“We are, Bernie. I need to check a couple of things first. Go have your lunch and meet me back here at one.”

As he entered the outer office, Thea waylaid him, holding out a sheet of paper. “Chief, the lab in Toronto just faxed this over.”

He took the paper. “Already? They generally take months to get back to us.”

“We sent three samples scraped from the bottom of the locker. They must have a plant enthusiast, because a technician analyzed one right away and saw the granules in the sample. Anyway, you’ll find this interesting.”

Neil looked at the results. “Roses? There were rose petals in the bottom of the locker?”

“Red rose petals.”

He didn’t get it at first. It took a second. To confirm, he pulled out his cell and pressed number two for Cornwall. Number one was his mother. He should reverse that order first chance he got.

She answered on the third ring. “What? I’m kind of busy looking for a new boyfriend.”

A sharp pain pierced Neil’s right eye. Was he too young to have a stroke? “We’ll talk later, Cornwall, okay? Right now, one question. Did you grad girls carry bouquets of red roses?”

Silence, not even the sound of breathing. He figured she had hung up on him. Then, “Yes, we did. And the guys had rose boutonnieres. Red rose boutonnieres. Why?”

“Thanks. See you later.”

Lavinia tugged at his arm. “The OPP investigator is in your office. He got here about a half-hour ago, so I gave him coffee and let him sit in there. Here’s a cup for you. And I’ve ordered a couple of lunch specials from the Mason Jar. I’ll bring them in shortly.”

“Thanks, Lavinia. What would I do without you?”

“You’d starve.” She winked at him and bustled over to her desk to silence the strident ringing of the phone.

Small towns couldn’t afford to keep officers accredited in homicide investigation on payroll. Instead, they called in external expertise when needed. Neil took a deep breath and counselled himself to be polite to whichever OPP know-it-all sat in his visitor’s chair. Balancing his coffee cup and the lab report in one hand, he shoved his office door open.

The know-it-all was in Neil’s chair, boots on his desktop. As Neil closed the door behind him, the officer leaned back and tossed his cap with the distinctive blue band onto the desk beside his boots. The black eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked at Neil.

“Get out of my chair, you bastard.”

The man waved a limp-wristed hand. “Love your hat.” He rocked back and forth a few times on the chair, then stood up. His muscular frame was wider than Neil’s, but he was an inch shorter.

Neil threw his flapped hat at the top rung of the coat stand in the corner, where it landed and, with the precision of long practice, stayed put. “You’ll be wishing you had one after a few hours in this town. I see you got a haircut. They must have pulled you off undercover. Permanently?”

“They gave me a choice. Come in from the dark side or hand in my badge. Since I only have twelve years to go before I can take my fuck-all pension and make some real money in private security, I came back to the fold.” He ran both hands through his black hair, longer on top than regulation but buzzed short at the sides. “Did you negotiate your Toronto pension into your chief’s job?”

“I did all right. What are you doing on the travelling team, Tony? Are they still trying to keep you away from the female constables at headquarters?”

“I’ve turned over a new leaf. I asked for this assignment. As soon as I heard there was a possible murder in Lockport, I signed up to solve the crime for my buddy.” He punched Neil in the shoulder.

Neil punched him back. “I’m guessing they booted you out of the Drug Enforcement Section, and you were in such a snit, you signed up for investigative liaison duty.”

“Something like that. Jerks. They forgot what went down in this town last summer or they never would have let me come back.”

“They needn’t worry. You don’t look anything like Snake, the outlaw biker. Even if there was anybody left in Hemp Hollow from that drug ring, they wouldn’t recognize you.” He thought for a minute. “Although Cornwall and Rae Zaborski will make you right off. Guess that doesn’t matter.”

“Miss Bliss? How is she? You and she tight? Cute as a little bug, that one.”

“She’s fine, better than ever. Where are you staying?”

“They booked me into the Super 8. The best place in town, I was told. Say, are you still riding that girly Gold Wing?”

“I won’t be riding anything for another four or five months. But yes, I still have my Gold Wing, and I’m not trading it in for a Harley.”

Neil opened his door and called Thea over. “Get hold of Fang Davidson, would you? Ask him to come in this afternoon … as soon as possible.” He was curious about Dogtown, after all he’d heard about inbreeding and moonshining, but he needed to brief Tony on the skeleton and Sophie Quantz.

Tony’s eyes lingered on the door. “Nice. Who is she? Is she seeing anybody?”

“Yes, she is. Eyes front and take a seat, Tony. It’ll take a few minutes to go over the crime scene reports. Both scenes.” He took his own chair and waited while Tony pulled the straight-backed visitor chair over to the desk.

“Both? As in plural? I thought there was only one body. Sophie Quint.”

“Sophie Quantz. I guess they didn’t tell you. The day before Sophie died, we found the skeletal remains of a young woman in a locker in an abandoned high school. We think she’s been there fifteen years.”

Tony’s eyes brightened. “You think the deaths are related?”

“Yeah, we do.”

It took Neil an hour to bring Tony up to speed. Halfway through, Lavinia brought in their lunches.

Tony set his empty Greek salad container aside and closed his fingers over the last of the sweet potato fries. “What is this stuff anyway? It doesn’t taste bad but not as good as regular fries. Is Lavinia trying to date you or mother you?”

“She doesn’t think I eat properly, I guess. She’s always stuffing me with salads.”

“Doesn’t Miss Bliss feed you well?”

Neil snorted. “Hah. Cooking is not one of Cornwall’s interests. Or skills.”

“Fascinating. That you still call her by her last name, I mean. Anyway, to recap the deaths. You think the skeleton is Faith Davidson, who never left the high school after a graduation party. The school was boarded up shortly after. Sophie Quantz was part of the same class and she died less than twenty-four hours after the discovery of Faith’s remains. That about cover it?”

“Exactly. The local mayor, Mike Bains, was one of the graduates, as was the manager of our local Canadian Tire store, Charles Leeds. And Faith’s twin brother, Rupert, or Fang as he is affectionately known in these parts.”

When Tony opened his mouth, Neil said, “Wait. That’s not all. The rest of the class is scattered all over the globe. We’ll interview the locals. But there’s one more little grad who can’t remember much of that night because she was trashed. Guess who?”

“Not Miss Bliss?”

“You got it. And she plans to help us whether we want her to or not.”

“She’s lived here all her life, hasn’t she? She’ll be a good source of background intel.”

“Remember last summer, Tony? She was in the middle of everything and nearly got herself killed.”

“Come on, man. Miss Bliss is clever, as well as easy on the eyes, so I think we should let her …”

“I hate to admit it, Tony, but she came up with something I hadn’t even thought of. Faith’s suitcase. She planned to take the bus directly back to Toronto after the party at the school. So where was her suitcase?”

“I’ll bite. Where was it?”

“We found the suitcase against the back wall of the gym, under a tiered bench. The bag was too long to fit into a locker in the change room, so Faith must have stashed it in the gym herself. We missed it first time around. We’ll show it to the family, see if they can identify the contents. But I don’t think there’s any doubt they belonged to Faith.”