That long-ago night she’d kept fiercely trying to hear, kept hoping he’d make everyone jump this time. She wanted him to get her mom and dad out of that fire. She wanted him to do what sheriffs do. Make things better. Make them right.

Instead, he pulled one fireman aside-closer to the girls by accident; he was trying to get away from that madhouse noise near the fire truck. “Look,” he said. “I don’t see a reason to run too deep an investigation-”

“There’s a lot of damage. A lot of-” Lily could see the fireman answering, arguing, looking unhappy, but she couldn’t hear most of the conversation. The sheriff’s voice had been closer and clearer.

“I know. I see. But we all know Campbell lost his job. Been what you call despondent. Three girls to support, no money coming in. I know he’d never have done nothing to hurt his family by intention. But I can believe a fire intended to get some insurance money got out of control.”

“Herman, I agree that that’s possible.” The old fireman pulled off his helmet, wiped a river of sweat from his brow. “But unless we investigate, I won’t have a clue how that fire started.”

“There’s only one likely reason. That’s all I’m saying. And I don’t want to hurt those girls more they’re already hurt. You hear me? There’ll be a cloud over their father’s reputation as it is. You want to make that worse?”

“No, ’course I don’t…”

Lily couldn’t remember much else, but looking at Herman Conner now brought back that night, like being slapped with the heat and the loss all over again.

He might be twenty years older, but he was still tall and lean, still just as sharp-edged. He’d lost half his hair, and the eyes looked baggy and tired. When he barged out of the office and caught sight of her, his face turned pale under his ruddy tan.

“Sheriff Conner…” She stepped forward. “You have no reason to remember me, but I’m Lily-”