Selma was quiet throughout the meal and I didn't have much to contribute. I felt like one of those married couples you see out in restaurants-not looking at each other, not bothering to say a word. The minute we'd finished eating, she lit up another cigarette so I wouldn't miss a minute of the tars and noxious gases wafting across the table. "Would you like coffee or dessert? I have a nice coconut cream pie in the freezer. It won't take a minute to thaw. I can pop it in the microwave."

"Golly, I'm full. This was great."

"Are you cold? I saw you shiver. I can turn the heat up if you like."

"No, no. Really. I'm toasty warm. This was wonderful."

She tapped her cigarette ash on the edge of her plate. "I didn't ask you about your fingers."

I held up my right hand. "They're a little stiff yet, but better."

"Well, that's good. Now that you're back, what's the plan?"

"I was just thinking about that," I said. "I'm not sure what to make of this and I don't want it going any further, but I think I have a line on what was bothering Tom."

"Really?"

"After we spoke this morning, I made another phone call. Without going into any detail…" I paused. "I'm not even sure how to tell you this. It seems awkward."

"For heaven's sake. Just say it."

"It looks like Tom suspected a fellow officer in that double homicide he was investigating."

Selma looked at me, blinking, while she absorbed the information. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and blew out a sharp stream of smoke. "I don't believe it."

"I know it sounds incredible, but stop and think about it for a minute. Tom was trying to establish the link between the two victims, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, apparently he believed one of his colleagues lifted Alfie Toth's address from his field notes. Toth was murdered shortly afterward. Toth was always on the move, but he'd just gotten out of jail and he was living temporarily in a fleabag hotel. This was the first time anyone had managed to pin him down to one location.

No one else in Nota Lake knew where Alfie Toth was hanging out except him."

"What makes you so sure? He might have mentioned it to someone. Or someone else might have come up with the information independently," she said.

"You're right about that. The point is, Tom must have gone crazy thinking he played a role in Alfie's death. Worse yet, suspecting someone in the department had a hand in it."

"But you don't really know," she said. "This is just a guess on your part."

"How are we ever going to know anything unless someone 'fesses up? And that seems unlikely. I mean, so far this 'someone' has gotten away with it."

"Who told you this?"

"Don't worry about that. It was someone with the sheriff's department. A confidential source."

"Confidential, my foot. You're making a serious allegation."

"You think I don't know that? Of course I am," I said. "Look, I don't like the idea any better than you do. That's why I came back, to pin it down."

"And if you can't?"

"Then, frankly, I'm out of ideas. There is one possibility. Pinkie Ritter's daughter, Margaret…"

Selma frowned. "That's right. I'd forgotten their relationship. The connection seems odd, what with her working for Tom."

"Nota Lake's a small town. The woman has to work somewhere, so why not the sheriff's department? Everybody else seems to work there," I pointed out.

"Why didn't she speak up when you were here before?"

"I didn't know about Ritter until yesterday."

"I think you better talk to Rafer."

"I think it's best to keep him out of this for now." I caught the odd look that crossed her face. "What?"

She hesitated. "I ran into him this afternoon and told him you'd be back this evening."

I felt my eyes roll in despair and I longed to bang my head on the table top just one time for emphasis. "I wish you'd kept quiet. It's hard enough as it is. Everybody here knows everybody else's business."

She waved aside my objection like a pesky horsefly sailing through the smoke-filled air. "Don't be silly. He was Tom's best friend. What will you do?"

"I'll talk to Margaret tonight and see what she knows," I said. "After that, my only option is to go back to Santa Teresa and confer with the sheriff's department there."