"Gone? When?"

"Sunday night. My dad says – " Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I gotta go. Meet me at Larry's? At noon?"

"Sure, but – "

She sprinted away, long hair flapping behind her. I thought of following, but the animosity between Janie and Rick Hargrave extended to Hargrave's opinion of Sammi, and I knew Tess wouldn't feel comfortable discussing her friend in front of him.

I glanced down the street at the OPP office. Most cops don't have a problem with me. In fact, the "public safety" occupations – cops, military, firefighters, paramedics – form a large part of my lodge clientele. They might not agree with what I did, but they understand how it could happen. Don Riley and his sergeant, Rudy Graves, were among the exceptions. The first time we met, Riley told me I was a murdering bitch, no better than the man I'd killed. Our relationship had deteriorated from there. Yet, given the choice between spinning my wheels at the lodge and going a few rounds with Riley, I chose the latter.

When I walked into the tiny station that housed the White Rock OPP detachment, I bypassed the desk clerk, Maura, who wisely pretended she didn't see me. There were three officers in the main room: Riley, Graves, and a new guy. Riley was in his usual place, leaning against the pillar in the center of the room. One of these days, after years of straining to hold him up, it's going to give way. With any luck, it'll take him and Graves with it.

"Get out of my station, Stafford," Riley said as I entered. "You aren't welcome here."

"It's a public building," I said. "Paid for by my tax money."

The new guy scrambled for the door, saying something about fresh coffee. I stepped aside to let him pass, and murmured a greeting. He gave me a half-smile as he brushed past.

"What do you want, Stafford?" Riley said.

His hand moved to the butt of his gun, stance widening. I hummed the theme to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. He turned on his heel and stomped into his office, slamming the door behind him.