‘Yeah,’ a familiar voice called back. ‘It’s me.’

When Abby hopped in beside Bobbi, the interior light flicked on, casting Bobbi in an unhealthy yellow light. She looked terrible. There were sagging dark pockets beneath her eyes and her ponytail had fallen loose, releasing a tangle of wild hair down one side of her face. There was an open bottle of tequila in her hands, the cheap brand with the little red sombrero-shaped lid. She was still wearing her unflattering pastel-blue police shirt, an empty holster at her hip.

‘Shut the door,’ she said.

Abby did as she was told. ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened? Is it Maggie? The baby?’

The car light faded out and Abby watched Bobbi’s features shifting as she took a swig from the bottle, winced, then made a fist against the dashboard.

‘Maggie and the baby are fine. They’re great, actually, which is why I can’t take this shit home to them, which is why I’m here.’

‘What’s going on, Bobbi?’ Abby asked. ‘I’ve been waiting to hear from you since yesterday.’

Bobbi took another drink, and asked, ‘What have you heard about what’s going on in town?’

‘Only rumours so far. Biller thinks you guys found a body.’

Bobbi gazed down Bay Street and grimaced. Her eyes crept slowly back to the bottle, and she drank. ‘Biller’s right.’

‘He is?’ A sinister but not altogether unpleasant chill ran up her spine.

‘At the police academy, as part of your training, they show you a load of graphic photos,’ Bobbi said. ‘Gunshot victims, car crashes, suicides, you name it. It’s all shades of fucked up, but it makes sense. It’s designed to harden you up. They don’t want you puking your guts up every time you arrive at a crime scene. But the difference between the photos and what I saw today is like the difference between seeing a bear in the zoo and one in the wild.’

Abby’s heart began to thump. She felt woken up. She felt alive.

‘You saw the body?’ Abby asked.

Bobbi took a long drink, which was as good as a yes. Tears welled in her eyes. She dabbed at them with the sleeves of her police uniform. Abby’s instinct told her to reach across the car and give her best friend a hug, but Bobbi hated hugs, even from Maggie. So instead, Abby tucked a loose strand of hair behind Bobbi’s ear.

‘Do you know who it was?’ Abby asked. ‘Biller seemed to think he wasn’t a local.’

‘He’s a summer resident. He has a holiday place on the island, but God knows what he was doing here at this time of year.’

‘Thank God,’ Abby said.

‘Thank God? Thank God? What exactly are you thanking God for?’