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park, but he dismissed it as soon as I brought it up. “A twenty-year-old dispute over a pie-baking contest does not interest me, Libby. I want to know what information Sadie had someone killed her to keep hidden.”
    “You think it’s because of what she was going to tell the mayor? Did she ever find her?”
    “No.” He ground his teeth. “If she had, my job might have been simpler.”
    “I wondered why it would happen in such a public place.”
    “Desperation, maybe,” he speculated. “He was running out of time. The fewer people who knew his secret, the better.”
    My words came tumbling out before I realized what I intended to say. “If she had been less eager to get the mayor’s attention and just told you when she stopped at our blanket, she might be alive today.”
    Clark’s gaze went out of focus. “Pride before a fall…”
    A knock on the door distracted us both from our musings. “Chief, Ken Barnett is here,” Bart, one of the officers, called through the door. I expected Clark to shout about being disturbed, but he paled. I recalled how Ken’s face looked when he sobbed over his grandmother’s body, and I felt sorry for Clark having to inform the young man about what happened.
    I stood up to leave, but Clark reached across his desk to touch my hand. I drew away and saw hurt in his face. “Stay?” he asked. Color rushed into his cheeks.
    “Sure.” I sat down again, and Clark called for Ken to come in.
    Ken’s clothes were so rumpled, I had the feeling he had slept in them. Then again, red-rimmed and swollen, his eyes looked like he hadn’t slept much the night before. He fell into the seat Clark indicated and refused the offer of coffee. I looked at Clark and saw that he was at loss. He didn’t know how to deal with a sixteen-year-old in the capacity that he had to today, and I wasn’t much help.
    “Did you hear from your parents yet?” Clark asked, and I sat forward, hoping to hear they were on the way.
    “No. I left a message at the inn where they were staying, but they’re hiking in the highlands. My dad didn’t answer his cell phone.”
    “Scotland?” Clark asked, and Ken nodded.
    Poor Ken, dealing with this madness, and his parents enjoying a vacation without him. Anger rose in me at their decision to leave him without a sure way to get in touch with them. Sure, he might be sixteen, but he was still a child.
    Clark stood and rubbed his neck. He walked to the window, peered out, and then turned back. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. I think you can handle it.”
    I studied Ken. He didn’t look like he could handle anything to me. “Clark—”
    “I suspect your grandmother was murdered.”
    Ken surged to his feet, knocking his chair over. Tears sprung to his eyes and splashed down his cheeks. “No, no, no. It can’t be. I…”
    I hurried to his side and tried to hug him, but he pushed me away. He didn’t want to be comforted like a baby. I felt his pain and saw it in every movement. My throat closed, and I mumbled words of encouragement even as they sounded hollow to me. Ken didn’t seem to hear either way. Clark bypassed the empty words of comfort. He stood solid and quiet, waiting until Ken drew his emotions under control. The young man wiped his face and stood straighter.
    “Thanks for telling me. I don’t know anything about…um…”
    “I’m going to keep the body for a couple days. Maybe we will hear from your parents by then. They can decide after that.”
    “Yeah.” I heard relief in Ken’s tone, and then he looked at me. Was he blaming me just like so many others? I figured the ones who accused me just wanted to stir trouble, but did Ken believe it as well? He had rejected my offer of comfort and backed away from me. When he turned to leave Clark’s office, I made a decision. I mumbled an excuse to Clark and ran out after Ken. I caught him on the front sidewalk outside the station.
    “Ken, wait,” I called.
    He looked back at me, anger