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fingerprints?”
    “We might, assuming the prints aren’t all Dr. Beaumont’s. But we’re also looking for witnesses, getting descriptions of anyone seen in the parking lot or driving a truck like this. It’s an unusual vehicle, so people have a better chance of remembering it.”
    Meadows pointed his chin at me. “We’ll get him.”
    “Good.” I could’ve pointed my chin back at him, but that would’ve been childish. I looked at Willard. “Any chance I could take Carla’s personal things along?”
    Meadows crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”
    “I wasn’t talking to you.” Dumbass .
    “But I can answer the question.”
    Willard glared at his subordinate and turned to me. “After Officer Meadows is done processing the vehicle he’ll bag up anything that can come with him and isn’t needed for evidence. Dr. Beaumont will get it all back.”
    I looked steadily at Meadows. “Everything.”
    He didn’t respond.
    Willard sighed. Loudly. “Anything else I need to know, Officer?”
    Meadows angled his pointed chin toward the detective. “Not yet.”
    “Okay, then. I guess we’ll be going.”
    I stepped back, ready to get away from Mister Annoying.
    “Unless,” Willard said, “Ms. Crown wants to tell you a joke.”
    If he hadn’t been a policeman, I’d have slugged him.

Chapter Seven
    Nick’s phone rang only once before it was picked up. But it wasn’t Nick’s voice I heard. I suppressed a groan. “Miranda?”
    A quick breath. “Oh, it’s you .”
    “Where’s Nick?”
    “Out.”
    “Out where?”
    “Look, what do you want?”
    I stifled a swear word. “What do you think I want? I want to talk to Nick.”
    “Well, you can’t. He’s not here.”
    I didn’t feel guilty any longer about wanting to smack her on the head. “When’s he getting home?”
    “Don’t know. He’s pretty busy today.”
    “Okay. Fine. Will you at least leave him a message to call me?”
    “I’ll leave a message.”
    Spoken like I’d asked for the world.
    “Thank you,” I said. “So much.” I don’t think I was successful keeping the sarcasm out of my voice. I slammed down my phone.
    “Who was that?”
    I looked up and leaned back in my office chair to stretch, my feet still resting on the desk. I was pooped from an afternoon of chores: finishing up the water cups, checking fences, cleaning the heifer barn… I’d checked on Wendy several times, but she still hadn’t produced much more than that cud she kept recycling.
    “It was Nick’s annoying sister.”
    Lucy grinned. “The younger one. Miranda.”
    “Yeah. The older one’s fine.”
    “Liz, right?”
    I grunted a yes. I didn’t want to talk about Nick’s sisters, who knew his schedule better than I did. Knew what he was busy doing, and would be seeing him yet that day.
    I pulled my feet off my desk. “Lucy?”
    She was flipping through folders in the filing cabinet, pausing now and then to check a tab before moving on. “Yeah?”
    “How long do you think you’re going to work for me?”
    She looked up, her fingers stuck in the drawer, holding her spot. “What?”
    “You think you’ll want to work for me for a while?”
    She frowned. “Well, sure. Why would I stop?”
    I looked down at my desk, then back at her. “Just wondering.”
    “Stella—”
    “Never mind. I’m just…trying to plan.”
    She pulled her hand out of the drawer and turned toward me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stella, what’s going on?”
    “Nothing.”
    “But—”
    “You heading out for supper soon?”
    She stood there, eyes narrowed.
    I stared back.
    She finally gave a little shake of her head. “I thought I would go home for supper, since you’re taken care of for food.”
    “You can always go home, even if I’m not having supper made for me.”
    She breathed a laugh through her nose. “Like I’m going to leave you to your toast and apple butter every night.”
    “Apple butter? Who gets that gourmet?”
    Now she laughed out loud.