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Ruthanne grimaced. “It’s still really early in the investigation.”

Andy nodded. She sounded more apologetic than confident.

“These kids all stick together. Every one of them claims to have an alibi. But once we get that list of missing items, we can start canvassing some of the pawnshops and antique stores in nearby towns. That’s going to be our best shot.”

“Right. Yes. As soon as I get settled, I’ll get to work on that.”

Ruthanne led the way out of the stockroom. “It’s going to mean a lot to Cutty to have you here when he gets out of the hospital.”

Andy swallowed. “I hope so. Yes.”

When they reached the front door, Ruthanne patted his arm, said bracingly, “Of course he will. Of course it will. You’ll see. Cutty’s a persistent old cuss. He’ll be home before you know it.”

Andy dredged up a halfhearted smile.

She opened the glass door, which the wind nearly yanked out of her grasp. “You should think about getting the lock on this replaced. In fact, you should think about having the whole door replaced.”

“It’s an antique. The entire building is an antique.”

No exaggeration. This entire length of Maine Street was designated to be of “historical significance” by the Camden-Safehaven Historic Landmarks Commission. In exchange for that charming black and brass plaque on the outside wall, he couldn’t so much as replace a door without getting permission from town council.

“True. Damn. Well, you might think about petitioning the town council.”

“I will.”

“If somethingshouldhappen, don’t hesitate to call, but I really do believe now that word’s getting around that you’re staying here, you won’t have any more trouble.”

Andy was noncommittal. Ruthanne was making good sense. He just hoped the local kids were as sensible as she was.

Studying him, she hesitated, her brown eyes thoughtful. “Quinn Rafferty is back in town. I don’t know if you heard.”

Sixteen years ago, Ruthanne had been a newly employed police cadet. She would certainly remember Andy’s accusations against Tiernan Rafferty. False, as it turned out, but made inall sincerity. Andy had truly believed Quinn’s grandfather had killed him. The old man had threatened it often enough.

“I heard.” He couldn’t come up with anything more than that now that the full, embarrassing ramifications of his long-ago course of action were sinking in. Believing that Quinn was dead, he had never given a damn what anyone thought of him. But now that Quinn turned out to be alive… Kind of awkward.

In fact, very awkward.

Ruthanne said, perhaps sympathetically, “They were always an odd bunch, the Raffertys.”

Andy said grimly, “Yes. They were.”

And that’s where they left it.

What did they call that missing-time phenomenon following an alien encounter? Or maybe thatwasthe name. Maybe Andyhadbeen abducted by aliens—it kind of felt like it, after the morning he’d had—because by the time he finished unpacking in the small, silent apartment above Time in a Bottle, it was suddenly four thirty in the afternoon.

The day was nearly over.

Which was good news, given that he’d been through one hell of a twenty-four hours.

He made up the guest-room bed, smiling faintly at the mementos of his childhood summers still scattered around the room: complete first edition sets ofThe Rover BoysandThe Hardy Boys, William Britain hollow-cast soldiers, a jar of old coins, another jar of sea glass. He’d caught the collecting bug early from Uncle C.

Three framed vintage recruiting posters hung over the brass bed.

Travel? Adventure?

Answer - Join the Marines!

Now that he thought about it, the recruitment posters were a funny choice given that Uncle C. had always been a peaceable man. Andy had never had any desire to join the military, but he still loved that poster of a khaki-clad Marine riding a leopard.