to know as much as I can about how Brendan was doing. This medication is something he didnât tell me about. And I canât stand that right now.â
Vernâs face became even softer. âOkay. All right. But Iâm gonna have to insist you take care of that taillight first.â
A sudden swirl of snow momentarily blocked out sight of the Chief.
I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. âMy taillight? Now?â
Vern Weathers was smiling, jowls lifted so they wrinkled his eyes. âNow, honey, thereâs already been one tragedy for the Hamilton family this year, and itâs just a baby year yet. No more, all right?â
I nodded in resignation.
âIn this weather itâs not safe for you to be driving around one backlight down. You go on over to Alâs, and heâll fix you up. When heâs done you can play yourself a little detective. Heck, if you do a good job, maybe weâll hire you on.â The Chief went silent for a second. âDonât mean to make jokes. The wife would have my head.â
I had trouble picturing tiny Mrs. Weathers even reaching the top of her tree trunk husband, let alone doing anything to his head. Vern mustâve seen it on my face, for he chuckled in agreement.
I raised my window, pushed down to trigger the blinker, and reentered the Northway, scattering snow in front of my tires. Behind me, Vern pulled out too, red lights twirling in an onslaught of flakes.
Chapter Nine
I made my way through empty streets, still but for the snow, toward the outskirts of town. They had turned slushy with salt and as I glanced in my rearview mirror, half expecting to see the police chief still behind me, I saw caramel-colored splashes instead.
Stopping at a red light, I peered through the foggy windshield.
A bait and ammo store sat directly in front of me, and just beyond it, my destination. Alâs Gas & Service occupied one corner of Water Street, across from a new Mobil. I favored the latter, where I could grab a cup of coffee after pumping my gas, but Al Meter serviced the cop cars and so I obeyed Vernâs order. For all I knew, he might check.
Things like the two stations could make Wedeskyull a tough place sometimes. The townâwhose ominous-sounding name, spoken as if someone were killing weeds, stood in stark contrast to its physical beautyâwas not an entirely peaceful place. It was divided between newcomers and natives, the Mobil half and the Alâs half. As the émigré bride of a man whose family had lived here for a hundred years, and elsewhere in the Adirondacks for a hundred before that, I didnât fit into either group.
But I loved Wedeskyullâand not only because of Brendan. There was a wealth of antique houses for me to pore over, all in differing degrees of dilapidation. Even if Iâd never made many friends of my own hereâ
any,
came Teggieâs voice, any
friends of your own
âthe architecture made a surprisingly rich substitute.
It was Brendan whoâd pointed out how many city expats poured fortunes into those places, and soon after that observation was made, my business was born.
You can do it, Chestnut
.
Ask for twenty percent commission
.
Memories. Reams of memories assailed me.
Like
Chestnut.
Iâd once asked Brendan why he called me that, and he answered dreamily, âBecause youâre my Christmas treat.â But his face held something more.
It was true that we met during finals back in school in the city, just before winter break. Brendan had bought me a bag of nuts off a cart to celebrate the end of exams.
âOne step closer to lawyerdom,â he announced.
Brendan had settled on the profession because he wanted to deal with all the people who played games with the law. At least thatâs what heâd told me when we started dating, and heâd been filling out applications, and taking the LSATs. But when the time came to choose between law schools,