“The pistol?” Emma-Mae let out a snort. “It’s not loaded. You think I’m nuts enough to come bustin’ out here in the snow and ice with a loaded gun?”

“Put it down!”

“I got a license.”

“Put the gun down. Now!”

“Well . . . fine.” She set the pistol on the coffee table, but held tight to the handle of her umbrella. “It’s just you can never be too careful.” Her eyes narrowed. “So how’d you get in? I locked up after you all left the last time.”

“I have a key,” Rebecca said.

Rivers left it at that.

“Well, for the love of all that’s holy, I wish someone woulda told me. I hear my cat, Fritz, growling at a squirrel or something and look out the window to see what’s got him all riled up, and I see this place—that’s supposed to be locked, mind you—wide open! Light on. Thought someone was robbin’ it.” She sent Rivers a beady-eyed look. “You mighta let me know.”

“It was early,” he said.

“Hell, yeah, it’s early.” She let out a frustrated breath. “But it’s common decency, y’know, rather than scarin’ me half to death. I had half a mind to call the pol—oh, well.” She squared her shoulders. “I don’t suppose you have any news about Megan?”

“No.”

Emma-Mae eyeballed Rebecca. “She’s behind in her rent.”

“Is she?” Rebecca didn’t seem surprised.

“Again.” Emma-Mae nodded, her short curls bobbing. “It’s due by the fifth, but she told me she’d have the money by the fifteenth, but hell, that’s just around the corner, isn’t it?” Before Rebecca could answer, she asked, “You heard from her?”

“Not since the other night, no.”

“So what am I gonna tell the owner, huh? That I was foolish enough to let her slide on the rent, and now what? I’m gonna evict her?”

“Not yet,” Rivers said.

“I figured she was planning on moving in with her boyfriend. They were thick as thieves, at least for a while, and it seemed it was on her mind. She kept hinting she was probably going to move.”

“Did she?”

“Well, not in so many words. That’s why I didn’t bring it up when I talked to that deputy earlier, but I had the feeling she was going to leave, and I just guessed it was probably with him . . . You think he had something to do with her going missing?” Emma-Mae’s eyebrows arched. “That’s what I read in the paper.”

“We’re still trying to work out what happened,” said Rivers.

“Well, this is a fine pickle. Just a fine damned pickle.” Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So you done here, or what? I know you’re the cops and all”—she waved in the air dismissively—“but I got a decent place here to run, other tenants, y’know, so . . .”