“He had a PhD in animal nutrition,” I said. “Do you consider his education evidence that he could have been researching cat food?”

“Who told you about his schooling?” Candace said. “I was with you the entire fifteen minutes we spent with the man, and I never heard him say anything about that.”

“I Googled him. He had a wife. Has she been notified?” I said.

“Ex-wife. And two sons. The ex is on the way from Denman, but I don’t know about the kids,” Candace said. “All’s I can say is, I sure hope the pathologist can get that grimace off the professor’s face before the woman is asked to give an official identification.”

“Did she sound upset?” I asked.

“Not so much, I have to say,” she said. “But she said she had no idea he was living here and that she needed directions. She mentioned she’d need several copies of the death certificate and asked about insurance. No, the ex-Mrs. Professor wasn’t too upset about anything but those nonhuman details.”

Tom said, “I’m stuck on this notebook. Where did it go? Jillian saw it and, what, an hour later the guy’s dead and the notebook’s gone?”

“That’s what I was talking about. Circumstantial evidence that makes me think this was a murder,” Candace said.

“Most whodunit cases are built on circumstantial evidence,” Tom said.

More cop talk, I thought. I sure wanted to hear about his cop days, as he’d told me very little before, but I needed to wrap my mind around the case at hand.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Here’s something I know that might be useful. There’s a difference between activists. The welfare types like Shawn and so many like him, and the fringe types that are more radical. More political. Maybe the notes will surface on the Internet if some group wanted to expose the professor’s actions. But if people interested primarily in animal welfare took those cats, my bet is, you won’t hear another thing. And those kinds wouldn’t hurt anyone. Period.”

Candace said, “Yes. Different kinds of activists. I’ve never met up with any of these folks, but if they carry strychnine around, I don’t want to get anywhere near them.”

“Welfare activists usually want to save animals from mistreatment, but the more militant types want humans to have no access to animals. Even as pets,” I said.

“That’s… almost impossible, I’d say,” Tom said. He looked at Candace. “I’m still hung up on my interruption thing. What if you were the one who interrupted what was going on at that farm?”

“You mean the folks who took the cats were on the property when I showed up?” she said. “How would they-” Her hand flew to her mouth, and between her fingers she whispered, “I sorta screamed when I saw the meat on that counter. They could have heard me.”

“But I was right outside, and I didn’t hear-” My stomach clenched as I remembered the man in the van, the one who had waved to me.

“I can tell by your face that you remember something,” Candace said.

“Before you came out of the house, a van drove by. It came from the opposite direction from the way we’d arrived.” I closed my eyes, trying to picture what I’d seen. “The driver even waved at me.”

“This is big,” Candace said. “Can you describe this van?”

“White panel,” I said. “Is there ever a crime committed without a white panel van involved?”

“Did you see the driver?” Tom said.

“A man. Maybe. Gosh, I was so worried about the cats, I didn’t pay much attention,” I said.

“Don’t think too hard,” Tom said. “You’ve had a demanding day, and when you’re more relaxed, details might come flooding back.”

“And if they do, you call me right away,” Candace said. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning. See, this fits, Jillian.

When I was out at the farm this morning, I confirmed what I thought I saw last night. The grass was pretty trampled around the outside of that chain- link fence, probably by whoever took those cats. It looked to me like they’d cut a path to the empty property next door.”

“Did you find anything over there?” I asked.

“Nope. And county records show the place has been empty a long time. I looked in the windows. No sign of anything amiss except that trampled grass,” she said. “Not even a stick of furniture inside that I could tell.”

“Not much cause for a search warrant if there’s no homicide ruling,” Tom said.

“You see why I’m a cranky-pants today?” she said. “Frustrating as hell that Lydia ’s dragging her feet about getting a pathologist.” Candace lowered her head.

But her head snapped back up when a man came up behind her. “Let me help you out, then,” he said. “You need relaxing, I’m your guy.”

Tom stood and put out his hand. “Why, Darryl Tillson. Didn’t I just see you, fella?”

The two exchanged happy greetings while Candace gave me an eye roll. Darryl owned the local feed store and had been trying to date Candace for the last six months.

I had to agree with her decision not to jump at the chance, though. The man often smelled of manure, which would not top my list of characteristics for potential suitors. But in truth, I didn’t know him well enough to judge.

Tom said, “I put security cameras at Tillson Cattle and Feed last week.”

“Going high-tech on us, Darryl?” I said.

“Gotta keep up with the times, but I think my daddy might be rolling over in his grave at the thought that I even need them,” he said.

Candace kept her face down, her head supported by fists at her temples. “When you’re being robbed blind, you do what you gotta do,” she said.

“Candace, here, investigated the feed thefts. She’s a smart cop for a girl. She’s the one recommended you, Tom.” Then Darryl caught sight of me for probably the first time. Candace was his priority, after all. “And, Miss Hart. How’s the cat family? They like that new kibble I persuaded you to buy?”

“They love it,” I lied. I knew Darryl’s intentions were good, but in truth, Chablis refused to eat even one piece and moped the entire day. Syrah almost hissed at the dish, and Merlot walked off after one sniff. The next day I’d tossed out the bag and went back to their old standby. “But you do have to rotate with cats. Picky eaters. Next time I’m in, I might try something different.”

“Y’all was talking it up, and I interrupted,” Darryl said. “But I had to stop and say hey. See you all at the store.” He walked around our table and into Belle’s Beans.

As soon as he was gone, Candace stood. “I do not want to be here when he comes back out. Besides, I have to call Morris about that van.” She pointed at me. “You will phone me if you remember anything else?”

“Of course.” I came around the table and hugged her good-bye before she took off.

Tom and I talked for a few more minutes, and then I said, “I’m pretty tired myself. Mind taking me home?”

We walked back to the Main Street Diner, where we’d parked, and during the five- minute ride back to my place, we didn’t speak.

I was thinking hard, though.

When he pulled up behind Kara’s car, he turned off the ignition and said, “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“You’re kicking yourself for not remembering that van right away, for not paying attention.”

I looked sideways at him. “Am I that transparent?”

He smiled. “You’re getting to be. As hard as you’re trying to stop me, I am actually getting to know you.” And with that he leaned over and kissed me. A soft, gentle kiss on the mouth.