mother said no more pets, so we never had another, but truly, I would love to have a puppy.” She looks around the corridor walls. “Where to now?”

Bell is aware that serial murderers often break down the moral taboo on killing by practicing on animals. He thinks of what it would take, to shoot a pack of dogs you loved, and then he suddenly remembers the story about the school cat and has to work hard to keep his face blank. He points right. “This way, please.”

When he opens the door to the Cool Room and Emma sees their guest, she’s as dumbstruck as he was. He tries not to take any reassurance from that.

“Emma!” Kristin swoops forward and clasps Emma’s hand. “Oh, it’s so good to see you! This is very exciting. Have you been well?”

“Uh, I’ve been…” Emma plays catch-up real quick. “Sure, I’ve been okay. Hi. Nice to see you again, Kristin.”

“It was so wonderful to have visitors the other day! And I was thinking about the questions you asked me, about my brother. Have you seen him again? You have, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ve seen him again.”

“Was anything I suggested helpful? Because he can be very difficult. And I’ve thought of some more things. They’re just little bits and pieces, but I wrote them down on a scrap of paper, here.…” Kristin lifts her hand and there’s a little satin pouch attached to her wrist by a string. She opens it, feels inside, then steps forward and simply upends it on the desk. “I’m afraid they searched it when I came in, and I… Oh, here it is.…”

Among the weirdest collection of handbag items Bell has ever seen—an acorn, a handkerchief, three red leaves, a cork from a bottle, dried rose petals, a stub of pencil—is a loosely folded piece of notepaper. Kristin fishes it out and smooths it open. Over her shoulder, Bell catches Emma’s glance, her quickly glared What the hell? He can only reply with a helpless shrug, which Kristin doesn’t see while her eyes are down.

“You’ve written out more tips about Simon?” Emma says. “That’s, um—”

“Because you might have to see him again.” Kristin looks up. “If his insights are about the Berryville case, you might need to. Because solving that case is really important.”

“It is important,” Bell agrees.

“Then you need my help. Or rather, I need to be able to help.” Color in her cheeks now. “It makes me feel better, to help.”

The idea of Kristin Gutmunsson assuaging her conscience like this rasps on him. But the Christian in him—or maybe it’s his mother’s voice—is saying let her have her atonement.

Emma is more merciful.