Lena was already in the boutique when I came in, standing behind the counter with the blinds still half closed. A thin strip of light lay across the floorboards, and the air carried the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee from the shop next door. She looked up with that small, knowing smile she wore when she had news.

“There’s something on your desk,” she said, her voice holding the kind of calm that was never really calm.

I slipped off my coat, hung it on the peg by the door, and made ...