information, and when he told me he planned to follow up, I believed him.” Maggie tried to ward off a grin, but failed. “He had one of those thick mustaches, like Tom Selleck. And when he showed me his badge, I saw photos of his two dogs in his wallet. Showed he had a heart. I liked that.”
“What about the second detective?” I asked.
She gave a disgusted snort. “Preoccupied, and disinterested. Oh, he put on a good show, but I can tell when someone is selling me a line of bull.”
Lucas stifled a cough with his hand. Like him, I was really hoping that Maggie didn’t pick up the fact that we were in the load-of-bull-selling business.
Which made me wonder. Maggie seemed to be exactly what she presented—a kind old lady who felt terrible about Sarah’s death—but how did we know that was true? Maybe Holland had told her we might be coming, and paid her handsomely to stall us.
I might be paranoid, but that feeling of apprehension had proven useful in many situations.
So my android sensors performed a discreet survey.
Blood pressure, pulse, body language—all in normal range. No reason to believe she was lying.
Maggie scowled out at the street. “He told me he’d already checked it out, and the stranger was just a serviceman. Checking the pipes, or some such. Rubbish. Never once seen a serviceman wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of some type of uniform. And where was his company van or truck? Plus, he was twitchy. Kept jerking his head around like he expected someone to bust him at any minute.”
Holland, in jeans and a T-shirt? Acting twitchy? Possible, but not likely. Holland was the kind of man who believed his own hype. He’d have no problem explaining his presence, no matter where he was.
Still. “Do you remember anything about what this man looked like? Anything at all?”
Maggie caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I wish I did, but he wore a baseball cap on his head and I never did get a good look at his face. He was tall, though, at least six feet, and plenty scrawny. I remember thinking no one had cooked him a good meal in a long time.”
My fingers curled under the edges of the chair. These details definitely didn’t match up with Holland. And they weren’t much to go on.
“Do you by chance remember either of the detectives’ names?” Lucas asked. “I’d love to know if they ever found that guy.”
She pursed her lips and frowned. “No, I can’t say that I do. But I would imagine you could find all the information in the police reports. As a family member, I’m sure they’d be happy to make you a copy, down at the local station.”
I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be happy at all, but I just nodded.
Maggie sighed. “I wish that I could see your cousin again. I still miss her. She’d come by on the weekends and keep me company. Made this house feel alive again. Sometimes she’d even bring friends.”
“She’d bring friends with her? Really?”
“Well, mostly just one. Chloe Nivens. She and Sarah were practically attached at the hip. They did everything together.”
Lucas leaned forward, seemingly excited by this new lead.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t move. The instant Maggie uttered that name, my memory sparked.
A girl with long brown hair, laughing and falling back into the snow, still stuck to her snowboard.
Chloe.
When I’d had the memory back at the cabin, I hadn’t realized that other girl had been my—I mean, Sarah’s—best friend.
“Did you know her at all?” Maggie’s question drew me back into the moment. She watched me quizzically from behind her bifocals.
I formed my expression into a false smile.
“No. But Sarah always talked about her. You wouldn’t happen to have her number, by chance?” Now that the initial shock had dissipated, some of Lucas’s excitement trickled into me. A lead was a lead.
“Chloe’s number? Why?”
I searched my mind for a good reason to contact Sarah’s friend if I didn’t even know her.
But Lucas was quick on his feet again. “She might have some opinions on the schools Mona’s looking at. Since she’s from this area and everything.”
“Not a bad idea. Chloe is very smart. Has a good head on her shoulders,” Maggie said before going off on a tangent. “I do think I have her mother’s number—Daphne Nivens. Daphne’s mom, Opal—that would be Chloe’s grandma, god rest her soul—and I used to play gin rummy together. Daphne still checks in on me every now and