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When they arrived, the school’s visitors’ lot had emptied, though a handful of children still loitered on the sidewalk waiting for tardy parents under the watchful eyes of a pair of teacher’s aides. Telling Avery to stay in the car, Colly hurried inside. At Satchel’s classroom door, she stopped short. The room was empty. As she stood wondering what to do, a noise behind her made her jump. The woman who’d directed her to Brenda’s office that morning was staring disapprovingly over her half-moon glasses.

“Mrs. Newland, Mrs. Boyles sent me to look for you. She’s with your grandson at the nurse’s station.”

“Why? What happened?”

The woman shrugged. “Follow me.”

The nurse’s station was near the main office. Colly crossed the empty waiting area and found Satchel in an exam room, sitting on the edge of a padded table and wheezing raggedly into a paper bag held to his face by Wanice Boyles.

“There you are.” Wanice smiled. “See, Satchel, I told you she’d come soon.”

Colly looked at her questioningly.

“Everything’s fine. We got a little scared, that’s all.” Wanice patted Satchel’s back.

His face was white and tear-streaked. Colly could hear his teeth chattering. He jumped off the table and grabbed onto her, burying his face in her shirt.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I got here as soon as I could.” She ruffled his hair.

Satchel hiccupped but said nothing.

A bony woman in a nurse’s smock entered the room carrying a file folder. When she saw Colly, she stopped and gave her a look that Colly knew well.

“You’re Mrs. Newland? You didn’t mention on the health forms that your grandson has asthma.”

Colly felt her jaw tighten. “He hasn’t had a flare-up in ages,” she said with clumsy defiance, thinking, Having half your family slaughtered by a madman can be distracting, lady. I’m doing my best .

“Please bring his inhaler tomorrow. Breathing into a lunch bag isn’t exactly the standard of care. And since he has anxiety issues, it would help if you’d pick him up on time.”

Colly met her eyes coldly. “Thanks.” Hoisting Satchel onto her hip, she grabbed his backpack and left the infirmary.

I’m already so sick of this damn town , she thought as she helped Satchel put on his sun-sleeves and hat in the foyer. Did these people really suppose their stares and slights could mean anything compared with the hell of her own conscience?

Colly exhaled slowly. The sooner she finished this case, the sooner she could leave Crescent Bluff and the Newland tribe behind her.

“Grandma, you promised you’d be on time. You promised .” Satchel was crying again, though he’d stopped in the nurse’s station.

“I know, bud. It won’t happen again.” She stood and zipped his pack.

“Yes, it will.”

Colly didn’t respond. He was right. It was impossible to shield family from the effects of police work. She hadn’t even been able to keep hers alive.

“How was school today?”

Satchel sniffled. “The other kids stared at me.”

“Because you’re new.”

“Because I’m weird.”

Colly laid a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, buddy. Let’s go.”

When they reached the cruiser, Satchel’s eyes widened. “Where’s our car?”

“We have to run an errand—then we’ll get our car and go home.”

Still sniffling, Satchel climbed uncertainly into the back seat but froze when he saw the young patrolwoman behind the wheel. Avery had been smoking, and though she’d rolled down the window, the car reeked of cigarettes. Colly was annoyed.

“Satchel, this is Avery. She’s helping with my investigation.”

Avery gave Satchel a curt nod through the partition. “Hey, dude.”

Satchel stared. “Your hair’s purple.”

“Yeah, well, your hat’s weird. I guess we’re even.”

Colly chewed angrily on her lip as she helped Satchel buckle his seatbelt. She hadn’t expected Avery to be good with children, but was it too much to ask for her not to make him cry again when he was just calming down?

To Colly’s surprise, however, Satchel wiped his nose on his sleeve and regarded Avery with interest. “I have to wear it for my solar urticaria.” He enunciated carefully, proud of the term.

“Cool.” Avery started the car.

Satchel looked pleased but was fighting not to show it. I’ll be damned , Colly thought, closing the rear door.

As they drove through town, her phone rang. “Hey, Russ, you at the site? I had to get Satchel, but we’re heading back.”

“Yeah, I’m here. Where’s this baseball cap you were talking about?”

“Behind the fireworks stand. It’s half-buried, but we trampled the grass pretty well. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“There’s trampled grass, all right. But that’s all. You’d better get here fast.” He hung up.

Why can’t men see what’s right in front of their noses? Colly wondered irritably. Randy had been maddening about it, always staring into the fridge, bellowing “There’s no mustard!” in a vaguely aggrieved and accusatory tone.

Colly glanced at Avery. “Let’s go. Hit it.”

Avery flicked a switch, and the siren wailed. From the back seat, Colly heard Satchel gasp with delight.

A short while later, they sped past the salvage yard and Digby’s Automotive, pulling to a stop behind Russ’s SUV, which was parked on the edge of the road near the fireworks stand.

“Wait in the car, Satchel.”

“It’ll be hot.”

“We can’t have you traipsing through the evidence. It’s just for a few minutes—we’ll leave the windows down. You can do your homework.”

Grumbling, Satchel stripped off his hat and sun-sleeves.

As Colly and Avery climbed out of the car, Russ emerged from behind the plywood stand, fanning himself with his Stetson.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said without prelude. “Walk that way.” He sketched a wide arc with his hat. “Don’t disturb the scene.”

Perplexed and trying not to think about rattlesnakes, Colly followed Avery through the tall grass. The ground behind the stand was more trampled than they’d left it. A small patch of freshly disturbed earth marked the spot where the cap had been.

“What the hell?” Avery blurted.

Colly’s mind was racing. “What time did you get here, Russ?”

“Ten to three.”

“Did you notice footprints?”

“Sure, but I assumed they were yours.” His voice was grim.

Colly squinted at the ground. “I’m not great at tracking.”

“Evidence team’s on the way.” Russ turned to Avery. “Get the camera—I want to see the pictures.” When she was out of earshot, he stepped closer to Colly. “Why the hell did you leave this unattended? I expected expertise from you, not amateur hour.”

The patch of skin between his eyebrows had flushed bright red, just as Randy’s used to when he was angry. But Colly was not feeling nostalgic. “Was I supposed to ditch Satchel at school?”

“You could’ve left Avery here.”

“Gee, Russ, if only I had your big man-brain, I might’ve thought of that. Your purple-headed gal pal wouldn’t let me take the damn car.”

Russ sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, okay. I’m just frustrated.”

“Whereas I’m having the time of my life.” Colly heard the car door slam, and she lowered her voice. “I’m here as a favor to the family, but Satchel comes first. He deserves that much. If you’re not happy with my work, I’ll gladly go home.”

“Okay, okay. I said I’m sorry.” Russ put on the Stetson.

“You said you’re frustrated. It’s not the same.”

Avery ran up, oblivious to the tension in the air, and handed Russ the camera.

“Does it look like Denny’s cap?” Colly hoped she sounded calm and professional.

Russ shaded the viewfinder with his hand as he scrolled through the photos. “Hard to tell. All the security footage from that day is black and white, but Brenda and the clinic receptionist both said the cap was red. I don’t see any logo on this one. That’s consistent.”

“Maybe his mother’ll know if it’s his,” Avery said.

“Worth checking.” Russ handed her the camera and wiped his forehead. “It’s too hot for March.” He sighed and looked around. “Who could’ve taken the damn thing?”

Just then, they were interrupted by a shrill scream. “Grandma!”

With a quick stab of anxiety, Colly ran to the cruiser. Satchel lay on his back on the car’s rear seat, an open textbook on his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Colly demanded.

He sat up. “I’m bored , Grandma.”

Colly swallowed her irritation. “Did you finish your homework?”

“The math’s different here. I don’t know how to do it.”

“Do what you can. I’ll help later.”

She kissed him quickly and returned to Russ and Avery. “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Wondering who took the cap.” Russ looked annoyed.

Colly frowned. “It was too rotted for someone to find it and think, Sweet, a new hat. Had to be an attempt to tamper with evidence.”

“Nobody knew about it but us,” Avery said.

“Unless someone saw you snooping around.” Russ shaded his eyes, looking up and down the road.

Colly sighed. “Let’s walk through it. We found the cap around two-fifteen, then I told Avery to get the camera and call you, Russ.” She turned to the younger woman. “Did you tell anyone else? I’m not accusing, just covering the bases.”

Avery bristled. “Only the chief.”

“I didn’t speak to a soul,” Colly said.

“You called someone about picking up your grandson.”

“Brenda? I didn’t mention the ballcap, or even where we were. You heard me.”

“I think we can clear Brenda.” Russ smiled. “I notified the evidence team, but that’s it.”

“You trust them?”

“Absolutely.”

“What about Tom Gunnell? He knew we were here. He can see this place from his shop.”

All three turned to stare down the road at Digby’s. “There’s a girl working the desk—she’d know if he left,” Avery said.

Colly nodded. “Let’s ask. Even if he didn’t take the cap, he might’ve seen someone.”

“I’ll do it,” Russ said. “It’ll make more of an impression coming from the police chief.”

He’s afraid I’ll screw it up , Colly thought. She didn’t blame him. His anger over the ballcap stung because she knew he was right. This was the Houston debacle all over again in miniature, though she didn’t know what else she could’ve done, in either case. Retiring had been the right call.

A piercing cry penetrated her gloomy reflections. “Grandma!”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Colly turned. Satchel had put on his hat and sun-sleeves and was standing on the car’s seat, his upper body out the window.

She walked to the car. “What’s the matter now?”

“I have to pee.”

Colly sighed. “Fine, c’mon.” She led him to the opposite side of the road. “Hurry, there’s no shade.”

Satchel chewed his lip. “I don’t want anyone to see.”

“They won’t. I’ll stand guard.”

When he had finished, Colly steered him back to the car.

“Grandma, I’m starving. When are we gonna go?”

“In a few minutes.”

“But I’m starving .”

Colly squeezed hand sanitizer onto his palms and was rummaging in her purse for some food when she heard the drone of an engine. A motorcycle was approaching, ridden by a stocky man in a fringed leather vest. Attached to the bike was an old-fashioned sidecar, in which sat an enormous, fawn-colored pit bull, its jowls flapping as it grinned into the wind.

Colly located a battered package of pretzels. “Here you go, bud. Be back soon,” she said, and hurried to rejoin the others.

The motorcycle stopped beside Russ’s SUV.

“About time.” Russ sounded relieved.

“Who’s this?” Colly asked.

Russ didn’t answer. He was striding towards the newcomer, waving. Colly followed. By the time they reached the bike, the rider had removed his helmet, and Colly was startled to see that he was, in fact, not a man but a burly middle-aged white woman with silvery braids and a sunburned face.

“Sorry it took me a while,” she said in a gravelly smoker’s voice. “Had to get Momma out of the tub and wait for the home-health gal to show up.”

“Glad you made it.”

Russ introduced her as Earla Cobb, forensics specialist for the county. Earla shook Colly’s hand enthusiastically, then whistled. “C’mon, fat boy.”

The pit bull leapt out of the sidecar and made a beeline for Colly, tail wagging. Like his owner, he was barrel-shaped and slightly bow-legged. Colly, who’d had many unpleasant run-ins with pit bulls in her career, watched him warily, but he seemed friendly.

She scratched the dog’s ears. “What’s his name?”

“I just said—Fat Boy.” Earla pulled an evidence kit from the rear of the sidecar. “We over there?”

She nodded towards the fireworks stand, then, before anyone answered, plunged through the grass towards Avery, who was still glowering at the ground where the cap had been.

Russ and Colly followed. “She’s your evidence team?” Colly whispered.

“Earla knows what she’s doing.”

When they reached the stand, Earla was already surveying the area, while several yards away, Fat Boy paced and whined.

Russ explained the situation. “We need to know who took that cap, Earla.”

She grunted, staring intently at the ground. “Lemme see y’all’s feet.”

She examined and measured their footwear, then donned a pair of nitrile gloves and began to crawl across the dirt. After ten minutes, she stood and removed the gloves with a snap.

“Ground’s a mess—this damn Johnson grass mucking things up, and footprints crisscrossing everywhere. But I’m confident there’s a fourth set that ain’t any of y’all’s. Gonna take a while to make sense of it, though. Get along, little dogies—Momma needs some alone time. Gotta think. And smoke.”

Russ hesitated, then shrugged. “I’ll send someone to cut back the vegetation. Give me a holler when you’re done.”

“Yes, indeedy.”

Back at the vehicles, Avery got into the squad car and slammed the driver’s door.

“What’s her problem?” Colly asked.

“Probably pissed about missing out on the action.” Russ’s eyes drifted to the stand, where Earla was unpacking her kit.

“Should we be leaving her here alone?” Colly said quietly. “What if whoever took the cap’s still around? Might be dangerous.”

“If they try to mess with Earla, God help ’em.” Russ chuckled. “She’s a black belt in karate. Besides, Fat Boy’s a sweetheart, but if anyone attacked her, he’d rip their throat out.”

“Unless they had a gun.”

“I’m going to run across to Digby’s and chat with Tom Gunnell. I can keep an eye on things from there.” He paused, scratching his jaw. “Want to come?”

Colly declined. She needed to get Satchel home.

Russ nodded and turned to go, but stopped. “Sorry about what I said earlier, Col. I appreciate your help—must’ve been tough as hell, coming here.”

He looked as pained as if he were trying to loosen a rusted fitting with a pipe wrench. Why did men find it so difficult to apologize? She had missed Randy terribly since his death but had not been sorry to leave behind some aspects of married life, and negotiating her way around the male ego was definitely one of them. Russ was sincere, though. That counted for a lot.

“Thanks, Russ. See you tonight.”