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my hand to catch his attention and he walked across the grass to me.
    “Ms. Grayson?” he asked. He wore the standard patrol-officer uniform and his hair was buzzed close to his scalp, so all I could see was dark stubble.
    I nodded.
    “You reported a body.”
    I pointed into the backyard. “At the table, just around the corner.”
    “Please wait here,” he said.
    I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stood there while he went to have a look. In less than a minute he was back, just as an ambulance pulled in behind the police car. He held up a hand to me and walked across the lawn to meet the paramedics. I waited while he showed them the body and then came back to me again.
    “Ms. Grayson, what were you doing here?” he asked.
    I explained about Maddie not showing up and how Charlotte and I had come to check on her. “I think Mrs. Hamilton’s in shock,” I said, gesturing at the truck. “I thought it was better if she waited there instead of staying where the . . . body was.”
    “I’ll get one of the paramedics to check on her.”
    The officer, whose last name was Whalen, according to his name tag, asked more questions and I answered them as best I could. He nodded after everything I said and made notes in a small spiral-bound pad. I couldn’t read anything in his face.
    “I’m going to need you to hang around for a little while, until I talk to the other two ladies,” he said finally, closing the notebook and tucking it into his shirt pocket.
    “That’s all right,” I said, thinking I should call Mac and tell him I was going to be a while, but maybe not why.
    I turned back to the street as a dark blue sedan squeezed in curbside in front of my truck. At the same time a black SUV parked at the end of the line of vehicles, and a man got out and started up the sidewalk. It wasn’t until he came level with the house that I realized I was looking at Nick Elliot.
    “Please wait here,” Officer Whalen said to me. He headed across the lawn toward the blue car, stopping for a moment to speak to Nick. It was obvious the two men knew each other.
    Nick had always been tall, but he was well over six feet now. He was wearing a navy Windbreaker over a sky blue polo shirt and black pants with multiple pockets on the sides. Charlotte got out of the truck on the driver’s side and walked around to him. He said something to the police officer and then turned his attention to his mother, putting one hand on her shoulder.
    I felt a little silly just standing there next to what looked like a bed of daylilies, but I didn’t want to intrude on Nick and Charlotte’s conversation. Finally I saw Charlotte point in my direction and Nick turned my way for the first time. He said something to his mother, gave her shoulder a squeeze and started toward me.
    It had been years since I’d seen him and it looked as though those years had been good to him. The sandy hair was the same, only shorter. And he was still built like a big teddy bear—but now the bear seemed to have the shoulders of a defensive lineman. He wasn’t quite the shaggy-haired, wannabe musician I remembered from all the summers I’d spent in North Harbor when I was growing up. He definitely wasn’t the same guy I’d French-kissed at fifteen.
    Then he smiled at me and I caught a glimpse of the boy I remembered. “Sarah, hi,” he said.
    I smiled back. “Hi, Nick,” I said, taking a couple of steps forward to meet him. “You got my message.”
    “You left me a message?” He frowned and felt in his pocket for his cell phone, setting down the boxy silver case he was carrying. I wondered what had happened to the black nylon backpack full of first-aid supplies that he’d used to carry everywhere.
    I looked at him uncertainly. “If you didn’t get my message, then what are you doing here?”
    He gestured over his shoulder at the car angled at the curb in front of my truck. “I’m here because Michelle called me.”
    From the time I was twelve years old