“I don’t know. Look at everything that’s happened in the past two years.”

I could tell by the look on his face that I had him there. Not many people could say they’d found a dead body in their coal chute, another body in the woods, and a cache of stolen computers.

“Okay, but that’s spread out over a couple of years,” Jake said. “Look at all the days and weeks that have gone by where nothing has happened. Moose River’s weekly crime report usually consists of jaywalking, people running the stop sign by our house, and loitering outside the Laundromat.”

He was right. “I know.” I sighed. “And thank you.”

“For pointing out you’re wrong? That’s a first.”

“No.” I snuggled into him and pressed my cheek against his chest. His skin was warm and soft and I breathed in the scent of him. “For indulging me. For knowing I needed to get it all out of my head. For not making fun of me.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered into my ear.

“I think you think you’re gonna get lucky now,” I said, trying to fight off the smile that was forcing its way onto my lips. “Because you were all Mr. Sensitive and Mr. Good Listener. At least for most of the conversation.”

“I think I’m offended,” he said. “Um, but am I?”

I chuckled and got my arms around him, pressing a kiss on his jawline. “Turn off the light and I’ll think about it.”

TWENTY FOUR

I woke up with a plan.

Actually, I formed the plan in the middle of the night because my brain was in overdrive and I had a hard time sleeping. Talking about all of the possibilities with Jake had gotten the wheels turning and I couldn’t make them stop. I ended up getting out of bed before either he or Sophie were awake and drained an entire pot of coffee before they even stirred.

I knew they were planning on going for a run in the morning. Sophie had started to express an interest in running and Jake had begrudgingly acted like he was interested, too, just to feed her interest. I glanced out the living room window. The frost-kissed grass glittered in the morning sun and squirrels scrambled up and down trees, eager to find seeds and nuts to hide away before the inevitable: snow.  I smiled. I wasn’t sure how long Jake would be interested in running, especially with the temperature taking a nosedive, but I knew there was no way I was going to go running in sub-freezing temperatures unless someone was chasing me. I was happy to let them have a little daddy-daughter time.

By the time I was showered and dressed, Jake was just climbing out of bed, his hair firing in multiple directions, his eyes still swollen with sleep.

He rubbed at his eyes and squinted at me. “What are you doing?”

“I have a plan,” I said, pulling a sweater on over my T-shirt.

“A plan?”

He probably thought I meant I had a plan for breakfast. “Yes. But not like in TV or the movies, I promise. This one is actually sensible.”

“I thought you were gonna tell me you were making pancakes. And eggs. And bacon.”

I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him, tapping my foot.

He sighed. “Should I even ask?”

“You can.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and yawned. “Will it involve me having to bail you out of jail at any point today?”

“It will not,” I told him. “I promise.”

He stared at me. “You sound all reasonable and sensible. Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

“Stop,” I said. “I’m going to go talk to someone who can help with all of this.”

“All of what? Breakfast?” His expression turned hopeful. “You’re bringing in a chef?”

“You love my cooking and you know it.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’m talking about Amanda. Madison. All of that. And this person can probably help me with some questions about the licensing thingie.” I smiled at him. “See? It’s totally me.”

“I’m still suspicious,” he said. “And hungry.”

“Don’t be,” I told him. “There are bagels on the counter. And cereal. I’ll be back soon.” I headed for the door, then stopped and spun back around. “Enjoy your run with Sophie and try not to get hypothermia and die from the cold.”

He frowned. “Cold?”

I nodded. “Maybe leave the life insurance papers out before you go.”

He pointed at me. “There. There’s my wife.”

TWENTY FIVE

Detective Priscilla Hanborn folded her hands over her stomach and raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Ms. Savage. It’s been awhile. To what do I owe the...pleasure?”

I set the small pink box down on her desk. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and say hello.” I pointed at the box. “And bring you some breakfast.”

She eyed me with a hard stare for a long moment, then reached over and lifted the lid on the box. “Apple fritters?”

“And bear claws,” I said. “I wasn’t sure which you preferred so I had to guess.”

She let the lid fall on the box. “A bit clichéd bringing a police officer donuts, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” I said, reaching for the box. “I can certainly take them home—”

She reached out and snatched the box before I could touch it. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them.”

“Oh. Alright.” I waited expectantly.

She sighed. “Have a seat.”

I sat down on the other side of her desk. I’d first met Detective Hanborn when we’d discovered a dead body in the basement of our home while trying to unfreeze a frozen pipe. She’d immediately identified me as the prime suspect in the murder because I’d known the victim. Our relationship hadn’t gotten off to the best start. Even when she realized I had nothing to do with the murder and the actual culprit was arrested, she still hadn’t taken a great liking to me. Over the months, we occasionally saw each other around town. I usually waved and she usually pretended like she hadn’t seen me. But she was the head of law enforcement in Moose River and I couldn’t think of a better person to speak to about Amanda Pendleton.

She lifted the lid on the box again and pulled out one of the fritters. She pulled a napkin out of her top desk drawer and laid it flat on the desktop, then set the fritter on top of it. She broke off a tiny piece and popped it into her mouth. She was still a moment, like she was savoring it like it was a fine wine. “Good Egg, right?”

I nodded. Clearly, she was a donut connoisseur.

“Ted is always bringing in donuts from there,” she said, leaning back in the chair.

I wondered what other places he frequented. There weren’t any other donut shops in town, but the local groceries had bakery departments, and there was a funky, retro-looking donut shop across the river that we’d taken the kids to on a couple of occasions.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m actually here for two reasons,” I said, trying to get comfortable in the metal chair. “I assume you know about Amanda Pendleton.”

Her expression transitioned to one of impassiveness. “I do, yes.”

“And you’ve had no luck locating her yet?” I asked. “And to be clear. I’m not asking just to be nosy. I’m asking because my daughters were in the play with her and it’s just been kind of a mess since she disappeared.”

“That’s Eleanor Bandersand’s deal, right?” she asked. “The play?”

I assumed she had to know that, but I figured she was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not about why I was asking. “Yes. She’s the director and the owner of the theater company. They’re doing Snow White.”

“Right, right,” she said, nodding, chewing on her bottom lip. She ran a hand over her nearly white, spiked hair. “No, she has not been located as of yet.”

“My understanding is that this has happened before with her?” I said.

Hanborn’s mouth flattened into a tight line. “Ms. Savage. I really can’t discuss the particulars of the case with you. I understand you might have a somewhat related interest here, but that doesn’t mean I can tell you what’s going on.”