Wilma Anson

Quick Facts

• Role: Vermont State Police detective; primary investigator into the disappearance of Katherine Royce
• First Appearance: The novel’s “Now” framing chapters, interrogating Casey Fletcher about the whereabouts of Tom Royce
• Key Relationships: Longtime friend and ally of Boone Conrad; professional adversary-turned-ally to Casey; lead officer on the Royce case at Lake Greene

Who They Are

Calm under pressure and allergic to theatrics, Wilma Anson is the book’s ballast—an investigator who counters the novel’s fog of fear with procedure, patience, and a sharp eye for what can be proven. Her presence is defined less by striking features than by steadiness: a “calm blankness” that rarely wavers and an everyday human touch (that ever-present scrunchie) that softens her otherwise crisp professionalism. At home she’s in purple yoga pants and a pink headband; on duty, a black suit, white shirt, sensible shoes, and a holstered sidearm telegraph that she is here to work. In a story saturated with suspicion and spectacle, Wilma represents the disciplined pursuit of truth—and, ultimately, the courage to recognize when justice must be nuanced rather than rigid.

Personality & Traits

Measured but not meek, Wilma combines a no-nonsense demeanor with disciplined skepticism. She insists on facts over theories and law over theatrics, yet her loyalty and pragmatic compassion allow her to bend institutional strictures for a greater moral end.

• Direct and no-nonsense: She cuts through pleasantries in her first interrogation of Casey, immediately probing motives and labeling “casual observing” for what it is—spying—establishing that she won’t romanticize vigilantism.
• Skeptical but fair: Initially doubtful of Casey’s alcohol-clouded claims, Wilma still follows up when offered a concrete theory and a tangible clue, showing she won’t let personal judgments prevent a real lead.
• Unflappable composure: The “deep patience” she jokes about becomes a professional asset; she stays steady with unreliable witnesses and shifting theories, keeping the investigation grounded.
• Loyal and protective: Her unwavering support of Boone through addiction and grief—vouching for him during his wife’s death investigation and finding him a place to land—reveals a fierce, personal loyalty that informs her judgment.
• Pragmatic moral sense: Though she respects procedure, she ultimately upholds the spirit of justice over its letter, a stance made explicit in her final decision regarding Casey and the Royce case.

Character Journey

Wilma begins as the sober counterpoint to Casey’s spiraling paranoia—an institutional check on an unreliable narrator. Her arc turns when she opens a confidential vein of the case, trusting Casey and Boone with details of a broader pattern at Lake Greene. That shift transforms her from skeptical gatekeeper to the investigation’s stabilizing center. As the truth surfaces about Len Bradley, Wilma recalibrates once more: she weighs the harm, the evidence she can actually use, and the costs of pursuing a case that cannot be cleanly prosecuted. Her ultimate choice to give Casey an “out” marks a decisive evolution—from strict rule-follower to an officer who recognizes when compassion better serves justice than a doomed legal fight.

Key Relationships

• Casey Fletcher: What starts as mutual irritation—Wilma sees Casey as a celebrity drunk jeopardizing an active investigation—gradually becomes grudging respect. When Casey’s observations prove essential, Wilma reframes her as an imperfect but valuable witness, and in the end extends mercy by refusing to weaponize evidence that would only muddy justice.
• Boone Conrad: Wilma and Boone share an old, durable trust. She shepherded him through sobriety and defended his innocence, and because he vouches for Casey, Wilma listens longer than another detective might—her personal loyalty nudging the case forward.
• Katherine Royce and Tom Royce: As lead detective, Wilma treats the Royces as both a domestic unit and a potential crime scene, separating emotion from inference. Tom’s disappearance sharpens her procedural instincts, while Katherine’s vulnerability anchors the case’s urgency and ethical stakes.

Defining Moments

Wilma’s most important scenes chart her movement from procedural skeptic to morally attuned ally.

• Initial interrogation of Casey: In the “Now” frame, she questions Casey about Tom’s disappearance, laying down boundaries around evidence, testimony, and legal exposure. Why it matters: It establishes her as the adult in the room—clear-eyed, controlled, and unwilling to let voyeurism drive the case.
• Revealing the serial killer investigation: She confides the classified pattern—Megan Keene, Toni Burnett, Sue Ellen Stryker, and a Manhattan postcard—folding Casey and Boone into a larger canvas. Why it matters: The disclosure signals trust and shifts the book from a marital mystery to a serial predator hunt, with Wilma as its steady axis.
• Confronting Casey’s break-in: Wilma’s fury over the tainted Royce house isn’t bluster; she explains how illegal searches poison evidence, weakening any future prosecution. Why it matters: It’s a tutorial in real-world justice—evidence must be admissible, or the truth can’t stand up in court.
• The final boat scene: After the truth about Len emerges, Wilma lets the postcard “get lost” and urges Casey to take the out. Why it matters: Her choice resolves Casey’s arc of Guilt and Atonement while revealing Wilma’s ultimate allegiance—not to procedure for its own sake, but to a just outcome.

Symbolism & Significance

Wilma personifies law, order, and the sober pursuit of objective truth within a narrative steeped in Deception and Misleading Appearances. Her cool demeanor, sensible wardrobe, and methodical questioning operate as a counter-spell to rumor and superstition. By the end, her willingness to temper the law with compassion reframes justice as something living and humane rather than merely procedural.

Essential Quotes

“If a lifetime of Flintstones jokes teaches you anything, it’s deep patience.” Wilma turns a corny joke into a credo. The line encapsulates her unflappability—an earned, practiced patience that lets her navigate unreliable witnesses and escalating stakes without being swept up in panic.

“Let me do my job, Casey. It’s our best chance of getting Katherine back alive. So if you know anything about where her husband is, please tell me.” This is Wilma’s ethos in a sentence: prioritize the victim, follow the process, extract actionable facts. The plea is compassionate but firm, translating personal urgency into focused investigative momentum.

“There are laws against spying on people, you know.” She punctures Casey’s romanticized “observation” with the blunt reality of criminal liability. It’s both a warning and a boundary, reminding us that good intentions can still sabotage justice.

“What I’m about to tell you is a lot like that. I’m going to trust you with classified information. And you’re going to reward that trust by doing nothing and saying nothing and just letting me do my job. Deal?” Here Wilma calibrates trust with control: she shares sensitive intel but sets strict terms. The moment signals a pivotal alliance while underscoring the delicate balance between public help and procedural integrity.

“You might have just fucked up my entire investigation... Unless you found Katherine Royce herself, I don’t want to know. You understand me? The more shit you say and do means the less I’ll be able to legally present to a judge and prosecutor.” Raw and precise, this outburst doubles as a legal lesson on admissibility. By refusing tainted details, Wilma protects the case’s viability—an investigator’s discipline overriding the temptations of narrative convenience.

“I’m giving you an out, Casey. Take it.” Nine words that reveal Wilma’s final evolution. She chooses a humane resolution over a futile, damaging prosecution, proving that her ultimate loyalty is to justice, not just its machinery.