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She was literally one of the only people who’d ever thought so.

I said, “You know, a lot was made of the fact that I didn’t try to render aid, but no one instructed me to. And the coroner herself said that it wouldn’t have been of any use.”

“That stuck out as pretty unfair to me, too,” Matilda said. “It demonstrates some really rigid thinking. It really was too late by the time you got to Peyton’s office.”

“It demonstrates something,” I muttered.

“So, the police arrived and then what? You were actually dating Detective Raleigh Jackson, correct?”

“He wasn’t a detective back then. But yes. Raleigh wasn’t one of the first officers on the scene though. The first officers arrived, I told them exactly what happened, they asked me a few questions, and then told me I was free to go.”

“Did they ask you about your relationship with Tom Peyton.”

“No.” I grimaced. “And I didn’t volunteer the fact that we’d had an argument earlier that day. It wasn’t— I was still in shock. And I truly thought Tom had committed suicide. I wasn’t sure…”

I wasn’t sure what Astrid had said to him. I knew that Tom’s position in the company meant everything to him. And I had basically told Astrid it was me or Tom. Hoping, assuming, she’d of course keep the more valuable employee: Tom.

I said, “It wasn’t a deliberate omission. I knew he wouldn’t have killed himself over an argument withme. It just…didn’t occur to me. Which, I know, sounds lame.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed. “But you didn’t know you were auditioning forDatelineback then.”

There was the truth.

“Obviously, they should have searched me. They should have questioned me thoroughly. They should have tested me for gunshot residue. But they didn’t have any more experience with murder than I did. There hadn’t been an actual homicide in Little Copenhagen for more than thirty years. And also, I’m sure that first night I got a pass just by virtue of being a Bredahl.”

“Oh,hellyeah.”

I was starting to like Matilda a lot.

The waitress arrived with our lunches.

She set my soup in front of me. “How are you, Casper?”

I looked up in surprise. “Okay, thanks.”

“I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“Older and wiser,” I said.

“Crackers?”

“By now? Yes.”

She laughed, asked us if we needed anything else, and moved to the next booth.

I said to Matilda, “I’m sure if we all had it to do over, they’d have dragged me down to the station and I’d have begged them to test my hands and clothes and anything else they could think of.”

She tilted her head, studied me, said, “You failed the polygraph.”

I sucked in a breath, nodded. “Yes.” I briefly met her gaze, turned my attention to the beautiful intricate paper stars hanging from the ceiling. This time of year, those wood and paper Scandinavian stars were all over town, hanging from the eaves of buildings and street lamps, often illuminated from within, so as to cast complex patterns of light on the snow-covered streets.

Matilda asked gently, “Was that because you suspected your sister was involved?”

I moved my head, not really denying it, more denying wanting any part in it. I said, “The whole time I was being investigated, I truly believed everything would be okay because I was innocent. I kept talking to the cops when I should have listened to my lawyer.”

“And of course, you trusted Officer Jackson because of your personal connection.”

“Yeah. I’d have trusted him with my life.” I smiled without humor. “I did trust him with my life.”