Newenham had been the same, except replace tourists with the fishermen and the processing plant workers who flooded in from Outside every summer.

He thought it over. His first stop should have been Erik’s office, but he hadn’t had one. His second stop would have been Erik’s home, but he didn’t want to waste his entire day stumbling around the back of beyond trying to find it. “Do you by any chance have Gabe McGuire’s phone number?”

“Of course, sir.” A brief clack of keys and she read it off to him.

To his surprise, McGuire answered his own phone. “Mr. McGuire, this is Sergeant Campbell.”

“Hey, Liam,” McGuire said. He didn’t sound happy. “I suppose this is about Erik.”

“You’ve heard?”

A snort. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Neither are you, Liam thought. “I need to talk to you about your party on Monday. In particular it would be helpful if you could prepare a list of everyone who was invited, who was there, and who didn’t show.”

“I suppose this is official?”

“Yes.”

A heavy sigh. “I’m not a law enforcement officer but I’ve played one in the movies. Come on out.”

“Thanks. Be there in twenty.” Liam clicked off. “Thank you, Ms. Petroff. Excellent staff work.”

She inclined her head and said gravely, “Thank you, Sergeant Campbell.”

He paused at the door to look back at her. She was still looking at him with that preternaturally blank expression. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He wasn’t sure she actually saw him.

Thirteen

Wednesday, September 4

BY THIS TIME HIS TRUCK COULD HAVE driven itself to its destination, but for the black bear and three cubs who charged out in front of it with suicidal intent. He slammed on the brakes and got honked at by the pickup in back of him for his pains. The bears, unconcerned, disappeared into the brush. They were as adept at the vanishing act as the moose.

The gate had been left open. He parked and knocked at the door. McGuire opened it almost immediately. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

McGuire pointed at the kitchen and Liam helped himself. They sat down on opposite couches in the living room, McGuire facing the view as was only due the homeowner.

“Do you live here alone?”

McGuire looked around. “What, too much room for one guy?” He sounded defensive.

Liam shook his head. “You’re an actor. And you’re a box office star. Where’s the entourage?”

McGuire grimaced, and Liam admitted that it was very odd indeed to watch a face he’d seen often on his own television screen make human expressions sitting right across from him. Liam was generally good at spotting liars and their tells but this guy was a professional actor, the first and only of Liam’s acquaintance. How to know what was real?

McGuire looked back at Liam, and something of his thoughts must have shown because—was it an expression of disgust—flashed across his face. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a cabin out back. Len lives there. A housekeeper comes once a week. The rest of the time it’s just me.”