All Night Long

see no reason to answer yours.”
    “Suit yourself Miss Stenson.” He turned his head slightly in the direction of the distant sirens. “But it’s obvious you were acquainted with the victim.”
    Irene hesitated. “We were friends once, a long time ago. I haven’t seen her or talked to her in seventeen years.”

    “I’m sorry” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, his eyes startlingly bleak. “Suicide is always tough o he people left behind.”
    “I’m not so sure it was suicide,” she said, before stopping to think.
    He inclined his head, acknowledging other options. “Could have been an accidental overdose.”
    She didn’t believe that, either, but this time she kept her mouth shut.
    “Why did you come here to see her tonight?” Luke asked.
    “What’s your interest in this?” she countered. “Why did you follow me here?”
    A police cruiser turned into the drive before he could respond, assuming that he would have responded, she thought grimly. Harsh lights pulsed in the night. The piercing siren was so loud now that she automatically raised her hands to cover her ears.
    The siren stopped suddenly. A uniformed officer got out of the car. He glanced first at Irene and then turned immediately to Luke.
    “Got a report of a dead body,” he said.
    Luke jerked a thumb in the direction of the hallway behind him. “Front room.”
    The officer peered into the front hall. He did not seem eager to enter the house. Irene realized that h as young. In the course of his short career here in Dunsley he had probably not encountered a lot of dead bodies.
    “Suicide?” the officer asked, looking uneasy.
    “Or an OD,” Luke said. He glanced at Irene. “At least, that’s what it looks like.”
    The officer nodded but made no move to investigate.
    More sirens sounded in the distance. They all looked toward the entrance of the drive. An ambulanc nd another cruiser were coming toward the house.
    “That’ll be the chief,” the officer said, obviously relieved.

    The vehicles halted behind the officer’s cruiser. The medics got out of the ambulance and pulled on plastic gloves. Both looked expectantly at Luke.
    “Front room,” Luke repeated.
    Irene sighed. Alpha male, she reminded herself. The kind of guy everyone instinctively turns to for direction in a crisis.
    The medics disappeared into the foyer. The young officer followed in their wake, more than willing t et them take the lead.
    The door of the second cruiser opened. A big, powerfully built man of about forty climbed out. His light brown hair was thinning on top. The expression on his craggy face was grim.
    Unlike Pamela, the intervening years had taken a toll on Sam McPherson, Irene thought.
    He gave her a swift once-over. No sign of recognition flickered in his gaze. He turned to Luke, just a he other responders had done.
    “Danner,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
    “Evening, Chief.” Luke angled his chin toward Irene. “I’m with Miss Stenson. She’s a guest at the inn.”
    “Stenson?” Sam jerked back around and gave Irene a closer scrutiny. “Irene Stenson?”
    She braced herself. “Hello, Sam.”
    He frowned. “I didn’t recognize you. You sure have changed. What are you doing back in town?”
    “I came to see Pamela. You’re the chief here now?”
    “Took over after Bob Thornhill died,” he said absently. He looked through the doorway, a tense,
    troubled expression creasing his face. “You’re sure that’s Pamela in there?”
    “Yes.”
    “I was afraid of that.” He exhaled deeply a long, world-weary sigh. “Heard she was in town this week. But when I got the call tonight, I hoped there was some mistake.
    Thought maybe she’d let one of he ity friends use the house for a few days.”
    “It’s Pamela,” Irene said.
    “Damn.” Sam shook his head, mournful but resigned to the inevitable. “You’re the one who found her?”
    “Yes.”
    He gave Luke a brief, speculative look and then turned back to her. “How’d that happen?”
    “I got into Dunsley very late this afternoon,” she said. “I tried to call Pamela several times throughout the evening. There was no answer. I began to get concerned, so I finally decided to come out here to see if she was home.”
    “Cathy Thomas, the woman who took your call, said you reported booze and pills at the scene?”
    “Yes,” Irene said. “But—” She started to say that she didn’t think Pamela had committed suicide, but Luke gave her a hard look