tightened their grip on their poles, and raised the tips of their skis. “You’ve got to plan ahead for night skiing, is all. You’ve got to watch the weather. Especially if you’re going for those huge stashes of powder underneath the power lines.” He pointed with his poles as they slid down the ramp. Stacey followed their angle, past the abandoned fire tower, up over the trees, to the spot where a line of transmission towers stalked over the mountains like giant robots from another planet. She’d seen them from town a million times but had never noticed them from here. It had never occurred to her that you might reach them, much less get over there and use the bare swath of land under them as your own personal, untouched, pristine, virginal ski slope.
“You’re on, pal,” she said. “Oh, you are so on.” She stood gazing up in wonder, and before she knew what she was saying she had asked him to have a quick bite to eat beforehand. Or maybe afterward. Whatever.
How was he supposed to refuse? So now dinner was on, too.
* * *
“Hey, Sheriff.” The counterman, in shirtsleeves and a white apron, was working on his second or third cigarette. He turned to see Guy and Manny come out, both of them just as underdressed for the temperature as he was.
“Hey, Earl.”
“You need something? Can I—?”
“Nope. Mr. Seville, here, just thought he might like to grab a smoke.”
“Right. Gotcha.”
Manny fired up.
“You need anything, though—”
“Thanks. We’re covered.”
The sky was bright and blue and cloudless, and they stood in a line against the plate-glass window looking at it. They couldn’t see the runs from here, but every now and then a car passed and turned up the access road to the mountain.
Manny sucked on his cigarette and blew smoke from the corner of his mouth. “You got someplace else to be?” he asked Guy.
“It doesn’t look to me like a heavy crime day.”
“You never know.”
“How about you, Earl?” Guy turned to the counterman. “You seen any criminal activity this morning? Anybody suspicious lurking around the place?”
The counterman just laughed, blowing smoke.
Guy turned back to Manny. “I’ll have you know that Earl, here, is one of my top informants. So I guess I’ve got a little time on my hands after all.”
Earl laughed, then shouldered the door open and went back inside, saying he had to use the john.
When they were alone again, Guy cleared his throat against the cold and without turning his head to Manny said right out, “So he’s a schmuck, huh?”
“Earl?” said Manny. “That guy runs the place?”
“Not Earl, no. And Earl doesn’t run the place. He just runs the counter, five days a week. Kind of like you and the commercial.”
“Ah.”
“I’m talking about Harper Stone. You said he was a schmuck.”
“I did.”
“How would you mean that?”
“Hey,” Manny said, “is this an interrogation? It’s no crime not liking a person.”
“I know that,” said Guy. “I know that full well.”
“So is this an interrogation?”
“I don’t think so,” said Guy. “Does it seem like an interrogation to you? I’m just trying to learn everything I can about Harper Stone, and right now you’re the best source of information I’ve got.” He watched Manny grind out his cigarette on the concrete, and kept watching him until Manny got self-conscious and picked up the butt, making sure it was cold before putting it into the trash can. Some people needed law enforcement coverage all the time. “That’s kind of a shame, don’t you think?”
“What?”
“That you’re the best source I’ve got. A guy comes to a strange town where he has no friends or family or anything, and he disappears off the face of the earth. Leaving a guy like you—a business associate who knew him for what, maybe a long weekend?—the only one I can talk to about him.”
“There’s Brian.”
“There’s Brian. Right. Right you
“You’re on, pal,” she said. “Oh, you are so on.” She stood gazing up in wonder, and before she knew what she was saying she had asked him to have a quick bite to eat beforehand. Or maybe afterward. Whatever.
How was he supposed to refuse? So now dinner was on, too.
* * *
“Hey, Sheriff.” The counterman, in shirtsleeves and a white apron, was working on his second or third cigarette. He turned to see Guy and Manny come out, both of them just as underdressed for the temperature as he was.
“Hey, Earl.”
“You need something? Can I—?”
“Nope. Mr. Seville, here, just thought he might like to grab a smoke.”
“Right. Gotcha.”
Manny fired up.
“You need anything, though—”
“Thanks. We’re covered.”
The sky was bright and blue and cloudless, and they stood in a line against the plate-glass window looking at it. They couldn’t see the runs from here, but every now and then a car passed and turned up the access road to the mountain.
Manny sucked on his cigarette and blew smoke from the corner of his mouth. “You got someplace else to be?” he asked Guy.
“It doesn’t look to me like a heavy crime day.”
“You never know.”
“How about you, Earl?” Guy turned to the counterman. “You seen any criminal activity this morning? Anybody suspicious lurking around the place?”
The counterman just laughed, blowing smoke.
Guy turned back to Manny. “I’ll have you know that Earl, here, is one of my top informants. So I guess I’ve got a little time on my hands after all.”
Earl laughed, then shouldered the door open and went back inside, saying he had to use the john.
When they were alone again, Guy cleared his throat against the cold and without turning his head to Manny said right out, “So he’s a schmuck, huh?”
“Earl?” said Manny. “That guy runs the place?”
“Not Earl, no. And Earl doesn’t run the place. He just runs the counter, five days a week. Kind of like you and the commercial.”
“Ah.”
“I’m talking about Harper Stone. You said he was a schmuck.”
“I did.”
“How would you mean that?”
“Hey,” Manny said, “is this an interrogation? It’s no crime not liking a person.”
“I know that,” said Guy. “I know that full well.”
“So is this an interrogation?”
“I don’t think so,” said Guy. “Does it seem like an interrogation to you? I’m just trying to learn everything I can about Harper Stone, and right now you’re the best source of information I’ve got.” He watched Manny grind out his cigarette on the concrete, and kept watching him until Manny got self-conscious and picked up the butt, making sure it was cold before putting it into the trash can. Some people needed law enforcement coverage all the time. “That’s kind of a shame, don’t you think?”
“What?”
“That you’re the best source I’ve got. A guy comes to a strange town where he has no friends or family or anything, and he disappears off the face of the earth. Leaving a guy like you—a business associate who knew him for what, maybe a long weekend?—the only one I can talk to about him.”
“There’s Brian.”
“There’s Brian. Right. Right you
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