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Mere glanced at her half of the duplex. There was, in fact, a broken window. Her aunt had been thorough.
“It is odd. We’re usually a very quiet town.”
“Yes. And the patrol officers were so busy, they were unable to provide backup to investigate a potential lead in our case.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope things quiet down.”
A patrol officer walked out of Nadine’s half of the duplex, a to-go cup of coffee in one hand and a cookie in the other.
“Thanks, Ms. Rask. I haven’t had one of your homemade cookies in a while.”
“No trouble at all, Moisés. Oh, there’s my Meretta. I was so worried when I heard your glass break.”
Mere played along. “I told you I’d be running errands after work, Aunty Nay. Did someone break in?”
“They tried, miss, but your aunt called us right away. Do you have some wood and nails to cover the window until you can get the glass guy out here?”
“I have some,” Nadine said.
“Good. Well, goodnight you two. Sorry for the hassle.”
“Thank you, Moisés.”
He saluted with the cookie and walked to his car. A few minutes later, both drove off, leaving Nadine and Mere to confront the special agents.
“How do you know the patrol officer?” Okabe asked.
“My great-aunt taught high school English for decades. She knows pretty much everyone in this town.”
“Fantastic. God, I hate small towns,” Gaudin said.
“We have a few more questions for you, Ms. Larsen. Can you spare a few moments?” Okabe took over the conversation again, shooting a glare at her partner.
“Do I need to call the family lawyer?” Nadine asked, all innocence and light.
Mere pulled out her phone. “I don’t think I need an attorney yet but give me her number in case this interview doesn’t go well.”
Had the situation been different, she would have laughed at the surprise on Okabe’s face. Nadine texted her the name and number. Mere unlocked her door, flipped on the hall light, and gestured the agents into the living room.
“Can I get you some water?” she offered, as she’d been taught to do.
“No, thanks,” Okabe said.
Mere dropped her purse on the floor and sat in her favorite chair. Agent Okabe perched awkwardly on the loveseat, the only other place to sit in the cramped room. Gaudin remained standing, leaning against the wall.
“What’s your first question?” she prompted.
“Have you heard the name Anders Haynes?”
“Yes.”
Gaudin blinked in surprise. Okabe’s expression was neutral. When neither asked anything else, Mere fought the temptation to expand on her answer. This was a tactic they used to get more information from a subject than they wanted to give. She would wait them out.
Silence descended, and Mere reminded herself why she played their game. Whatever she could do—whatever the town could do—to delay these law enforcement officers would help Anders. She bit the inside of her cheek and won this round.
“How do you know Mr. Haynes?” Okabe asked once it became obvious she wouldn’t answer.
“He’s a patron at the library.”
