“What about Cal?”

“ Cal?” An edge came into Bernadette’s voice at mention of her ex-husband. “Why would he know anything?”

Mackenzie gave Rook a sideways glance, but he remained impassive. She turned back to Bernadette, shrugging. “No reason.”

“I hardly ever see him anymore, although he’s still living here.” She added quickly, “He has the downstairs guest suite.”

Mackenzie had stayed there often enough herself on her visits to Washington over the years. Bernadette had always been a welcoming hostess, although less so after her marriage to Cal Benton. Mackenzie wasn’t sure if he didn’t like company or didn’t like her; perhaps he’d just sensed she didn’t like him.

“When’s he moving out?” she asked bluntly.

Bernadette seemed to take no offense. “This weekend. When I get back from New Hampshire in September, he’ll be out of my life for good.”

“Did you talk to him about the attacks in New Hampshire?”

“Of course. He suggested your assailant could be someone I’ve helped out at some point.”

“One of your ‘three-legged puppies’? Isn’t that his phrase?”

Mackenzie’s cool tone drew a glance from Rook, but he didn’t comment. Cal, who hadn’t known her as a child, nonetheless had made it clear he considered her one of his wife’s “three-legged puppies.”

“ Cal doesn’t realize how offensive he is sometimes,” Bernadette said. “I think it’s just his way of trying to be funny. He doesn’t recognize this man, from the sketch or the description, either. The police seem to think he’s a deranged drifter, and I tend to agree. Maybe you just saw him buying something at Gus’s store one day.” She gave Mackenzie a pained look. “Or an assault knife.”

“Gus doesn’t carry that kind of knife at the store.”

“I didn’t mean that literally.” Bernadette rose, kicking off her flats and standing in her stocking feet. “I can see you’re tired. I wish I knew something that could help you find this man.”

“The police aren’t giving up yet,” Mackenzie said. “Are you okay here? I don’t want to scare you, but the man was on your property.”

“Your marshal friends swing by from time to time. I hate having anyone at my elbow day and night. In any case, you’re the one who was knifed, even if it was on my property. Do you have round-the-clock protection?”

Mackenzie almost smiled. “I’m not a federal judge who can’t shoot.”

“I hate guns. Your point’s well taken, but I’m not worried.”

Mackenzie wanted to ask her about Harris Mayer but resisted because of the FBI agent standing in the doorway. Let Rook ask if he wanted to. She didn’t have enough information, but if she barreled her way into an ongoing investigation, she would be back in Cold Ridge and out of the USMS before she got a scratch on her badge. Even Nate Winter wouldn’t be able to help her.

Bernadette walked past Rook and into the hall. Mackenzie noticed how closely he was observing the judge, but he continued to maintain his silence. She followed Bernadette, brushing by him. “Where’s Cal now?”

“I have no idea.” Bernadette’s mouth tightened as if she was trying to hold back unwanted emotion. “Why all your questions?”

“Just making conversation.” But that wasn’t entirely true, and Mackenzie wondered if both the federal judge in front of her and the FBI agent behind her realized she was holding back. Yet blurting what she knew about Cal Benton and his final affront to his wife and their marriage would do no one any good. Mackenzie said carefully, “ Cal will miss the lake, don’t you think?”

“If he had his way, he’d cut up the land into lakefront lots and tear down the house and build a new one. He says it’s only a step above camping.”

“When was he in New Hampshire last?”

Rook said something under his breath, and Mackenzie realized she’d pushed too hard. Bernadette reached the side door off the kitchen and spun around, arms crossed on her chest. “Mackenzie, I’m a judge. Before I was a judge, I was a prosecutor. I know when I’m being grilled. I’ll make allowances because of the circumstances, but otherwise, enough with the questions.”

“Sorry. Long day. Enjoy the lake. It was beautiful there this past weekend.”

Bernadette smiled wistfully, her irritation fading quickly. “It always is. I didn’t let what happened to your father stop me from appreciating it. I won’t let what happened to you stop me.” She gasped, obviously horrified by her own words. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it to. Not at all. Mackenzie, I’m sorry. I’m not unfeeling.”

“I know, Beanie. Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

“I don’t know anything about the man who attacked you. Neither does Cal. He takes care of himself. I know he does. From what I’ve learned about him these past three years, he always has. And he’s very good at it.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

Her pale green eyes leveled on Mackenzie. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

“I only have questions, Beanie. No answers.”

She didn’t respond right away. “I know the feeling,” she said finally. She opened the door, the hot night air immediately oozing into the cool interior. “Special Agent Rook, it’s good to meet you.”

“Likewise, Judge Peacham.”

“You’re very disciplined, keeping your mouth shut all this time.”

He smiled at her. “Good night, Judge.”

Mackenzie started to speak, but Bernadette held up a hand. “I’ve kept you long enough. Take care of yourself. Thank you for stopping by.”

“Always good to see you, Beanie.”

Rook’s car was still relatively cool when Mackenzie returned to her seat, but she could feel fatigue gnawing at her – and his gaze on her, probing, as if she’d tried to hide something from him, too.

“Where’d she get the nickname Beanie?” he asked, starting the car.

“I think Gus gave it to her in first grade, and it stuck.”

“But she’s beloved? She’s known for her kindness and generosity?”

“That doesn’t mean she’s a pushover. She’s smart, and she’s dedicated to her work as a judge.”

“No kids?”

Mackenzie shook her head. “She was married for a few years after law school, but it didn’t work out. No kids.”

“Just you,” he said.

“I have a mother. Beanie knows that. People might say I got lost in the shuffle after my father was injured, but we all cared about each other. That was never a question. And everything turned out all right.”

“How did Judge Peacham help you?”

“She kept Gus from hanging me by my thumbs, for starters. Mostly, she let me into her library and let me use her house as a refuge. I never went into the shed, though. I’d sit on the porch and read – just that break from the difficulties at home made a difference. My father didn’t need me underfoot when he was in such pain.”

“Tough times.”

“People have faced worse.”

Rook was silent a moment. “We’re not talking about what other people faced.”

Mackenzie decided to change the subject. She didn’t want Rook picturing her as a lonely, troubled eleven-year-old. “Anything new on Harris Mayer?”

“He hasn’t turned up yet.”

“Are you actively looking for him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She let Rook drive a couple miles without pressing him further, hoping he might take the initiative and elaborate. But he didn’t. Finally, she gave him a sideways look. “Talking to you is like getting blood out of a stone sometimes.”

“Only when you ask about matters that are outside your area of concern.”

“I should expect to get shut down. Got it, Rook. Nate Winter gave me the same lecture.”

“Smart man.”

When they arrived at her borrowed quarters, Rook didn’t ask if she needed help, he just climbed out of the car and opened the back door before she’d gotten her seat belt unhooked. He grabbed her backpack and walked to the porch, the heat apparently having no effect on him.

Mackenzie joined him, feeling drained. Before she’d left New Hampshire, she’d retraced her assailant’s path through the woods and up to the road above the lake, not so much looking for clues the search teams had missed but hoping for something – anything – that jogged her memory. She’d probably pushed herself a bit too far.