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Let’s keep it that way for a bit. This is a small town and I want to be able to control the information for as long as I can.” He gave Yolanda a meaningful look. “Let me notify the next of kin before word gets out, okay?”
    Yolanda stroked her collarbone, a strange expression on her face. As if she didn’t know whether she should be offended at being called the town gossip or take it as a compliment. She seemed to decide on taking it as a compliment, because she reached out and squeezed Officer Macho’s forearm. “You can count on me,” she said.
    I stood and crossed behind the bar, hoping to put some distance between them and myself. “I’m going to pour myself a drink now.”
    Officer Brooks raised a hand. “Hold on. I’m going to have to ask you not to touch anything back there. This is a crime scene.”
    â€œOh! I already poured one for her,” Yolanda said, managing to look contrite while batting her eyelashes at him.
    I picked up the half-full brandy and raised it toward her. “Thank you.” I smiled at Officer Brooks. “Drinking a bit of brandy is not against the law, is it?”
    Officer Brooks’s eyes narrowed in response.
    Beepo came around to the back of the bar. I expected him to snarl at me, but instead he sat down on his hind legs and watched me.
    â€œSo, where did you say Rachel was?” Officer Brooks asked.
    I sipped the brandy, enjoying the smooth burn down my throat. “Uh,” I hesitated. “She’s out of town. I’m in charge of the bar. Um. Until she returns.”
    Officer Brooks frowned, and for a moment he looked like he was going to say something but then seemed to think better of it and simply nodded. He walked toward the body and asked, “Did either of you touch him?”
    â€œOh no, I didn’t touch him. Why would I touch him?” Yolanda squawked.
    Beepo’s triangle-shaped ears perked up when he heard Yolanda and he immediately got up and moved out from behind the bar to go to her. I looked at the spot he’d left vacant. The Meat and Greet bag had been torn into and lay in shreds on the floor.
    Figures the dog took advantage of our distraction and had himself a killer meal.
    â€œDid you touch the body, Maggie?” Officer Brooks asked.
    â€œI did. I took his pulse,” I said.
    â€œOh! Yes, poor thing! You did! That’s probably what sent you right over the edge,” Yolanda said.
    â€œDid you move him at all?” Officer Brooks asked.
    â€œUh … I just lifted his arm to try and take the pulse, that’s all,” I said.
    Officer Brooks looked from the body to me. His eyes held mine for a moment, then I broke the connection and sipped the brandy.
    â€œAnd I closed his eyes,” I said. “They were open. He had a dead, you know, a dead glazed look.” I sighed and shrugged.
    Officer Brooks nodded. “Uh huh. What about the wine bottle? Anyone touch that?”
    Yolanda and I exchanged looks.
    â€œNo,” she said. “I didn’t touch it.”
    I eyed her cautiously, a chill raising goosebumps on my arms. I hadn’t seen her touch the bottle, that much was true, but she’d been standing over the body when I got here. She’d said the back door had been open. Why would both the back and the front door be left unlocked? It made no sense.
    And what exactly had she said to Officer Brooks while I was trying to wash away past sins in the bathroom?
    I realized that Officer Brooks was waiting for my response.
    â€œI didn’t touch it, either,” I said.
    The front door opened and a wiry man wearing spectacles popped his head inside. “Got a call from dispatch,” he said.
    Officer Brooks waved him in. “Come on in, Henry.”
    Henry was wearing coveralls, but he had such a young, fresh-faced boyish look that it was difficult to think of him as a crime scene tech. He nodded toward Yolanda and me, while he