Parker took a sip of his coffee. “I remembered reading about the case back in New York. Followed the news coverage here and there. And when I got to the scene today, something scratched at the back of my mind. I didn’t put it all together until I ran a search.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “There was a printout of a painting at the crime scene. When I did a reverse image search, your website popped up.”

My jaw worked back and forth before I said anything. Not that Parker had asked a question, but his silence told me that he wanted me to offer something. “There were never copies of my art at the other crime scenes. Have you talked to the detectives in New York? The FBI? He crossed state lines back east, so they were involved.”

“I’ve got a call in to the FBI and spoke briefly with a Detective Chen at the NYPD.”

I nodded. “Chen is good people. He saw me through this whole nightmare before.”

“Seems like it. He’s gathering copies of their files and faxing them to me. But they seem pretty certain they’ve got their guy.”

I traced my finger along the ridges and swirls of the table’s grain. “I thought they had, too. He confessed.”

Parker made a humming noise in the back of his throat. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone messed-up in the head confessed to something they didn’t do.”

“I guess that’s true enough.”

He looked me in the eye. “I have to ask where you were last night, Brody.”

I knew it was coming, but it stung nonetheless. I’d had to answer a million questions asked by the cops in New York until they were finally able to clear me. I understood the need for it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t piss me off.

“Seriously, Sheriff?” Shay barked. “Brody has been targeted. It’s been proven. Someone is twisting the thing he loves most in the world. And now you show up asking him where he was?”

I squeezed her knee. “It’s okay.” Something about Shay jumping to my defense made it just that: okay. I turned back to Parker. “I was here all night. I don’t have anyone to really corroborate that—”

“Yes, you do,” Shay piped in. “I’ve had the keys to the boat for the last week. So, unless he swam to shore, Brody’s been here.”

Parker nodded. “That helps.”

“But I could’ve paid someone to pick me up.”

“Bullshit,” Shay said. “I sleep light. Always have. I would’ve heard a boat coming up to the dock and leaving.”

“Wait,” I cut in. “I have the security tapes.”

Parker’s brows rose. “Tapes?”