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flash of memory that cut like a knife into my heart. A few years back, David and I had gone white-water
     rafting with Frank and Barbara. Afterward, we’d gone swimming in calmer waters. Frank was as much at home in the water as
     an otter. I could still see his powerful freestyle stroke.
    How could he have died in his pool?
    How could Frank and David both be dead?
    As I sipped the bracing whiskey I couldn’t come up with a single answer. I felt like a top that wouldn’t stop spinning. I
     had another drink and another after that until I was finally numb.
    Gillian almost seemed as concerned about me as she was for Barbara. That’s the way she’s been since David’s death, especially
     since I wouldn’t let the murder be. It’s as though I’m her adopted child. She reminds me of how I could imagine Emma Thompson
     might be—smart, but sensitive, thoughtful, funny too.
    “Come home with me tonight. Please, Frannie,” she said and made a needy face. “I’ll build a fire. We’ll talk till we drop.”
    “Which would be pretty soon. Gil, I can’t,” I said and shook my head. “A hurt collie’s coming in the morning. The Inn-Patient
     is already full.”
    Gillian rolled her eyes, but then she smiled. “This weekend then. No excuses. You’ll come.”
    “I’ll be there. I promise.”
    I helped put Barbara to bed; I kissed Gillian and Gilda goodbye; and then I headed home.

Chapter 14
    T HE FAMILIAR, WELCOMING SIGN loomed in swirling mists of bluish-gray fog: BEAR BLUFF NEXT EXIT. I signaled for a right turn,
     cruised down the off-ramp, and felt the usual
two
lumps in the road.
    Then I zagged onto Fourth of July Mine & Run Road, a narrow two-laner that cuts through five and a half unmarked miles of
     woods until it reaches Bear Bluff. The Bluff is basically a drive-through town. It has a gas station, a Quik Stop, a video
     store, and me. We all close by dark. There’s a local saying—
happiness is seeing Bear Bluff in your rearview mirror, but you better look damn quick.
    I couldn’t wait to get home. I wanted to escape into blessed sleep. I felt distant, unreal. I’d also had too much to drink.
    The unlit road looped around rocky outcroppings through the forest. Dense tree growth made reluctant way for the narrow, concrete
     thoroughfare, and for the dancing headlights of my Suburban.
    I slowed the car, and concentrated on getting home in one piece.
    Deer were bound to dash out at me, and I wasn’t in any shape for sudden-death decisions.
    I saw something strange, a streaking white flash in the woods to my right.
    I gently applied the brake. Slowed down some more. Peered hard into the shifting shadows of the woods.
    I hoped I was wrong, but the white flash looked like a young girl running. A little girl had no business out here in the middle
     of the night.
    I braked to a full stop. If the young girl was lost, I could certainly give her a ride to her home. I felt something was wrong,
     though. Maybe she was being chased by someone? Or she might be lost?
    I left the engine running and got out of the Suburban. The ground fog lifted some, so I walked a few yards into the woodland.
     My skin was prickling with apprehension.
    Stop.
    Look.
    Listen.
    “Hello,” I called in a soft, tentative voice. “Who’s out there? I’m Frannie O’Neill. Dr. O’Neill. The vet from town?”
    Then I saw the white streak again, this time darting from behind a tall, blue-green spruce. I scrutinized, looked closely,
     concentrated, squinted fiercely.
    It wasayoung girl, yes!
    She looked to be about eleven or twelve, with long blond hair and a loose-fitting dress. The dress was ripped and stained.
     Was she all right? She didn’t look it from where I stood.
    She’d heard me, seen me, she must have. The girl started to run away. She seemed afraid, in some kind of trouble. I couldn’t
     see her very well. The fog had returned in ragged shreds.
    “Wait!” I called out. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself. What are you