“Dare I hope you’re jealous?” She didn’t give him time to reply, and said, “Good. But you don’t need to be. I only have eyes for you, Harry. Now wrap a blanket around your shoulders or something. How do you expect anyone to think straight, when you walk around like that?”

He smiled at her and reached for his discarded hospital gown.

Maria turned and called through the open door, “You can come in.”

Willow, Agent Hofstadler, and Detective Wynn entered the room and formed a half circle around the foot of Harry’s bed.

Harry had put his hospital gown back on, sleeves snapped over his shoulders, and was sitting upright just like before, only this time the legs hanging over the side of the bed wore jeans and the feet, a pair of his own socks.

They introduced themselves, and Harry said, “Has anyone heard from my sister?”

“Can you tell them what happened, Harry?” Willow asked.

“We went to tend to an injured cow. Somebody shot me. Listen, I called my sister. She didn’t answer. I texted her; she hadn’t replied.”

“It was one gunshot,” Maria said. “From about a hundred yards away, near the road. North Brand, that is. He fled on horseback.”

“And your cousin went after him?” Agent Hofstadler asked.

“Cousins, plural. But Trevor’s the one who caught him.”

“And how did the suspect wind up with a broken collar bone?” The short agent pushed her big glasses up higher on her nose, directing her question at Harry.

“I was unconscious at the time,” Harry said.

“I didn’t see that part,” Maria said.

“Huh.” The agent looked at her companion. He looked back, raised his eyebrows and shrugged, a whaddya-gonna-do sort of gesture. Agnes rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Harry. “How many people know you’re staying with the Brands?”

Harry lowered his head. “The whole town,” he said.

“Locals saw them together when he got hit by the truck,” Willow said. “Everyone else saw the video of it. Dang, was it the same shoulder, Harry?”

“It was,” he said.

Willow sighed and shook her head in a show of sympathy. “No question the hit and run was deliberate,” she went on. “We found the truck abandoned off a side road in the middle of nowhere. It’d been stolen three towns over.”

“We’re gonna need to see those files,” Agent Hofstadler said.

“I don’t think they want me dead, though,” Harry said.

“What makes you think that?” the agent asked. “Given that they just shot at you, I mean.” It was impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic with her deadpan delivery.

“Solomon’s death wasn’t deliberate,” Harry replied. “Everyone thinks all this is Robert, but even if it was, I know him. He would never have hurt Solomon. And he wouldn’t hurt Carrie, either.”

“But the guy who tried to shoot you, the guy in that room down the hall, isn’t Robert,” Maria said.

Harry’s face didn’t seem to register that. Maybe couldn’t. He was clinging to hope. He looked around the room, and his gaze stopped then widened on the white board, which had that day’s date in marker across the top.

“I’ve been here a whole day? Did Lily ever call back? Where’s my phone?”

“I have it, I have it.” Maria returned to the closet, took out a large plastic bag, and from it, removed his phone and his wallet. When she handed him the phone, he tapped his messages open, and searched. “She never texted back. I texted her yesterday, and she never replied. Lily never ignores a text. Not from me.”

“I know,” Maria said. “And I knew you’d contacted her. I told Willow yesterday. She had Ithaca PD send people to check on her last night,” Maria said.

Harry looked at her. “And?” She hesitated and he said, “Maria?”

Agent Hofstadler said, “Your sister wasn’t in her apartment. Her car and her handbag were missing, all of which suggest she left of her own volition. Her phone is apparently offline. We’re searching for her, watching her bank transactions, and monitoring her phone pings.”