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up and I saw it was Detective Shisler. My breath caught.
    “You find Wolf?” I asked when she reached me.
    She met my eyes. “No. I’m sorry. But I got your message. Can we talk?”
    “Sure,” I said. “We can go to my office.” I turned to Nick. “Why don’t you go inside and warm up? I’ll get you when I’m done. Or Lucy can give you something to do, if you want.”
    “Don’t worry about me. I’ll finish this.” He held up a fistful of Souderton Independent s and Philadelphia Inquirer s.
    I nodded and led the detective through the parlor and into my office, where heat from the electric baseboards greeted us.
    “Oh, that feels good,” she said.
    “Go ahead and have a seat.” I pulled off my stocking cap and unzipped the top part of my coveralls, circling around to my chair. My stomach was suddenly back to the cramps that had afflicted it up until I’d begun work that morning. I made sure the wastebasket was in easy reach, and waited.
    Detective Shisler sat down, unwinding the scarf and revealing a short cap of brown curls that stuck out at all angles from her head. Her mascara was smudged, and the eyebrow pencil a bit much, but her smile was genuine, if sad, revealing slightly crooked teeth. I’d noticed none of these things the night before.
    “You never did tell me how you knew I’d been at Wolf Ink yesterday,” I said.
    She took off her gloves and laid them on my desk. “That was the easy part. I saw your note on their computer, and matched you up with the appointment book.”
    I nodded.
    She crossed her legs. “We kind of shook you up last night—”
    “Kind of? I was a wreck.”
    “Sure. I’m sorry.” She pulled her tablet out of her pocket. “You called me this morning?”
    “Yeah.” I relayed the information to her about Billy’s thrashing at the school.
    She nodded. “We know all about that. In fact, we investigated it.”
    “So you know who was involved.”
    “We do.”
    I waited, but she said nothing more.
    “Any chance they’re involved?” I asked.
    She lifted a shoulder. “Sure, there’s a chance. We’re checking it out.”
    “Okay. Good.”
    She shifted in the chair. “That’s why you called?”
    “Yup. Sorry it doesn’t help more.”
    She smiled. “I’m just glad you’re willing to share information. Speaking of that, could you please tell me some names of people who know Mr. and Mrs. Moore?”
    “Don’t know many. But my friend Bart Watts knows the Moores pretty well.”
    Knew Mandy. Hopefully still knows Wolf.
    I gave Shisler Bart’s number at home and at the Biker Barn. Not that he’d be getting to work that day. “He’ll tell you whatever he can.”
    “Thank you. And thanks again for calling. I was going to stop by today, anyway, to make sure I got all the details from you about yesterday, and to ask a few more questions.”
    I sighed, but waved my hand over my desk. “Ask away.”
    She sat back. “The man who came into the parlor—Tank, I believe you said? Do you remember anything more about him? Who he might be?”
    “I have no idea. Bart might. I didn’t think about asking him.”
    “I’ll follow up.” She scribbled on her pad. “And the meeting the Moores had planned? Any chance you remember what it was about? We can’t find anyone or anything that tells us. Mrs. Moore’s mother doesn’t even know where they were headed. Lots of ideas, but nothing concrete.”
    I shook my head. “They never said. Just mentioned it would go late, so Billy was staying at his grandma’s.”
    She sighed and put away her tablet. “Thanks again for calling. I appreciate any help you can give me.”
    “Whatever I can do.”
    She took a card out of her coat and wrote something on it. “My cell phone. Feel free to call anytime.”
    I took the card and stuck it in the front pocket of my coveralls. “I’ll try to think of anything else I’ve forgotten. Can’t imagine what it would be, though.”
    “Thanks.” She stood and re-wrapped the scarf around