THE NEXT MORNING, CHIEF Dalton called and asked us to come to the police station. As we drove down Main Street, I pointed at Penelope’s Sugar Shack. “That’s where I bought the brownies for the potluck yesterday. They were good, weren’t they? Captain Dan had a couple of them. That’s the kind of last supper I’d like to have.”
Scooter gripped the steering wheel tightly while he pulled up in front of the police station. It was painted bright blue and had flower baskets hanging from the windowsills, like the rest of the buildings on Main Street. It almost felt cheerful until I remembered why we were there.
Officer Moore greeted us and ushered us into the chief’s office. After exchanging a few pleasantries, we tried to make ourselves comfortable in the hard wooden chairs in front of his desk.
