They had insisted on walking back simply because Angie didn’t want to sit in the same car with Caroline Rose, not just yet. Not until she had some answers, starting with the most obvious one: who exactly knew about the summer she had spent with John Grant five years ago.

Of course the only person who could tell her that was John himself. She thought of him on the river, and her pace slowed for as long as it took her to banish that image yet again.

They crossed the old wooden footbridge over the river and paused to look down into the water. Angie said, “You don’t think—” She stopped herself.

“No,” said Rivera.

“No what?” Angie said. “I wish you’d stop answering questions before I ask them.”

“No, Miss Zula didn’t get us down here to play matchmaker for John Grant and you.”

“How would she even know about that?” Angie said, exasperated.

“Don’t ask me,” Rivera said. “But she knows. I could see it on her face, and so could you. Maybe she was watching you at the birthday party when John took that arrow. Your face gave a lot away.”

Angie pushed away from the bridge rail. “I’m going into town,” she said. “I’ve got to get this cleared up before there’s real trouble.”

“Sure,” said Rivera. “Don’t you want to know where he lives?”

Angie closed her eyes, counted to three, and then she nodded. She stayed that way while Rivera gave her directions, and didn’t move until she was finished.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Rivera asked.

Angie felt herself flushing. “You got a better one? Never mind, don’t answer that.”

She was off the bridge and walking fast when Rivera called after her.

“Tell him hello from me!”

The looks Angie got as she walked through town were mostly friendly or curious; a few people said hello and looked like they would have gladly stopped to talk. Any other time she would have done that, but just now she couldn’t afford to. If she let herself be distracted, if she stopped to think, she’d lose her resolve.

One plate-glass window after another reminded her that she wasn’t wearing makeup, that she had tied her hair back with a rubber band, and that the shirt she was wearing over jeans had a rip in the pocket. She was overdressed for the weather but underdressed if she compared herself to the other women her age who passed her on the street.