They were all here now, her neighbors, gathering as soon as they’d heard there was trouble. She had no doubt that, had they known in time, they’d have faced down Mellor and Huxley with whatever weapons they had at hand. After knowing these people for three years, she felt as if she was for the first time actually seeing them. Right now Roy Edward had sat down and was taking things out of” his pocket to show Tanner, trying to entice him into talking. Her dealings with Roy Edward before had made her think he was crotchety and impatient, but he seemed to be connecting because Tanner had taken his finger out of his mouth and was leaning close, interest written on his face as he examined a pocketknife and a buckeye.

Milly came over to pat Cate’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind my taking over your kitchen, I’ll brew a little tea for you and Neenah. Tea’s more the thing than coffee when you’re upset. Don’t know why, but there it is.”

“I’d love some tea,” Cate said, dredging up another smile, though she really didn’t want any tea. She and Neenah had been drinking tea when Mellor had come into the kitchen and pointed his gun at them. She suspected Milly felt the need to do something, and cooking was her chosen arena. Neenah had heard Milly’s offer; Cate glanced across the room and their gazes met. Neenah made a little grimace, then looked rueful. She felt the same way as Cate about drinking tea again just now.

Rather than put the call off, and also because she wanted to be able to tell everyone gathered there what Seth Marbury said, Cate slipped away to the family den and called the sheriff’s department one more time. He didn’t answer the phone, so she left a voice mail message, then leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, using the relative peace and quiet of the room to steady her frayed nerves. She could hear the rise and fall of voices in the dining room, sometimes sharp with anger on their behalf, but for the most part the discussions had calmed down.

The phone rang before she could gather the strength to return, and it was Marbury returning her call.

“I’m not certain I understood exactly what you said.” His tone was crisp and alert, which made her think he’d understood, but wasn’t certain he believed.

“Two men checked in today,” she explained, “then came downstairs a short while later and held a pistol on Neenah Dase and me, demanding I give them the things Jeffrey Layton left behind. I did, and they left. I think it’s safe to say Mr. Layton was up to no good, and neither were these two men.”

“What were their names?” Marbury asked.

“Mellor and Huxley.”

“First names?”

“Let’s see.” She got up to go into the hall and get her guest book, and hesitated when she saw Calvin Harris standing just inside the room, listening to her side of the conversation. He had a vested interest, so she waved him farther into the room as she fetched the guest book and brought it into the den.

“They’re listed as Harold Mellor and Lionel Huxley.

“How did they pay?”

“The man who called yesterday afternoon and made the reservations for them gave me a credit card number. I think it was the same man who called pretending to be from the rental car agency. I can’t be certain, but I think the voice was the same. And the Caller ID said Unknown Name, Unknown Number both times.

“What’s the name on the credit card?”

“The name he gave me was Harold Mellor, hi it I know it wasn’t the same man who was here today; their voices were completely different.”

“Have you run the charge through yet?”

“Yes, and it went through.”

“It could still be a fake card. That’s something we can check, though. Did you get their license plate number?”

“No.” Writing down tag numbers wasn’t something she normally did when a guest checked in—though she thought she might start.

“And they left without harming anyone after you gave them Layton’s things?”

“That’s right. They didn’t harm anyone.”

Calvin made a motion that said he wanted to speak to Marbury. Cate raised her eyebrows in question, silently asking if he was certain, and he nodded. “Hold on,” she said to Marbury. “Mr. Harris wants to speak to you. This is Investigator Seth Marbury,” she said to Calvin as she extended the phone to him.

“This is Cal Harris,” he said, sounding his usual normal, quiet self, Cate felt an unsettling moment of shifting reality, as if she had lost her balance. She stared at him in disbelief that he could be the same man who had been so calm and cold as he aimed his shotgun at someone’s head. It was too much to take in, and almost in self-defense she found herself focusing on the strong hand that held the phone. Luckily for her and Neenah, he’d handled a shotgun as competently as he handled a hammer or a wrench.

Marbury must have asked what he did for a living. He said, “Whatever needs doing. Carpentry, plumbing, mechanic work, roofing.”

He listened for a minute. Cate could hear the rumble of Marbury’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. Calvin said, “When Mrs. Nightingale gave me her mail to take to town, she’d put the stamps on upside down. You know—the kind that come in a roll of a hundred. It’s the American Hag.” More rumbling from Marbury. ‘Yeah. I thought she looked kind of upset, so I took the chance I was acting like an idiot and came back. Just to be on the safe side. Brought my shotgun with me. That’s the reason the two left without hurting anyone.” More rumbling and a moment later he said, “No, no shots were tired, by anyone. My Mossberg trumped his Taurus—which, by the way, he left behind.’ A faint thread of amusement ran through his tone.

“Tomorrow’s okay,” he finally said, and handed the phone back to her.

“Mrs. Nightingale,” Marbury said, “I’m coming tomorrow to take Mr. Harris’s statement. Is it convenient for you to give one, too?”

“Sure. After ten o’clock would be best,” she said.

“No problem. I’ll be there at eleven.”

Cate clicked the “off” button and stood there, knowing she needed to rejoin the group in the dining room, but inertia held her feet rooted to the spot. “How could this happen?” she finally said.

“It’s going to be okay.”

She realized he hadn’t mumbled at all during those awful, tense moments in the attic, nor had he blushed once. He must be one of those people who rose to the occasion when he had to, then settled back into his comfort zone when the crisis was over. She would never again be able to look at him in the same way, she thought. ‘‘Calvin, I—” She stopped, and to her confusion felt her own cheeks turn hot. “I haven’t told you how grateful I am—”

He looked shocked, staring at her as if she had two heads. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

Because of the boys, she thought. He knew how petrified she’d been that Sheila would bring the boys back while Mellor and Huxley were still there. Grateful that she didn’t have to explain, she turned and hurried back to the dining room. He followed more slowly, and suffered a thigh-level mugging from two four-year-olds demanding once again to know how big the snake was and what he’d done with it.

She told the gathered neighbors what the detective had said, and that he was coming out tomorrow to take statements. By then Milly had the tea brewed to her satisfaction and Cate was obliged to sit and sip, as was Neenah. To her surprise, her nerves did begin to settle and the faint sense of everything being out of place began to fade. It wasn’t until her three rock-climbing guests returned, tired and windburned and happy, that the gathering dispersed.

Because there was no restaurant in Trail Stop, the nearest one being over thirty miles away, at extra cost Cate provided an evening meal of sandwiches, chips, and dessert if the guests asked for it. Her climbers had, so she got busy with the cold cuts and cheese. Her mother kept the boys occupied, though they kept asking to go to the attic so they could hunt snakes, too, and got them fed while Cate was serving the climbers. By the time she and Sheila sat down, Cate was so tired she could barely eat. She knew it was her body’s reaction to the day’s stressful events; she was as exhausted as if she’d climbed all day, then hiked ten miles.