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continued. “Call me Liz. You can even call me Sheriff. Nobody calls me Lizzie.”
    He arched an eyebrow. “That’s all I ever called you.”
    “I know.” Her words held a sadness that almost broke his heart. “But not anymore.”
    Then she slipped out of the room.

TWO
    “S al, can you come in here for a minute?” Liz placed her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk.
    The wiry Italian strode in. His brown shoulder harness held his Glock in place. Muscular biceps puffed out the short sleeves of his black T-shirt. A thin gold necklace ringed his neck. He grinned, his teeth white and even, and it was all Liz could do not to laugh. He was a walking caricature of a mafioso wannabe—an Italian tough guy. He knew it and played it to the hilt for the ladies. She’d found herself immune to this particular part of his charm years ago.
    Sal folded his wiry body onto one of the straight-back chairs in front of her desk and crossed an ankle on top of his knee.
    “Never thought you’d be one of the missing-in-
action’s. Where you been? The spa?”
    “I wish.” Liz ignored his lighthearted teasing. He’d been her right hand for over four years now and she didn’t know what she’d do without him. “Wait a minute. Does Country Corners even have a spa?”
    “Sure does. I heard the Thompson pig farm offers mud baths at half price this week only and they’re selling fast.”
    “That so?”
    “Has to be true. I got it straight from Gertie Simpson’s mud-caked lips.”
    Liz laughed out loud at the mental image of old maid Gertie Simpson covered with mud and thinking it was a beauty remedy.
    “Okay, I admit that was a good one. Now, get serious and fill me in.” Liz sat down and pulled her wheeled chair closer to her desk. “I take it you met with the state boys.”
    “Sure did. Detective Frank Davenport will be acting as liaison between our people and his men. They’ve agreed to handle the physical evidence—follow up with the state lab on the ballistic reports, prints and so on. They’re also investigating the Hendersons’ background prior to their move here.”
    Liz nodded and continued listening.
    “Darlene enlarged all of the crime scene photos. She gave copies to Davenport and posted the other set to our board in the conference room.”
    Liz breathed a sigh of relief. Adam had been right. A couple hours of sleep hadn’t prevented progress from being made on the case.
    “Anything helpful in the photos?”
    Sal shrugged and took a sip of coffee from the cup he’d carried in with him. “Not yet. You know how that goes. You don’t know what is or isn’t helpful until you have more of an idea about what happened in the first place.”
    “Thanks, Sal. I appreciate you coordinating things for me.”
    “No problem.” He grinned at her like a kid who’d nabbed the top score on a school test and then continued updating her. “Our department’s handling the investigation of the Hendersons since their move here in January. I’m running a check to see if there are any business ties we should be looking into. Paul’s checking out Mrs. Henderson’s social calendar. He’s also interviewing neighbors to see if anybody saw anything—which is unlikely since the houses are so remote and secluded out there, but it’s worth a shot. Miller’s off this shift. I sent him home. I figure the guy’s kissing retirement. Don’t see any reason to ask him to work double shifts. Not yet, anyway.”
    “Darlene?”
    “She’s on a B and E call. I don’t know—home invasions, murders, dead drug dealers, breaking and entering. All of a sudden our quiet little town isn’t so quiet anymore.”
    “Tell me about it.” Liz pulled a mug out of her top drawer and looked longingly at Sal’s coffee cup.
    He laughed. “Want me to grab you a cup of coffee, boss?”
    “I’ll get some in a minute. Want to catch up first.”
    He leaned over and poured half of the contents of his cup into hers. “Here, that should hold you