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home?”
    “It feels good,” she said honestly. “I had breakfast at the diner this morning and met Tori. I think I’ll like working there, and Lauren’s house is perfect. And I’m tired of sharing everybody’s lives over the phone.”
    “I’ve already told Sean I expect him, Emma and the baby to come over from New Hampshire for Christmas this year. I know they celebrated with your aunt and uncle last year because Emma was pregnant, but this will be the first holiday with all of you home since I don’t know when.”
    Liz could see the tears gathering in Rosie’s eyes, so she tried for a conversational U-turn. Rose loved to manage things. “I guess since I’m staying, I need to see if I can get a 207 number for my cell. Should I bother getting a landline? And maybe I’ll get cable. And a TV.”
    Rose grabbed a piece of paper and a pen while the men fled the room and got down to business. Liz drank her tea and let the woman do what she loved best.
    * * *
    “Was that the Kowalski girl I saw driving your Mustang?”
    Drew looked up at Officer Bob Durgin, who had spoken from his open doorway without preamble. “I lent Liz my car, yes.”
    “Why would you do that?”
    Drew arched an eyebrow, not caring for the guy’s tone. Durgin had always had it in for the Kowalski kids. Sometimes they deserved it, like the night a teenage Mitch leading him on a merry chase in his Camaro had led to Bob rolling the new cruiser. Drew was certain Bob still had no idea Drew was riding shotgun that night. And sometimes they didn’t deserve it. They’d found out when Mitch first returned to Whitford to help turn the lodge around that Bob Durgin had been in love with Sarah and, apparently as part of never forgiving her for choosing Frank Kowalski, he held a grudge against her and Frank’s kids.
    “Since we’re not exactly overrun by car rental agencies in Whitford, I lent a friend of mine a vehicle until hers is fixed,” he said, careful not to let his annoyance show in his tone.
    “You know how those kids are when they’ve got a fast car.”
    Yes, he did. Because he was usually in Mitch’s passenger seat or running his Mustang up the road behind him. Except for that one time, of course, when he’d been in front. “Liz is a thirtysomething-year-old woman now, Bob. We’ve all grown into fairly law-abiding citizens.”
    It was probably best not to mention that he’d stopped Liz for speeding the day after he gave her the keys.
    Bob made a disapproving sound and wandered off toward the coffee machine. Drew watched him for a minute, then tried to return to his paperwork.
    Despite his long-standing beef with the Kowalski kids, Bob Durgin was a good, steady cop. He’d be retiring in a few years, most likely, and when he did he’d have the distinction of having served his entire career, right from his first day as a rookie, with the Whitford Police Department. Even Drew had done several years in Portland before moving home again when a vacancy opened up at the same time his stepmother passed away from ovarian cancer.
    Bob had been offered the chief’s position, of course. It would have been rude not to offer it after all his years on the force, but the town had made the offer safe in the assumption he wouldn’t take the job. The man had no patience for politics, haggling with the budget committee over new tires for the cruisers, or being polite to citizens when they were a pain in the ass.
    Drew glanced up to check the time and, as if Bob Durgin had conjured her, Liz Kowalski appeared in his doorway. Her smile brightened his day considerably. “Hey, come on in.”
    “I think Durgin wants me in handcuffs.” His reaction to the word handcuffs must have shown on his face, because she laughed. “I meant, as in under arrest. Don’t even try to stick me with that visual.”
    “Nobody wants that. So, have a seat and tell me what’s up.”
    She sat in the chair across the desk from him and sighed. “What’s up is that Butch