“Which doesn’t mean that wasn’t about to change,” he says. “I don’t mean to pry …”

“Nothing to pry at. My balcony is the best place to see the northern lights. It was talk and tea. Not exactly scandalous.” I lower my voice. “And please don’t say anything to him that would suggest otherwise, or it’ll be the last time I’ll get company to watch the lights.”

He smiles. “I’ll volunteer.”

“And you’d just watch the lights with me and expect nothing to come of it?”

“Uh … not expect, but hope? Hell, yeah. Eric’s probably the only guy I know who could sit on your bed, star-gaze and not hope there was more coming.” He leans in and mock-whispers, “You may have heard, he’s a little weird.”

“What’s that?” Dalton asks as he steps onto the deck.

“Will says I’m a little weird,” I say.

He snorts. “I’m not disagreeing after that stunt.”

I shake my head and say to Anders, “What’s up?”

“Just a situation that could require a woman’s touch. Mick didn’t go home after work tonight. He was tired, so Isabel said she’d close up. She sent him home at eleven. He wasn’t there when she got back, and she’s concerned. Considering we’ve had three murders, I don’t feel right dismissing it.”

“Is anyone else not where they should be?” I ask, as casually as I can.

“Hmm?” Anders says.

Dalton gives me his dissection table look. Then he says for me, “Have we had any other reports of trouble? Anyone seen heading for the woods?”

Anders frowns. “No.”

I nod, and Dalton and I head out for Isabel’s while Anders goes to do a walkabout and see if he can spot Mick.

As Dalton and I walk over to Isabel’s, I say, “About Mick, I heard you fired him.”

He snorts. “Someone’s spreading stories. It wasn’t like that at all. Mick didn’t much like being a cop. I think he only agreed to be one up here because it helped him get into Rockton. When the council brought Will in, they were willing to keep Mick on, but he jumped at the chance to quit. He did militia duty for a while. Then he hooked up with Isabel, and the only enforcement he’s done since is kicking drunks out of the Roc.”

“What’s his story before that? Why’s he here? If I can ask.”

“He was on a task force taking down some drug guys, and he was the only one they couldn’t pay off. They decided to get rid of him. He decided he’d rather not be gotten rid of. And he wasn’t all that keen on a law enforcement career after that.”

“Can’t blame him.”

“Nope, really can’t. Either it’s your thing or it’s not. I need people on my team who want to be there. You do. Will does. Mick didn’t.”

A few more steps in silence. Then he says, “Earlier, you talked about vengeance and protection. You think someone took revenge for Abbygail’s death. You meant Mick, didn’t you?”

I nod. “Yesterday, Mick came to me about the raspberry thing with Abbygail. You remember that?”

“Her secret admirer?”

“At first, Mick said he suspected Lang. Then, yesterday, he changed his mind. He said it was Hastings.”

“Fuck. He framed Hastings for it?”

“No, I checked a few things afterward, and I’m ninety percent sure it was Hastings who left those berries.”

“Which means Mick handed him over after Abbygail’s body was found. And after he’d sent you sniffing in another direction. Shit.” Dalton rolls his shoulders. “If Mick thought Hastings murdered Abbygail and he executed him for it …”

“But would he kill Hastings like that? I know, I can’t underestimate someone’s capacity for violence. Still …”

Mick is no longer just Isabel’s beefcake boy toy. He’s a real guy. A likeable guy. Can I imagine him murdering Abbygail’s killer? Yes. Murdering him in such a horrible way? No, I cannot.

“And then there’s Irene and Powys,” I say. “I haven’t found any connection between them and Abbygail.”

“They barely knew her. They moved in different circles.”

“Then what’s the answer? That Mick somehow thought Irene killed Abbygail and then whoops, my bad? Maybe Powys? Nope, wrong there, too. Ah, Hastings. That’s it.” I shake my head. “Makes no sense.”

Silence falls.

“You’re thinking maybe it wasn’t revenge,” Dalton says finally. “That Mick killed Abbygail, too.”

“I have to consider it.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think it’s possible?” I ask.

“I think I need to keep my mouth shut unless I can say something helpful.”

Four

Isabel’s place is hard to miss, given that it qualifies as positively palatial in Rockton. A two-storey home, twice the size of mine, right in the downtown core. It’s a rooming house, but since the extra beds aren’t currently required, Isabel is allowed to rent the whole building.

She’s sitting by the fireplace when Dalton and I walk in. She rises with, “About time. I was starting to think Will headed off to bed.”

I take the seat beside Isabel’s. “All right. Walk me through it.”

“So that’s how you’re going to play this, Eric? Let your detective ask a few questions, so I feel you’re taking me seriously? All right. First, let’s clear the elephant from the room. Mick is not in anyone else’s bed. I give him no reason to stray.”