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weapon felt heavy at her hip. Men might be willing to intimidate her unarmed social worker sister, but few tried the same behavior on Stevie. A woman’s face appeared in a window and Stevie smiled and held up a hand. She’d seen Dana Cooper downtown enough times to nod and say hello. Sheila swore she wouldn’t let anyone but Dana do her nails. All Stevie did with her own fingernails was clip them.
    Dana opened the front door, a cigarette hanging from her mouth. “You here to see us?”
    “I am,” said Stevie.
    “Is it about that asshole who killed my Amber Lynn?” Dana asked.
    “Yes, it is. How are you doing, Dana?” Stevie thought she looked thinner than usual. “I’m so sorry about Amber Lynn.”
    “Children aren’t supposed to die before their parents. I’m doing as well as someone whose child was murdered can be.” Dana looked away and blew her smoke to the side in an angry huff. “I heard Bob Fletcher got what was coming to him.”
    Stevie wasn’t surprised. News traveled fast in Solitude. Stevie kicked her boots at the cinder block steps, knocking off the snow. “Can I come in for a few minutes? This won’t take long.”
    Dana stepped back, making room for Stevie to squeeze by into the claustrophobic space. Tony sat at a small dinette table, eating breakfast, and the smell of bacon and eggs made Stevie’s stomach rumble. The small mobile home was cold. Both Tony and Dana wore thick bathrobes over their clothing, and Stevie was thankful for her heavy police coat. Tony gave her the evil eye over his hunting magazine as he shoved another bite of eggs in his mouth.
    “I hear someone delivered justice for Amber Lynn,” he said as he chewed. “Some people don’t believe in waiting around for the cops and courts. They let everyone off anyway.”
    Stevie lifted her chin. “Any idea who this caped crusader is?” She held Tony’s gaze.
    He grinned at her, and she saw eggs. “You cops want to put away the hero? Isn’t that how it always goes. The good guy gets in trouble.”
    “We have a justice system for a reason,” Stevie argued, knowing she was talking to a wall. “We can’t let the population deliver punishment on a whim. There’s a process.”
    “I know your process,” Tony said. “Your process has our granddaughter—Dana’s only kin—living with some stranger.”
    Stevie glanced back at Dana, who stared at the floor, one hand pressed against her abdomen while the other tapped her cigarette in a tray. She didn’t appear upset that she didn’t have custody of young Charlotte. She worked full-time and already had one mooching mouth to feed.
    “It looks like Charlotte will live with her paternal uncle. But I’m here to talk about Bob Fletcher.” She smiled at Tony. “Any chance you were wearing your cape near the police station Christmas morning?”
    Behind Stevie, Dana snorted. Tony set down his fork and chortled. “I didn’t kill Bob Fletcher. Hell, I was at church Christmas morning. We went to the first and second services. We didn’t finish up until one o’clock.”
    Small Town Rule #4: Everyone goes to church on Christmas and Easter. Even the assholes.
    “He’s telling the truth,” said Dana. “I was on the flower committee for that day.”
    “So we’re looking for someone who skipped church that morning,” Stevie said lightly. She’d originally been amused by Tony’s statement, but now she wondered if it was an angle they should look at. A good nine-tenths of the town must have been at some sort of service that morning, but it was a moot point if their killer wasn’t local.
    “Know any sinners I should be questioning?” she asked Tony.
    “Lots of them. But I saw them at church too.”
    She turned and handed Dana a card. “Call us if you think of anything.”
    Dana followed her out the door and down the steps, pulling her robe tight against the wind. “Thank you for handling him. I was afraid you’d put him in a bad mood.”
    “I know how to handle his