Since he’d just heard me talk about a murder, I didn’t give him any points for mind reading. “Last night,” I said, “I heard someone say that since the police are looking for Ryan Anderson, that Ryan must have killed Pug, too. Is that true?”

Detective Inwood sat, continuing his facial expression of nothing. “Every avenue of investigation is being pursued.”

Of course it was. Just like always. But I was getting the distinct impression that the detective would be very willing to tag Ryan for the murder of Pug Mattock. Two murders, one murderer. How tidy for him. How conveniently easy. Clearly, I had to make sure all those other avenues were just as wide and well traveled.

“Pug and Ryan barely knew each other,” I said. “Pretty sure they only met the once.”

“When was that?” the detective asked.

Ash’s pen was now at full attention, and I internally berated myself for talking too much. “On the bookmobile. A few days before Pug was killed. They hadn’t met before, and even then it was only a short conversa—”

I came to a full and sudden stop.

“Ms. Hamilton,” Detective Inwood said sharply. “You remembered something. What is it?”

“Um. Nothing. I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Minnie.” Ash’s voice was gentle. “You know you have to tell us.”

But did I? I thought about it and sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I do have to tell you, just in case it meant something. I’m sure it doesn’t, so you’ll be wasting your time, but Ryan got a text message on his phone. Pug was standing right next to him, and he might have read the text.”

The detective leaned forward. “Do you think Mr. Anderson recognized that Mr. Mattock could have seen the text?”

“Can’t say for sure,” I said. A stray thought about George Washington and cherry trees zipped through my brain. “But,” I added reluctantly, “probably. Maybe probably.”

Hal asked the exact time and date and, after pulling out my phone for the bookmobile’s schedule, I told him.

Ash’s eyebrows went up. “That’s the last text he got, isn’t it?”

“Deputy Wolverson,” Detective Inwood said, and even I could tell it was a rebuke. Ash colored and slumped slightly.

I, on the other hand, sat up tall. “There’s no way Ryan would have killed Pug over a text message!”

“Wouldn’t it depend on the contents of the text?” the detective asked mildly.

“Tell me what the text was and I’ll let you know.” I stared at him. “But you’re not going to tell me, are you, because it’s an active investigation. Then I won’t waste any more of your time,” I said, standing.