“So now you think Elliott the animal stuffer killed Olaf?” he asked. “Why would he do it?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “But it was strange how he stopped talking about Helen and then said he was sorry. Almost like he’d done something.”

“And it’s almost like you’ve lost your mind.”

I rolled my eyes and changed directions. “Want to know something else that’s weird? That Helen would tell me one thing, but everyone else says it was the other way around. That’s weird.”

He shoved more burger into his mouth. “Who’s Helen?”

“Were you even listening?”

He washed down the burger with more beer and then laughed. “Do I think it’s odd that his ex-wife lied? No, not really.”

“Why not?”

He wiped at his mouth again, twisted in his chair, and stretched out his legs. “I don’t know. Maybe she was embarrassed. Maybe she still loved him. Maybe she didn’t want people to know their marriage was failing.” He shrugged. “We’ve both been through that to a different degree, right? It’s not the easiest thing in the world to tell people that you’re getting divorced.”

He was right about that. As ready as I was to divorce Thornton, it was still a weird thing to admit to people. It felt like I’d been lying to my family and friends for years and I was suddenly coming clean. My unhappiness with my first marriage was private, not something I shared with the world. Most of my friends were surprised that we were getting a divorce. When it all happened and came to fruition, I was thrilled and felt free, but it still didn’t really feel like something to celebrate and share with other people.

I picked up another french fry and pointed it him. “Okay. Point taken. But how about her showing up at the library? Even if I chalk up her being at the plant as a coincidence, finding me at the library and lying to me about working there is totally weird, right?”

He finished the last bite of his burger and wiped his hands on his napkin. “Yeah, I’ll give you that. I don’t have an explanation for that.”

“So she’s lying about something,” I said, satisfied that I’d at least got him to admit I was right about something. “That is odd.”

Jake picked up his beer and begrudgingly nodded. “Yeah, hard for me to argue that.”

I smiled at him. “See? I’m not completely full of crap.”

He smiled back. “Not completely, no.”

I wadded up my napkin with the intent on throwing at him but stopped myself when I saw Detective Priscilla Hanborn making her way toward us.

Her blindingly white crew cut was standing at attention on top of her wide, flat head. She wore a long-sleeved, white dress shirt with a black bolo tie and gray denims jeans. Pointy black boots stuck out from the bottom of the jeans and instantly brought up visions of the Wicked Witch.

She tried to smile but it came off as more of a wince. “Evening, ma’am.” She looked at Jake. “Sir.”

Jake smiled at her. “Hello, Detective.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” she said, pulling up a chair from the table across from us and sitting down. “But I’m wondering if we could chat for just a minute?”

Jake raised an amused eyebrow at me.

“Sure,” I said, dragging out the word. It appeared to be the only thing I could say since she didn’t seem to be giving us any other choice.

She set her elbows on the table and folded her hands together. “I understand you’ve been doing a little…investigating around town.”

My cheeks warmed. “Investigating? I don’t know if I’d call it that.”

“What would you call it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, I just—”

She frowned at me. “Ma’am, I’m sure you’re curious about a lot of things. But you shouldn’t be running around Moose River, pretending to be a police officer. I went through a lot of training to learn how to do my job and I don’t remember seeing you in any of my training classes.”

Now my cheeks felt like they’d been lit on fire. “I haven’t been pretending to be anything.”

She raised an eyebrow and ran a hand over the top of her flat top. “Right. Look, I can imagine how you might be a little bored at home and how—”

“Now, wait a minute!”

“—it must be kind of fun to get out and play cops and robbers or whatever you’d like to call it,” she continued. “But getting in fights with people and going around and questioning everyone you meet is not a good idea. And I can’t have you getting in the way of my investigation.”

Jake leaned forward. “I don’t think anyone is getting in the way of your investigation.”

I could tell by his body language—shoulders up, brow furrowed, lack of a smile—that while he may have disagreed with what I’d been doing, he wasn’t terribly happy to have Detective Priscilla Hanborn interrupting our dinner and reprimanding me.

Which made me love him all the more.

“Not yet,” Hanborn said, shooting him a look. “But that’s the way we seem to be going and I’d like to put a stop to it.” She looked back at me. “Right now.”

“So, what exactly have you learned so far?” I asked, doing my best to not wrestle her to the ground like I had with Olga.

She looked down her nose at me. “That really isn’t any of your business.”

“It’s not? The body was in my house. I think it’s absolutely our business.”

“The crime committed wasn’t against you,” she said, shrugging. “Therefore you don’t really have a vested interest.”

“I have a vested interest because that man was found in my home,” I said, my voice firm. “And because everyone in town knows he was found there and it’s affecting my kids and my family. So don’t tell me it’s not any of my business.”

She gave me a hard stare, one I’m sure she saved for all of the dangerous criminals that she rounded up in Moose River on a daily basis. I managed to not wither and run away in fear.

“It’s an ongoing investigation,” she said. She tugged on her bolo tie, straightening it. “It’s none of your business.”

It was like someone told her what buttons of mine to push in order to irritate the hell out of me. She’d found the button and stuck her finger on it.

“I’m asking you to mind your own business and stop asking questions,” she said. “I’m the question-asker around here.”

I wanted to reach out and grab her little bolo tie and strangle her.

“We’re going to finish our dinner now, Detective,” Jake said. “If you’ll excuse us.”

She kept her eyes on me for an extra moment, then nodded. “Certainly.” She stood. “It appears my dinner date has arrived, anyway.”

Both Jake and I turned in the direction of the door. A beautiful blond woman was making her way toward us. Her hair fell nearly to her waist and she wore a tight-fitting black top and matching skirt that looked like it was painted on to her ridiculously fit body. She smiled at both Jake and me, then wrapped her arms around Detective Hanborn’s neck and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey, Pris,” she whispered.

“Belinda,” Detective Hanborn said, beaming. “Go grab us a table.”

“For sure.” She nodded and sauntered off.

I stole a quick glance at Jake. His mouth was wide open and I knew it wasn’t because the woman who’d just approached our table was a knock out. He was wondering the exact same thing I was.

Detective Hanborn cleared her throat. “You’ll forgive me for not introducing my sister.”

“Your sister?” Even I could hear the blatant disbelief in my tone. “Really?”

Detective Priscilla Hanborn cinched up her belt and gave me a disgusted look. “Who did you think it was?”

TWENTY EIGHT

“Of course I thought it was her lesbian lover,” I said to Jake as we drove home. “Who else would it have been?”

He turned the wheel and pulled the SUV into the dirt lot we called a driveway. “Her sister, for one.”

“You thought the same thing,” I reminded him.

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

But he was grinning and I just shook my head. “Sisters,” I snorted, shaking my head. “Because they looked so much alike. Please.”