“Do you remember what you said the other day . . . at the festival? About the loyalty in this town being a good thing so long as it’s in your favor?” She turned her face to the left and studied the man who’d become such a bright part of her daily life. A man who’d stood by her through thick and thin during the investigation into Tiffany Ann Gilbert’s murder and stayed by her side even after it was all over. Milo took a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich and nodded, his gaze focused somewhere in the distance. “You were right. It can really get ugly when it’s not, can’t it?” “I think you probably know that better than anyone.” Wiping his mouth with one of the paper napkins he brought to accompany their impromptu picnic lunch, he, too, leaned his head against the brick wall. “But I was an outsider, a newbie. Someone like Debbie Calhoun has lived here her entire life. She was born here, went to school here, was married here, is raising her family here, has opened a business here.
