“Promise,” I said, and thanked her. It didn’t take long to see that Ryan’s name wasn’t in there. I slid the binder back across the bar and it disappeared from whence it came. So much for finding Ryan—or even for finding out more about Ryan—through one of his dart team buddies.

Rafe bumped my elbow. “What was all that about? You have a sudden interest in darts?” After I explained, he said, “Good idea. Too bad it didn’t work out.”

I glanced back at the dart board. Ash was laughing uproariously. Trying a little too hard to have fun and not think about Chelsea, perhaps?

“You’re doing that thinking thing, aren’t you?” Rafe tapped my forehead. “There’s a moral dilemma going on in there. I can tell.”

I made a face. “Can everyone read me so easily, or is it just you?”

Kristen, who’d been talking to Scruffy, said over her shoulder, “Everyone,” then went on talking to her husband.

“Everyone who knows you well,” Rafe said, patting my hand in an avuncular manner. “What’s up?”

I told him what Cookie had said, that he saw Pug buying a Conti sculpture, and that Herb Valera thought his family Conti might have been stolen. “But he wasn’t sure,” I finished. “So is this important enough to tell Ash? Maybe there’s a tie between Pug’s murder and the sculptures.”

Rafe took a swig of beer to help him think, then said, “You know what, I’d leave it until we know whether or not the Valera sculpture was really stolen. If it wasn’t, if his sister did send it out to get cleaned, then there’s nothing to tell, right?”

I nodded. “So obvious when you say it out loud.”

“Captain Obvious, that’s me.” He slapped his shirt front. “Besides, do we know if Pug ever finished buying the sculpture?”

It was an excellent question. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to get the answer.

*   *   *

Thursday was a bookmobile day, one of Hunter’s. The roads were clear and dry, so after our normal preflight check of the vehicle, I summoned all the courage I possessed and told Hunter he could drive.

“You sure?” He asked the question casually, but the inside of his skin seemed to twitch with excitement.

I laughed. Sort of. “You know and I know that you’ve been ready since the day you started. It’s me who has a little problem letting go.”

“Mrr!”

“Didn’t ask you,” I muttered, settling into the passenger’s seat and buckling up. “Hunter, start her up. Let’s roll.”

And roll we did, smoothly and confidently. After a few miles, the muscles in my shoulders started to relax. A few miles later, the rest of me started to relax, and a few miles after that, I began to enjoy myself.