Absolutely, Positively

y'know? Kendall a friend of yours?”

    “No.” Harry did not elaborate. “Who's Shorty?”

    “Runs the tavern next door.”

    “Thanks.”

    “Sure. Right.” Pete scratched the large portion of his stomach that was not covered by his shirt.

    Harry handed the unopened soft drink can to Molly. “Let's go see Shorty.”

    “I can't believe you pulled that off,” Molly said half an hour later as Harry halted the Sneath in the drive of an aging cabin.

    “Pulled what off?” Harry rested his arms on the wheel and examined the cabin with close attention.

    “The way you convinced Pete and Shorty to give us the information we wanted. You have an interesting effect on people, Harry. Have you ever noticed?”

    He glanced at her in mild surprise. “What makes you think Pete and Shorty weren't happy to give us the information about Kendall?”

    “Hah. Don't give me that. You know perfectly well you somehow intimidated Pete, and you bamboozled Shorty.” She held up the key in her hand and dangled it in front of him. “So we're interested in renting a cabin, are we?”

    “It was as good a line as any.” Harry opened his door and got out.

    “You're as smooth as silk when you want to be, Harry.” Molly scrambled out of the car and walked around the front of it to join him. “Do they teach the fine art of concocting outrageous stories in graduate school?”

    “As it happens, I got that talent from the Trevelyan side of the family.”

    “You do know what Shorty thinks, don't you?”

    “I can take a wild guess.” Harry took the key from her fingers and started toward the front door of the cabin.

    “I'll just bet you can, since you're the one who put the idea into his head.” Molly hurried after him. “He thinks we're looking for a secluded cabin far from the city in order to conduct an illicit weekend affair.”

    “Yes.”

    “Somehow,” Molly said very deliberately, “Shorty got the impression that one or both of us is married.”

    “Well, it wouldn't be an illicit affair if we were both free, now, would it?” Harry fitted the key into the lock of the cabin door.

    “I'm not sure I like having my reputation trashed just for the sake of a peek inside Wharton Kendall's cabin.”

    “Relax.” Harry pushed open the cabin door. “If Shorty ever sobers up long enough to talk to Pete, he'll realize that we were more interested in checking out Kendall than we were in using this place as a love nest.”

    “That should confuse him no end.”

    “It won't matter,” Harry said. “By then, we'll be long gone.”

    “I know, but—” Molly stopped talking abruptly, her attention captured by the interior of the cabin. “Good grief. I'd saywhat a dump , but I think someone else has already used that line.”

    From the eroded rug in front of the hearth to the layered stains on the linoleum floor of the kitchen, the cabin was a disaster. The smell of old cooking grease and rotting garbage permeated the air.

    Harry surveyed the scene. “Looks like Kendall cleared out quickly.”

    “This,” Molly declared, “is not just evidence of a hasty departure. A mess like this is weeks, even months in the making. This is the work of a born slob.”

    Harry smiled briefly. “I told you Kendall was a sloppy thinker.”

    “It shows.” Molly walked cautiously through the clutter. “I wonder where he did his work?”

    “Must have been right here in the living room. Unless he converted the bedroom into a workshop. I'll take a look.” Harry crossed to the short hall and glanced around the corner of the bedroom door.

    “See anything in there?” Molly called.

    “Just a broken-down bed that only a truly desperate couple forced to conduct their illicit love affair here in Icy Crest would find romantic.”

    “That lets us out.” Molly went to peer over his shoulder. “We're not desperate, and we're not illicit.”

    The bedroom was no cleaner than the living room and kitchen. Tattered curtains hung limply over the single grimy window. The mattress had the uniform gray patina and unpleasant stains that only long years of hard use could provide. The closet doors stood open. The interior was empty except for a broken shoelace and a sock on the floor.

    “He's definitely gone,” Harry said. “I wonder why?”

    Molly shrugged. “Shorty said that Kendall told him he was going back to California. Maybe that was the simple truth.”

    “Maybe.” Harry looked unconvinced. “Or maybe he's back