“It might have to be,” I told her.

“Aye, that’s what scares me,” she replied.

*****

I convinced Felicity to go ahead on her planned outing with her nature photography club but only after promising to call her if something of consequence happened. She made a great show of placing her cell phone prominently in a pocket of her photo vest and reminding me of the number before loading her equipment and setting out. I had showered and tied my long brown hair back in a ponytail after she left and was making a futile attempt to relax on the front porch swing when Ben pulled into the driveway.

“Hey, paleface,” he greeted me as he climbed the stairs.

I held up my hand in a classic TV Indian greeting. “How, Tonto.”

“However I can get it.” He motioned to the coffee cup in my hand. “Got any more of that? I’m havin’ a hell of a time wakin’ up this mornin’.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, getting up and opening the door. “Same here. It’s the only thing standing between me and sleep right now.”

Ben took a seat in the living room and was promptly accosted by a large, green-eyed, black cat that elected to take up residence in his lap. Dickens, as we called him, loved having visitors, especially men, and was quick to claim them for his own. I headed for the kitchen while he settled in, then quickly returned with a steaming cup of black coffee and handed it to Ben.

“I gotta be honest with ya’, Rowan,” he began, scratching the purring lump of fur beneath its chin. “I was thinkin’ on the way over, and I’m not so sure about you goin’ to the scene and all.”

“What’s the problem?” I asked. “Is it because I’m a civilian?”

“No, not at all,” he answered. “Civilian consultants ain’t that unusual. What I’m worried about is the fact that you knew the victim.”

“I see,” I nodded. “So you think I might be too close to this whole thing.”