“Yes, I realize that,” Candy said contritely, “but I just wanted to help. Ray’s our friend. I knew he couldn’t have killed Sapphire Vine.”

“Well, you did the right thing in calling us right away. This does shed some new light on the situation.” The chief looked over as one of his sergeants walked past with the evidence bags. Then his gaze shot back to Candy.

“We’ll take a look at what we’ve got and reassess the case.” He leveled a finger at her. “But I’ll have no more interference from you, ya hear? Your investigating days are over, right?”

“Um, yes, Chief Durr.”

He held her gaze for a few moments, trying to intimidate her with his stare, then turned away. “Well, all right then. I’ll let you off the hook this time. Besides, I’ve got more important things to do than lecture you. Seems like all hell is breaking loose in this town.” He shook his head and frowned. “We’ve got your statement, so you can head back home. We’ll call you if I need anything else.”

“What about Ray?” Doc asked. “He can go free now, right?”

Chief Durr shook his head. “That’s up to a judge to decide. He’ll hear the evidence in the morning, or maybe this afternoon if we can hook up with him. Can’t make any promises, though.”

“But you have the evidence right there that he didn’t do it,” Candy persisted. “It was Ned Winetrop’s hammer that killed Sapphire-not Ray’s. He deserves to be let go.”

“Well, now, we have to go by the book on this one. Got a lot of people watching how we handle this thing. We’re not a bunch of hicks, you know. We’ve got procedures to follow.”

“You gonna pick up Ned Winetrop?” Doc asked.

Chief Durr scratched the back of his head and scowled. “You know I can’t comment on that officially, Doc… but unofficially, sure, we’ll pick him up and bring him down to the station for questioning. That’s all you’ll get out of me today, though. You folks head back home now. There’s nothing else to do, and I’m in no mood to be quizzed anymore on our procedures.”

Candy hesitated. She wanted to say more, to know more. But Doc, sensing Chief Durr’s building annoyance and his daughter’s exasperating stubbornness, put his arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Sherlock,” he said, steering her away from the police chief. “You’ve done all you can do here. Let’s go home.”

TWENTY-NINE

It was well past four-thirty by the time they arrived back at Blueberry Acres. The sun that had been so bright that morning had disappeared behind a shield of low clouds blowing in from the west, pushed across the sky by a strong wind. Doc pulled up in front of the barn but left the truck idling. Candy started to climb out, then hesitated. “You’re not staying?” she asked in surprise.

Doc gave her that look he gave her so often these days, the one that told her he just couldn’t sit still right now. “I think I’m going to run over to the police station, see what I can find out about Ray. Maybe I can speed up the process to spring him.”

“But Dad, he’s not even there. He’s up in Machias, and so is the judge. These things take time.”

Doc shrugged impatiently. “I got to do something. Can’t just sit around here waiting.” He pulled the gear shift into reverse and revved the engine. “Want to come along?”

Candy didn’t have to think long before she gave him an answer. “No thanks. I’ve done enough of the Cagney and Lacey bit this week. It’s time for a break. I’m going to check on the girls, grab a glass of wine, and sit for a while.”

Doc nodded. “I shouldn’t be too long. Tell you what. I’ll swing back by to pick you up, and we can head to Duffy’s for dinner. It’s Thursday-you know what that means.”

“Duffy’s world-famous meatloaf special?”

Doc grinned. “Dripping in gravy with smashed potatoes and buttered peas. It’s a hard deal to pass up. What do you say?”

“Mmm, mmm.” Candy stepped back and swung shut the cab door. “My mouth is watering already.”

He laughed. “I knew I could tempt you. See you in forty-five minutes or so.”

Candy gave him a wave as she headed around the barn to the chicken coop. The girls were clucking away, happy and guileless as ever, scratching at the earth and poking around their coop. She fed and watered them, then checked to see if there were any other signs of forced entry-paw prints in the dirt around the exterior, dug-up earth, any place some predator might be trying to widen a gap in the cage with a sniffing nose or a clawing paw. But there was no evidence to be seen. The critter that had come around a few nights earlier hadn’t made another appearance-but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be back. With the blueberries ripe in the fields, animals came from all over to partake of a free meal. Birds were the worst culprits, of course-some days it looked like a feathered convention out there in the barrens-but deer also frequented the fields in the early mornings, and even a stray bear might wander out among the bushes at this time of year.

Candy made a mental note to keep Doc’s shotgun close by the back door.

She took a cursory walking tour of the property, just to check on things, then angled toward the house. Her mind wandering off on a myriad of different things, she climbed the steps onto the back porch, reached in her pocket for the house key-and froze.

Shards of glass littered the back porch near the door.

Her eyes jerked up.

One of the window panes in the door was broken, and the door itself was ajar.

Candy took a step back, forcing herself to stay calm as her heart thumped in her chest. She cast a look behind her, wishing Doc hadn’t left so quickly. But he was gone. She was alone.

Whatever was going on here, she would have to handle it herself.

She knew the smartest move would probably be to jump right into the Jeep and get the hell out of here. But this was her house, and Doc’s-she wasn’t about to abandon it to some wayward thief.

She took a few steps forward, avoiding the glass on the porch, and looked in through the door window. From here, she could see no one in the kitchen, no movement, no shadows that shouldn’t be there.

The place looked empty, but someone could still be here, in another part of the house.

She listened for a moment, holding her breath.

No stray footsteps, creaking floorboards, door hinges squeaking, heavy breathing-nothing to indicate that the person who had broken the window was still around.

Moving quickly and quietly, she pushed open the door, tiptoed to the kitchen closet, yanked it open, and pulled out Doc’s shotgun. Her eyes constantly scanning, on the lookout for a hostile intruder, she crossed to the junk drawer, pulled it open, and reached way in the back, her fingers groping for a box of cartridges. She grabbed half a dozen and pushed two into the gun’s magazine.

She pumped the action, thumbed off the safety, and tucked the butt into her shoulder, her finger resting lightly on the trigger guard.

She moved forward purposefully then, stepping first into the living room, turning a complete circle, searching everywhere at once, eyeing along the gun’s sights. Next, she went into Doc’s den at the back of the house. She searched quickly and thoroughly. Then on to the dining room, the downstairs bathroom, and the laundry room, working her way back to the kitchen.

Nothing.

She paused and listened again for any unfamiliar or revealing sound. But again, nothing.

Tucking the butt of the weapon deeper into her shoulder, lining up along the sights, she moved upstairs as carefully and quietly as possible. Naturally several of the steps creaked under her sneakers, but that couldn’t be helped.

Still, if anyone was up there waiting for her, they would know she was coming.

Adrenaline rushed through her body, her ears roared, her breathing sounded monstrously loud. But she ignored all those things. When she reached the top of the stairs, she moved efficiently, starting with the room to her left-a guest room. She checked the closet, under the bed, in the back corner behind the bureau.