“Keep him safe, Lieutenant,” Lily said. “He was part of this, too, as was Mr. Monk. And look what happened to him.”

“You got it.” Lieutenant Dobbs said then, “You know, it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve met Hoyt here, a real federal agent and all, and I haven’t had to watch Wheel of Fortune with my wife. I haven’t had a single bored minute since I got that first call from you guys. Only bad thing is this body over there. A body’s never good.” He sighed and waved to one of the other officers. He said over his shoulder, “Clark, try to keep these two out of more mischief, all right? Oh, yes, I’m going to be interviewing all the Frasiers, including your husband, Mr. Tennyson Frasier. Maybe it’ll scare them, make them do something else stupid. I understand you’ve already tried, got them all riled up. Now let’s see how they handle the law.” He waved toward the body bag containing Mr. Monk. “This wasn’t a bright thing to do.”

“Don’t forget Charlotte Frasier, Lieutenant,” Lily said, “and don’t be fooled by that syrupy accent. She’s terrifying.”

Hoyt said, “Then I’m going to wait until the lieutenant is through with them, wait until they’re nice and comfortable at their homes in Hemlock Bay again, and then I’m going to pay them a little visit and grill them but good. Savich has sent me lots of stuff. I’ve been speaking to some of our representatives in Sacramento, checking real close into Elcott Frasier’s financial situation. Lots of conflicting info so far, but there’s been a lot of flow in and out of his accounts there. Something will shake loose; it usually does. Oh, yeah, I heard that Elcott Frasier has hired Mr. Bradley Abbott, one of the very best criminal lawyers on the West Coast, to represent him and his family.” Hoyt rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be really interesting.”

As they drove back to Eureka, Simon was brooding. Lily recognized the signs. He looked single-minded as he drove, looking neither right nor left, saying nothing to Lily, who was hungry and wanted to go to the bathroom.

“Stop it, Simon.”

That jerked him around to stare at her. “Stop what?”

“You’ve got a look that says you’re far away, like maybe the Delta Quadrant.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking. About Abe Turkle. He’s a loose end, Lily, just like Mr. Monk. So is Morrie Jones, but he’s in jail, and hopefully safe there. The lieutenant is going to put a guard on him.”

Lily said, “I forgot to tell you, when you and Hoyt were talking back there, Lieutenant Dobbs told me that Morrie claims he doesn’t know a thing, that a couple of thugs hurt him when he was minding his own business in a bar. He claimed no broad could ever hurt him. Oh yes, Morrie’s got a big-time lawyer. I wonder how much money Morrie’s being paid to keep his mouth shut.”

Simon said, “Can Lieutenant Dobbs find out who hired the lawyer?”

“I asked him if he knew. He said he’d sniff around. Now, Simon, you’re brooding because you think Abe Turkle might be in danger.” In that instant, Lily forgot she was hungry, forgot she needed to go to the bathroom. “You’ve just made my stomach drop to my knees. Let’s go see Abe, Simon.”

He grinned over at her, braked, and did a wide U-turn.

“Hey,” she said, “not bad driving. Won’t this piece of garbage go any faster?”

Simon laughed. “You’re the best, Lily, do you know that? Hey, I see someone doing another U-turn behind us. Must be our protection.”

“Good. Hope he can keep up with us.”

Simon laughed.

“My dad, Buck Savich, used to tell me that if I decided to become a professional bookie, I’d be the best in the business. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“He’d say my eyes changed color whenever I lied, and if anyone noticed that, my days as a bookie would be over.”

“Your eyes are blue right now. What color do they go to when you lie?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never looked at myself in the mirror and lied to it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, though, and let you know.”

Simon turned his attention back to the road. He saw big Abe Turkle in his mind, a paintbrush between his teeth, ready to beat the crap out of him. Then Abe’s smile when he looked at Lily. The man was a crook, but he was an excellent artist. Simon didn’t want him to get killed.

He sped up to sixty because his gut was crawling. Bad things, bad things. But he said in a smooth, amused voice, “I met your dad when Dillon and I were in our senior year at MIT. He was something else.”