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“Speak for yourself.”

“Iamspeaking for myself.” Jack seemed to struggle inwardly. “You think I’m enjoying this? Dylan’s my friend too. I don’t want to believe he killed his girlfriend, but that’s how the facts are stacking up. And that’s what I have to go by. Not your feelings. Not my feelings.The facts.”

That was painful, but it made sense. Ellery was silent. Unfortunately, Jack added, “And you’re not helping.”

Uh. Oh.

“You got it. We won’t discuss it again.” Ellery yanked the shower curtain back into place.

Over the rush of water came a very loud silence on the other side of the plastic curtain. Then the curtain gusted and blew back as the bathroom door silently closed.

Despite the brisk and beautiful weather, Ellery, unsurprisingly, was not in the best of moods when he arrived to open the Crow’s Nest a short time later—and the sight of the Silver Sleuths already gathered around the sales desk did little to help.

Nora spotted him and demanded, “Whereon earth have you been?” As though Ellery worked for her instead of (in theory) the other way around.

Watson, however, was delighted to see his fans and supporters ready to greet him, and he snatched his leash right out of Ellery’s hand, galloping up the center aisle to say his hellos.

Arf. Arf. Arf.

He was immediately treated to bits of breakfast sandwich, bagels, and blintzes, which he wolfed down as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“He’s getting so big!” Edna exclaimed.

“Just about the size of a giant rat,” agreed Mr. Starling, who seemed recovered from his spell in dry dock.

Mrs. Ferris, despite being a cat person, cooed, “Who could resist those eyes?” And handed over another bit of breakfast sandwich to Watson who was all but batting his eyelashes.

Ellery swallowed his exasperation, pushing the door shut against the brisk wind blowing from the harbor. The sea breeze was so strong it shook the tall case enclosing Rupert, the pirate-garbed resin skeleton who served as the bookshop’s mascot. The glass rippled as though Rupert was about to break out of his see-through tomb. And given the way Ellery’s day was going—

His gaze fell on a square white envelope at the foot of the display.

ELLERY PAGE was printed in big, childlike letters.

His heart sank. Every time he thought his poison pen pal had moved onto more interesting subjects, another one of these greetings from the Twilight Zone showed up.

He felt around in his pocket for the small roll of plastic waste bags he kept on hand for Watson’s convenience, tore off a green bag printed with tiny paw prints, and gingerly picked up the corner of the envelope.

“Dearie, what are youdoing? You’re late for your photoshoot!” Nora cried.

At the same moment, Hermione announced, “Someone tried to kill Lara Fairplay last night!”

Ellery dropped the envelope. His head shot up. “Whatdid you say?”

Nora made shushing motions to Hermione. “Don’t distract him with that now.” To Ellery, she said, “She’sfine. The stage trap door gave way last night during her performance.”

Ellery’s heart stopped. “She fell? Was she hurt?”

“No, no. It’s all right. She didn’t fall. It could even have been an accident.”

“Tosh!” Stanley said.

“Of course it couldn’t!” Hermione sounded indignant at the very idea ofaccidentshappening in their village.

Nora glared at them both. “It canwaittill he gets back,” she insisted. “Hecan’tmiss this.”

“Miss what? Get back from where? What the hel-heck is going on?” Ellery protested.

“The Gentlemen of Note calendar for the village widows-and-orphans fund. The photoshoot is this morning.” With silent, Jeeves-like efficiency, Kingston appeared, seemingly out of thin air, beside Ellery. He took the plastic bag from Ellery, retrieved the envelope, and said quietly, “Would you like me to put this in your desk drawer?”