I hadn’t done anything really wrong, I told myself. I was looking for my sister, and that meant I had to do some things that were unusual, things that were out of character for me. It wasn’t like I’d committed a crime. Still, I couldn’t get Claudia’s face out of my mind. I’d bailed her out of jail once after she’d hit a guy in the face with a bottle in a bar fight. I’d been furious at being dragged into her troubles yet again. I’d lectured her until I ran out of breath, but she’d just smiled. You’ve been arrested again and you don’t even take that seriously, I’d said in frustration.

Maybe you should try it sometime, Lily, she’d said slyly. It was as if she’d had a vision of the future and was sure that one day I’d be the one waiting around in handcuffs.

“Sorry, miss, but we’ve got to take you to Pittsfield,” said a young officer with a crew cut. “Sheriff wants to talk to you.”

All I’d done was poke around some files at Idylhaven. It didn’t seem fair. We trudged out to the police car. The cop was decent enough unlock the cuffs and let me sit in the front seat. I was holding onto that last shred of dignity.

At the Pittsfield station, the officer escorted me to the sheriff’s door. I could hear laughter behind it. The officer smiled at me and I knocked uncertainly.

“Come in,” called a gruff voice. The officer opened the door and we were immediately hit by a cloud of smoke. I coughed and squinted.

“Guess we should open the window,” said Bruxton. Fanning in front of my eyes, I saw him slouching in a chair in front of the desk. He looked better in jeans and a shirt than he did in a wrinkled suit. His sandy hair was neatly combed and he looked like he’d shaved today.

“Sure thing,” said the bulky man behind the desk. He was gray-haired and had a walrus moustache and brought to mind Teddy Roosevelt, minus the monocle. A smoldering cigar sat in an ashtray on his desk.

“Tiger Lily!” Jesse got up and hugged me.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked, staring at Bruxton over Jesse’s shoulder.

“Got a little time on my hands, as my partner probably told you,” said Bruxton, exhaling smoke. “I hear some people come up to these parts to relax, so I thought I would, too. This is my old pal Terry Noyes.” I stared at him, feeling elated and grateful and yet completely inept at expressing it. He gave me that crooked little smile, where only one side of his mouth moved.