The distinguished-looking man nodded.

“You’ll be talking to me. I may not look the part, but I’m Deputy Candace Carson.” She pointed to the badge she’d pinned on her jeans waistband. “As for your sons, Mrs. VanKleet, we’ll be interviewing them when we’re done with you two.”

I took notice of the young men, who both looked to be in their early twenties, having paid little attention to them over at Belle’s. One had wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes; the other had shaggy dirty blond hair and green-gray eyes. The only trait they seemed to share was their height. Both were over six feet and lanky. The professor had been a small man, but Sarah VanKleet was at least five foot ten, so they must have gotten their height from her.

Sarah VanKleet scowled. “Why can’t we all talk to the chief of police together?”

“That’s not how we do things,” Candace said. “B.J., please take Mrs. VanKleet to the chief’s office. Professor? Follow me.” She turned and started down the hall, leaving Sarah sputtering in protest.

B.J. stood and smiled at Sarah VanKleet, but her mood didn’t improve. She ignored him and looked at her sons. “I’m sorry about this, but it seems you’ll have to wait here.” She glanced around. “In this place.”

The blond one spoke. “What about the death certificates? Don’t we need those to get Dad’s affairs in order? He’s probably left us a mess.”

She raised her eyebrows and offered him a “You better shut up” look.

The other son said, “Later, Evan.”

Mrs. VanKleet smiled and said, “Thank you, Brandt.” Then she followed B.J. down the hall.

I smiled at Brandt. “Hi. I’m Jillian Hart. I sort of volunteer around here.” Baca said it, not me, I thought. I looked at the other young man. “Hi, Evan.”

“Hey, what’s happening?” He offered a straight arm and a fist, and we bumped knuckles.

“You guys want a Coke or something?” I said.

“Yeah, sure,” Evan said.

B.J. came back around his desk, and I said, “You got money for the machine?”

“Oh. Sure.” He opened a drawer and gathered several coins. But it wasn’t enough.

“For all three of us,” I said. I’d dropped by here enough to know that unless you were being arrested, you got free Coke.

“Sorry. Right. Um, thanks, Jillian,” he said.

“This way, guys,” I said to the VanKleets.

I led them out of the office and down the hall to the vending machines. We passed Margie, the baby and the husband, who must just have been released from the basement jail. He didn’t have a black eye or a swollen face. And he looked smug. I hated that.

Once Evan and I had our drinks-Brandt refused-we went back inside the office. There was more space to sit out in the corridor, but the smell of vomit was particularly strong today.

B.J. found two folding chairs for the sons, and I reclaimed the wood chair. I decided to play dumb. “You must be visiting Mercy on upsetting business,” I said.

“I saw you looking at us in that coffee place,” Brandt said. “And I’ll venture you know exactly why we’re here.”

“I didn’t say otherwise. I’m only trying to be friendly,” I said.

“We’re not feeling very friendly,” Brandt said.

“Speak for yourself, brother,” Evan said. He swigged his Coke. “I like friendly, and you seem nice enough. So here’s the deal if you haven’t heard. Our father got himself killed.”

“Shut up, Evan. Remember what I told you,” Brandt said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, the law student speaks. Mea culpa.” Evan looked at me. “Please make me shut up, Ms. Hart. Or read me my rights. Brandt can help you with those words, since I’m sure he’s memorized them.”

“Evan.” Brandt spoke that one small name with so much contempt, I felt sorry for his brother.

“You don’t have to talk,” I said. “I know this is a rough time.”

Evan laughed. “Rough time? This is easy compared to everything that’s happened before. Except the mother unit latched on to another professor. Must be some kind of fatal attraction.”

Brandt looked ready to drag his brother out of here before he said anything else, but all this family drama came to a halt when Kara walked in the door.

Oh boy, can she stop traffic, I thought.

“Hi, Jillian,” Kara said. “Thought I’d walk down here and see what’s going on. Interesting old building.”

B.J. stood, his cheeks as rosy as two ripe peaches. “Can I help you?”

She flashed her charming smile and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Jillian’s my stepmother.”

B.J.’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Are we like a circus act that you all couldn’t get enough of in the coffeehouse?” Brandt said.

But Kara turned that smile on him, and the tense atmosphere in the room seemed to float away. “Strangers in Mercy are probably treated that way all the time,” she said. “I’m so sorry you feel like some sort of spectacle.”

“It’s not that,” Brandt said, his attitude melting by the second. “This has been a difficult time for our family.”

“You want to get coffee and talk about it when you’re done here?” Kara said.

There are some things a forty- two-year-old woman cannot accomplish that a twenty- nine-year-old one can. Especially one who looked like Kara.

Brandt stood and offered Kara his seat.

She took it and then looked up at Brandt, her smile still shining.

He reached into his creased chinos pocket and produced what looked like a phone similar to Kara’s. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you when we’re done here.”

While this was going on, Evan leaned toward me and said, “The pretty boy gets all the action.”

I smiled. “You said he’s a law student. Are you in college, too?”

“Not right now. I’ll be heading back in the fall. If Mommy can get the boyfriend to help her with the finances, that is. There’s been a cash- flow problem ever since my now-deceased father got fired.”

“Evan,” Brandt said. “Keep quiet. Please?” Not as much disdain in his voice this time, but I was guessing that was so Brandt didn’t seem like such an ass in Kara’s presence.

“That would be no, Brandt. I’m not inclined to keep quiet just because you think I should.” Evan turned his chair, holding the Coke can between his knees. “While they bond, why don’t we? I like you, Ms. Hart. What are you doing here?”

“The officer who’s interviewing Professor Lieber is a good friend. We were together when she got the call to come in and help out. There’s an officer out sick.” A small lie about being called in, but Evan had already spilled plenty and I had the feeling there was more. Candace would want me to take advantage.

“So you’re friends with Deputy Candace Carson? She’s pretty darn hot for a cop. Think you can make sure she’s my interviewer rather than me having to endure some stuffy police chief?”

I laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have a say in that.”

He brushed hair off his forehead and smiled. Beneath the facade, I got the sense this was a nice kid who didn’t know quite how to respond to murder. Who would?

“Had to try and see if she’d be the one I could talk to.” He gulped down the rest of his Coke and tossed the can in the wastebasket near B.J.’s desk.

B.J. was on the radio again, that piece of paper with the police codes in his hand. He was determined to use those codes no matter what.

The Sprite I’d bought wasn’t sitting well after that latte I’d consumed earlier. I stood and put my mostly full can in the trash, too, and slid the change meant for Brandt’s drink onto B.J.’s desk.

Kara and Brandt were deep in conversation, but Candace’s appearance with the boyfriend interrupted them. The look on Candace’s face when she saw Kara said it all, but she immediately put her thoughts into words. “What are you doing here?”

Brandt said, “This is a public building. That means she has every right to be here.”

Showing off his law-school learning for a pretty girl. Guys like to impress, no matter how old they are.