He did a quick check to confirm the address, and ten minutes later was pulling into the driveway. He’d been past this house many times, and he certainly knew Madeline Plimpton. He had met her frequently in the past twenty years, when she was still publisher of the now dead Promise Falls Standard, and her profile in the community was much higher than it was now. Duckworth wondered how one dealt with having presided over a mini-empire for decades, only to see it wither and die.

As he rang the bell, he noticed the plywood nailed over one of the two windows that flanked the door. He spotted part of a gray-haired head through the undamaged pane, and then the door opened.

Madeline Plimpton said, “Yes?” And then, “Oh.”

“Ms. Plimpton,” Duckworth said. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Detective Barry—”

“I know exactly who you are,” she said, and reached out and took his hand in hers. “What a pleasure to see you, Detective Duckworth. What can I do for you?”

“It’s more like what I can do for you,” he said, and nodded at the boarded-up window. “You’ve had some trouble here.”

The woman smiled wryly. “Yes, we have. But surely they don’t have you on broken window duty.”

It was his turn to smile. “No. I understand you have a guest. Jeremy Pilford.”

She sighed. “I’m afraid my grand-nephew is not here right now.” A weariness infused her voice. “But come in and meet his mother, and her partner.”

He followed her into the house, through the kitchen, and out to the screened-in porch at the back of the house that was filled with generously cushioned wicker furniture. Madeline appeared surprised to find no one there.

“Oh,” she said. “Where have they gone?” She gazed out into the backyard, where a man and a woman were standing face to face, talking heatedly. “Oh, of course, they’re arguing.”

They went outside, crossed the yard. The couple cut their discussion short and turned to take in Madeline and this new visitor.

“Gloria, Bob, this is Detective Duckworth, with the Promise Falls Police.”

He offered a hand and they each took it, hesitantly.

“Have you caught the asshole who broke Madeline’s window?” Bob asked sharply.

Duckworth shook his head. “That was from the protest last night?”

“No,” Madeline said. “Someone threw a rock through the window earlier in the day. The protest was later. At least the police were here for that. No one got close to the house.”

“You can’t believe what we’ve been through,” Gloria said.

“Why are you here?” Bob asked.

“I came to speak to your son,” Duckworth said to Gloria. “About his safety.”

“He’s not here,” Gloria said.

“I told him that,” Madeline said.

Gloria continued, “We all know about his safety concerns. The whole Internet wants to hurt him.”