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didn’t want to interrupt her, but she wasn’t sure what to do about the library. Did she keep it open? Close it? What?
    Emma left the body and was now studying the room. “Lindsey, can you tell if anything is missing from here?”
    It was on the tip of Lindsey’s tongue to say,
Yes, my brother
, but she held it in. She scanned the room. The collection of craft books were on the shelves. The fire was still out. The window was open but otherwise not even the cushions on the comfy couch seemed to have been moved.
    Jack, where are you?
Lindsey thought but didn’t say. Instead, she said, “No, everything looks fine except for the window.”
    Emma crossed to the window and examined it. She checked the lock and then moved back and forth and from side to side as if looking for something. Lindsey watched her.
    â€œWe might get lucky with a set of latent prints on the glass. It doesn’t appear to be broken,” she said. “Could it have been left unlocked?”
    â€œIt’s possible,” Lindsey said, knowing full well that it had been.
    She felt a twinge of guilt at not telling Emma about finding her brother in here, but how could she when she didn’t know where he was or what had happened? She glanced at the dead man, and her knees felt weak with relief at the realization that it could have been Jack lying there. Then she felt bad about being relieved, as perhaps this man had a sister somewhere who would soon be mourning him.
    A noise outside brought their attention to the door. The door banged open and Officer Kirkland stepped into the room.
    â€œSorry, Chief, but the ME is here,” he said.
    â€œThanks,” she said. “Show him in and then gather everyone in the library into another room.”
    â€œThe story time room in the children’s area will work,” Lindsey said. She liked it for two reasons: One, it was big enough, and two, it was on the complete opposite side of the building from the crime scene.
    â€œExcellent,” Emma said. “Thanks.”
    â€œIf you don’t need me here . . .” Lindsey let her words trail off. She wanted to be the stalwart library director, but honestly, the dead body was giving her a severe case of the wiggins and she wanted out of this room in the worst possible way.
    â€œGo ahead,” Emma said. “I’m sure Officer Kirkland could use the assistance.”
    Lindsey did not wait for her to change her mind. She hurried out of the room, passing Officer Kirkland. He was a big-boned, redheaded farm boy newly minted from his public safety training, and he followed Chief Plewicki around like an eager puppy.
    â€œAre you sure you don’t need me, ma’am?” he asked.
    â€œNo, I’m good,” Emma said. “I don’t think our vic is going to put up much of a fight.”
    Kirkland narrowed his eyes. “It sure looks like he didn’t at any rate.”
    Emma studied him. “What makes you say that, Kirkland?”
    It was all the invitation he needed. Kirkland crossed the room to her side and pointed to the vic’s hands. “There’s nothing under his fingernails. If he’d put up a fight, there’d be blood or skin. He looks like he just had a manicure.”
    Emma raised her eyebrows. “What else?”
    â€œHis clothes aren’t in disarray or torn. There are no scuffs on his shoes. If he’d kicked out at anything or anyone, there is no sign of it,” he said. He pointed out the pristine shine on the man’s leather shoes. “Since he doesn’t appear to have put up a fight, it makes me wonder if he was unconscious when the person attacked or if the strangulation marks are postmortem, trying to throw us off the real cause of death.”
    Emma nodded. She clapped him on the shoulder, looking pleased. “That’s exactly what I noticed. Nice work, Kirkland.”
    He beamed at her, and Lindsey was surprised he