“That why you brought Gary to Newenham with you?”

Jo ignored the question with a dignity that didn’t look quite natural on her pugnacious face. “What’s up, Wy? What’s going on?”

Wy leaned back against the door of the truck. “You know this last case, the serial killer?”

“Hairy Man? Sure. He’s still in jail, so far as I know. It’s been a month. Got to be some kind of record.”

Jo Dunaway’s ideal Supreme Court would have had all the justices named Scalia, but then she was a reporter and had seen firsthand the evil that men do far too often. Had she but known it, Liam’s ideal Supremes would all have been named Rehnquist. Wy thought about making the obvious comment but her courage failed her.

“Anyway,” Jo said, “what’s that got to do with anything?”

“John Barton, Liam’s boss, called. Said Liam had done so well in Newenham that John was promoting him back to sergeant.”

Jo digested this. “Wow. That was quick.”

“It’s partly your fault. You wrote that story with all those quotes making Liam sound like a hero.”

Jo looked at her. “So you’re not just pissed at Liam, you’re pissed at me, too.”

“Shit.” Wy smoothed back the curls that had escaped the braid falling down her back. “I’m not, Jo. Really, I’m not. It’s just that things were… It’s not like we don’t have other issues to deal with, you know? And now we’ve got to deal with this, too.”

“Liam must feel like a yo-yo,” Jo said.

“Yeah, well, apparently you’re only disgraced in the Alaska state troopers so long as you’re not clearing cases. When you are…”

“You’re undisgraced. Back in favor. Back on the fast track,” Jo said in sudden realization. “Okay. Got that. What else?”

“John offered him his old job back.”

“His old job?”

“Uh-huh.”

“His old job, as in, his old job in Anchorage?”

“Uh-huh.”