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weakly and took a sip of coffee, stalling, maybe steadying her voice.
    “I’m sorry,” Roscoe said, a little catch in her tone. She sipped and swallowed again, and regained her self-control.
    “No, Chief Roscoe, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Kim said. “I didn’t know. Truly. I had no idea Reacher’s photograph would upset you so much. I sincerely apologize.”
    Roscoe’s brows arched and she tilted her head and jutted her chin, like a dog identifying the source of a distant sound. Her lips lifted slightly at one corner, amused.
    She’s laughing at me now?  Kim felt played. But she didn’t understand the game. Heat rose in her chest.
    Roscoe said, “Reacher’s not here. You’ve wasted your time, I’m afraid.”
    Gaspar said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a cop cry when shown a missing persons photo, Chief Roscoe. In fact, I think this is a first for me. How about you, Agent Otto?”
    “A first for me, too,” Kim snapped.
    Roscoe replied with a little sarcasm of her own. “Sorry. Really shocking, my behavior. Seeing as how you’ve been so upfront with me. So I should definitely have been more helpful.”
    Gaspar didn’t let up. “So you’re refusing to cooperate with an FBI investigation?”
    Roscoe’s back was up now, too. “Look, you barge into my town, into my office. Unannounced. Unexpected. Lie to me. You knew Reacher wasn’t here when you asked me, didn’t you?  I don’t owe you anything.”
    Quietly, Kim asked, “What caused you to cry? What did Reacher do to you?”
    Roscoe took a breath, and another, and said, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got emotional because, well, I was … relieved.”
    “I’m lost,” Gaspar said. “Some guy assaults you, or worse, and you’re relieved that we think he might be back in your jurisdiction?”
    Roscoe said, “He didn’t assault me. And I’m relieved because the FBI thinks he’s still alive. I haven’t heard from him since he left Margrave.”
    “You expected to hear from him?” Kim asked.
    Gaspar seemed to get it, too. “You knew him well, then?” 
    Roscoe hesitated too long.
    Kim could almost see her rejecting one reply after another. Why so much concern over what to say about a drifter who passed through her jurisdiction briefly more than a decade ago?
    Finally, Roscoe offered a weak, “I knew him well enough.”
    Which made perfect sense and no sense at all. So that’s the way it was. Followed swiftly by, But how could that be true?   
    “Where did you meet him?” Gaspar asked.
    Roscoe’s pleasant expression returned. She’d collected her poise once again. Kim felt the momentum shift to Roscoe. She would cooperate, but only on her terms. Whatever those terms might be.
    “In the interview room across the hall in the old station.”  Roscoe tilted her head in that direction. She grinned. “I took his fingerprints and his mug shot after he was arrested.”
    Gaspar looked surprised. “Our files don’t contain any arrest records.” 
    “No arrest records?”  Roscoe’s desk phone rang. “Hard to believe the FBI missed something like that.”  She glanced down to see where the call came from and then ignored it.
    “We’ll need copies,” Gaspar said. “Can we get them now, while we’re here?”
    Roscoe feigned chagrin. “Afraid not. We had a fire. The station and everything in it was destroyed, unfortunately.”
    Gaspar ran his hand through his hair. He looked as peeved as Kim had felt a few moments before. “What was he arrested for?”
    “Something he didn’t do.”
    Not likely, Kim thought. If Reacher was arrested for anything, he’d done ten times worse and not been caught. Reacher was the kind of guy who solved all problems as permanently as possible.
    Roscoe’s phone kept on ringing. A low, insistent buzz. Two, three, four, five times.
     Gaspar pressed on. “What didn’t he do?”
    The phone kept buzzing. Someone really wanted Chief Roscoe to pick up that