“That’s up to you,” Kayla said. “Just as long as you don’t mind having a killer in your town. One who might have seen you spying on him that day.”

Dorothy scowled at her, then finally waved me to a chair.

She settled across the table, looked me over again, then said, “It was the day before that girl died.”

Dorothy had been in the hardware store, trying to return a frying pan she’d left on the stove too long. Cody had been in line behind her, getting impatient as she argued with the clerk, which I’m sure only made Dorothy all the more determined not to step aside.

That’s when Claire came in. She’d walked past Cody and smiled.

“The hussy,” Dorothy sniffed. “Don’t you ever behave like that, Kayla. That’s how your mom got into trouble.”

“If my mom hadn’t gotten into trouble, I wouldn’t be here,” Kayla said.

Dorothy harrumphed and resumed her story. Claire had smiled at Cody. Then she’d walked out the back door, tossing another smile over her shoulder. Cody—“being a man, and you know how men are”—forgot whatever he’d been there to buy and followed Claire out.

That’s when the clerk gave up and agreed to exchange Dorothy’s frying pan, so she didn’t notice what was transpiring outside until she was about to leave, and caught a glimpse of Cody and Claire out the back door.

“That girl wasn’t smiling anymore. She was saying something and Cody didn’t like it one bit. He caught her by the wrist. She shook him off and tried walking back into the hardware store, but he stepped in front of her. Grabbed her arm. I headed for them. That girl was stupid, flirting with a boy like Cody Radu, but I wasn’t going to stand by and let him hurt her. Cody saw me and let her go real fast. She came inside. He took off down the alley, I bet. Coward.”

“Did Claire say anything to you?” I asked.

“I told her she ought to be more careful, and she agreed. Looked real shook up, too. Felt kinda sorry for her.”

Not sorry enough to tell Bruyn about the fight. Claire had flirted to lure Cody outside, meaning they hadn’t been lovers. What had she said to him? And, more important, was it worth killing her for?

As WE LEFT Dorothy’s, Kayla reminded me of my ice cream offer. We’d just turned onto Main Street when a familiar silver SUV roared past.

When Cody saw me, he braked and squinted out the window, like he was hoping for a limp, a broken nose ... I waved. He sped off.

“I hate him,” Kayla said, almost too softly to be heard. “Even if he didn’t kill my mom, I hate him.”