On Thin Ice by Linda Hall

house,” Alec said. “I’m a police officer.” He got out his badge and ID and showed them to her. “We’re looking for someone.” He described the man that both Marlene and Polly had seen and asked Maxine if anyone with this description had been through the house.
    She looked from one to the other. “Well, I don’t know, Officer. Lots of people have been shown the house.” Was it his imagination or was she becoming cagey and cautious?
    “Black hair,” Megan said. “He would have had noticeable thick, black hair.”
    “As I said, there have been a lot of people who’ve gone through that house. I would imagine that quite a few of them had thick, black hair.”
    “This would be a single man, someone alone,” Alec added.
    “This is really important,” Megan said. “Have you had some open houses? Sometimes there are guest books at those.”
    Alec wondered if this conversation was hopeless. If the black-haired man had been clever enough to kill three people, then he would not be so stupid as to sign a guest book with his real name.
    “We’ve had lots of open houses. And yes, I have guest books,” Maxine said.
    “Would you mind showing them to us?” Alec asked.
    After a short pause, where she appeared to be weighing his question, she said, “Yes, I would mind. Do you have a warrant for this sort of thing?”
    When Alec realized there was no more to be gained here without a warrant, he cut the conversation short, thanked Maxine and said goodbye. “And if you change your mind about the guest book, please give me a call.” He laid a business card on her desk and he and Megan left.
    “So,” Megan said later in the car. “Whoever sent me the picture just copied it off the Internet? I really don’t think he made an offer at all.”
    “You could be right. Then again, he could be the person who couldn’t get financing.”
    The sky was still light when they pulled into a fast-food restaurant in Bangor. They both ordered cheeseburgers. He remembered she loved cheeseburgers. Over their quick meal they reviewed the case, the yearbook, the guest list and what they thought they had accomplished. Maybe not a lot. Maybe more than they knew.
    He wanted to ask her again if she thought there was a chance for them. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Right now it was enough to be with her.
    “In answer to your question about whether there’s a chance for us—maybe,” Megan said as they walked back to the car together.
    He felt his heart soar.
    Later as they neared the exit that led to a large rest area and campground, Alec drove that way on a whim.
    “Where we going?” she asked.
    “Time to stretch my legs. Long legs and a short car make for a long trip,” he said.
    He took the road that led down to the campsite and rest area. Everything was closed, of course, but he knew that from this place they could see Mount Katahdin. He pointed it out to Megan.
    “Do you remember Mount Katahdin, Meggie?”
    “How could I forget?”
    They couldn’t drive too far. The road had only been minimally plowed. When they got as far as the plowing would allow, Alec stopped the car. They got out and walked a few hundred feet. From this vantage point they had a clear view of the snowcapped mountain that had meant so much to them at one time.
    Her eyes on Mount Katahdin, Megan said, “Of course I remember that mountain. I could never forget that trail, and hiking with all the kids.” She smiled. “I never thought I would make it.”
    They talked for a while, reminiscing about the group of kids who had hiked up the mountain with them on that day. Alec surprised himself by even mentioning a few specific names. They stood in companionable quiet together remembering the day it all began for them.
    “That was a good summer,” he said.
    “A very good summer.” She wasn’t looking at himwhen she said this. Her gaze instead had turned toward the mountain. He touched her hair and gently turned her face toward him. He looked down into