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contentious.”
    “I don’t deny it. It’s fun to tease you.” Decker paused. “Do you ever miss the insular life?”
    “No. It was what I needed at that time, but I didn’t like being disconnected from the real world. Even at the time, I knew I wasn’t going to stay. I’ll tell you one thing that surprised me. I love living in a small town. It’s so manageable. And with the colleges nearby, I feel we get the best of both worlds. What about you?”
    Decker gave the question some real thought. “I must admit it’s still an adjustment. I often wake up with the anticipation of what’s going to await me at work. And then I realize it’s going to be same old, same old.”
    “You didn’t expect to be called down to a crime scene yesterday.”
    “True, but even so, there’s not a lot of detection work involved.”
    “So you think it’s suicide?”
    “Probably.”
    “But you don’t know why.”
    “No, I don’t. If I hunt around, I’m sure I’ll find out he had depression issues. It doesn’t seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision. And unless someone wants me to look further, it’s really not up to me to find out why he killed himself.”
    “What about those pages you found tucked away in his desk?”
    “Not really my business, either, unless it’s a suspicious death.”
    “What if they had something to do with his suicide?”
    Decker thought about that. “Let me get back to you on that one.” He smiled. “I’m not complaining, Rina. I like the quiet life.” A pause. “It’s certainly better than being shot at, but obviously that can happen anywhere.”
    “That is indeed the truth.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Can you stop off at the next Dunkin’ Donuts? I’d like some fresh coffee.”
    “Sure.”
    They found one ten minutes later on the main strip. There was a Dunkin’ Donuts, a DQ, a two-show movie theater, a library, a grocery store, a store specializing in livestock feed and equipment, a dress and fabric store, an appliance store—new and used—a city hall, and several diners, all of them specializing in pie. The parking was diagonal except for the hitching posts for the buggies. The population included some Amish, some moderns, and some in-betweens.
    “You want a cup?” Rina asked.
    “Thanks. I can get it.”
    “No, I’ll do it. I want to stretch my legs.” She came back a few minutes later with coffee. “Here you go.” Rina took out a large paper bag that she had brought from home. “Want a sandwich?”
    “No thanks, this is fine.”
    Rina took out an apple, made a blessing, and bit in. “Sure you don’t want anything to eat?”
    Decker patted his stomach. “Does it look like I miss a lot of meals?”
    “You look great.”
    “For my age.”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You thought that.”
    “I did not! We both look great. No asterisk ‘for our ages’ necessary.”
    “Easy for you to say. You’re way younger than I am.”
    “Even more proof why you must look great.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek again. “You snagged yourself one hot, terrific babe.”
    THE WOLF HOMESTEAD was ten minutes from the main highway, in a patchwork of snowed-under farms. There were some greenhouses, and what they grew behind the glass panes was anyone’s guess. Judging from the farmers markets, the hothouses probably had tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, and squashes. There were also chicken coops, pigsties, and sheepcotes. No hogs in sight, but the sheep were grazing, chowing down whatever brown grass and detritus remained from the fall crops. While the area certainly wasn’t Gainesville, it was vaguely reminiscent of Decker’s childhood: simpler times and simpler needs and much, much quieter.
    As they inched closer to the appointed address, the Wolf spread fanned out into lots of acreage, with a barn, two windmills, several chicken coops, and a sty. There was a corral and paddock, but no horses in sight. Around twenty sheep roamed around the grounds. Beyond