Emmett sighed as though I was being deliberately difficult.
“Are you stating, for the record, that you don’t know a man named Karoly Lem?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Are you sure that’s the answer you want on the record?” Emmett asked.
“If I met some dude named Carol, I’d remember it.”
Emmett chuckled. He slid the top folder to the side and opened the one on the bottom. “Karoly Lem,” he read. “Born in Poland in 1962, moved to the U.S. with his family in 1980, became a naturalized American citizen in 1981. He lived in Portland for most of his life-“
“Is there going to be a test?” I interrupted.
“He came to Hammer Bay three weeks ago. He told Arlen, the manager at his motel, that he was scouting locations for Big 5 Sporting Goods. Six days ago, his body was found behind the library.”
Emmett stared at me, waiting for my reaction. “Why are there so few children in Hammer Bay?” I asked. “I see lots of couples, lots of station wagons and plastic swing sets on people’s lawns, but not many kids. Why is that?”
Emmett’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. “Mr. Lem had been torn apart by some sort of wild animal.” And yet, he’d called it a murder.
I knew better than to say the word
“I know you do,” Emmett said. He opened the other folder. “You were still in jail, awaiting arraignment for… how many murders was it?”
That wasn’t a question I felt any need to answer.
“Well, the number changed every time they found a new body, right? And the charges were dropped, weren’t they?”
I didn’t answer.
“In fact, some people were calling you a hero.”
“I’m not a hero,” I said, too quickly. A hero would have done more than kill a few predators. A hero would have saved his friend.
“Find any designer drugs in Hammer Bay, Mr. Lilly? Have you seen anything that can make the lame walk, and turn them into crazed killers, too?”
“Not yet.”
“And your relationship to Mr. Lem?”
“I don’t have one.”
Emmett nodded at me. “I think we should take a break. Wiley.”
Wiley shut off the camera. Emmett collected his folders and left the room. Wiley led me back to my cell.
It was still dark outside. Alone in the cell, I lay down on the bench and let myself drift off to sleep again.
I awoke to the sound of the cell being opened. This time it was Sugar Dubois letting me out. He didn’t handcuff me. I glanced at the window and saw daylight.
“What…” Sugar said. He seemed almost shy. “Why did you have so many meat wrappers in your apartment?”
“I’m a collector,” I said. “A rare cube steak can fetch a couple hundred bucks on eBay.”
Sugar didn’t think that was very funny. He led me out into the front offices. Annalise was already standing by the front door with Emmett. Shireen, Luke, and Wiley were nowhere in sight.
“You folks can go,” Emmett said. “If you intend to leave town, let me know about it first. Understand?”
I looked at Annalise. She shrugged dismissively and walked toward the door. I heard Emmett make a low growl in his throat. He was used to being treated like a big shot.
I followed Annalise into the street. The Celica and the black and red trucks were gone. There was nothing to do but walk back to our rooms. My stomach grumbled, but food would have to wait. I wanted my ghost knife.
I noticed a silver Escalade parked on a side street near the station. It looked out of place, but I put it out of my mind. I had other things to think about.
“Did you know Karoly Lem?” I asked Annalise. She didn’t answer. She was walking with her hands held out a little from her body. It wasn’t a big change in her body language, but I noticed it. I spoke in a low voice. “Do you need a trip to the butcher shop?”
“Yes!” she hissed.
We walked quickly through town. “Why hasn’t the meat cured you?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. It always has in the past, but this time a little piece of pain remains, and I can’t make it go away. The pain grows back.”
“What should we do?”
She frowned up at me. That word
