Ted Price was still at the sheriff’s station cataloguing evidence when the first person responded to the word that the sheriff’s office wanted to hear from people who had seen Hayden on Friday. So it was Rhys MacFarlane who ushered Ellen Storey into the suite the team had requisitioned as a base of operations. “Ms. Storey is here, Inspector Canham,” he said. Ellen stood in the doorway looking at Canham, who was seated at a two-drawer maple writing desk. It seemed far too small and delicate for him. She smiled ever so slightly, but said nothing. A moment passed before Canham stood, awkwardly, as if unaccustomed to the courtesy.
“You can sit down,” he said, indicating the wing chair opposite his. He opened a folder as if to check on a file. “Ellen Storey. The painter.”
“One of many this we
