Hot Rocks

observation and instinct.
    Carrying an extra twenty pounds, so he liked to eat. Since there was a bakery Danish on a napkin on his desk, his wife was probably trying to get him to diet, and he had to sneak his fixes with store-bought.
    He wore a wedding ring, his only jewelry, and his nails were clipped short. His hand was rough with calluses when it shook hers. He’d gotten to his feet to greet her and had done what he could to suck in his gut. She sent him a warm smile and noted the color that crept into his cheeks.
    He’d be a pushover.
    “Sergeant McCoy, it’s nice to see you again.”
    “Miz Tavish.”
    “Laine, please. How’s your wife?”
    “She’s fine. Just fine.”
    “And that grandbaby of yours?”
    His teeth showed in a doting smile. “Not such a baby anymore. Boy’s two now and running my daughter ragged.”
    “Such a fun age, isn’t it? Taking him fishing yet?”
    “Had him out to the river last weekend. Can’t sit still long enough yet, but he’ll learn.”
    “That’ll be great fun. My granddaddy took me fishing a couple of times, but we had a serious difference of opinion when it came to worms.”
    McCoy let out an appreciative guffaw. “Tad, he loves the worms.”
    “That’s a boy for you. Oh, I’m sorry. Sergeant, this is my friend Max Gannon.”
    “Yeah.” McCoy studied the bruised temple. “Had you a little run-in the other night.”
    “It was all a misunderstanding,” Laine said quickly. “Max came in with me this morning for a little moral support.”
    “Uh-huh.” McCoy shook hands, because Max extended one, then glanced back at Laine. “Moral support?”
    “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” She lifted her hands, looked fragile and frustrated. “Vince might have mentioned that I realized I knew William Young. The man who was killed in that awful accident outside my shop?”
    “He didn’t mention it.”
    “I just told him, and I guess it doesn’t make any difference in the—in the procedure. It wasn’t until after . . . until after that I remembered. He knew my father, when I was a child. I haven’t seen him—William—since I was, oh, ten, I guess. I was so busy when he came into the shop.”
    Her eyes went shiny with distress. “I didn’t recognize him, and I just didn’t pay that much attention. He left me his card and asked me to call him when I had the chance. Then nearly as soon as he walked out . . . I feel terrible that I didn’t remember, that I brushed him off.”
    “That’s all right now.” McCoy dug a box of tissues out of a drawer and offered it.
    “Thanks. Thank you. I want to do what I can for him now. I want to be able to tell my father I did what I could.” Those things were true. It helped to work in truth. “He didn’t have any family that I know of, so I’d like to make whatever arrangements need to be made for burial.”
    “The chief has his file, but I can check about that for you.”
    “I’d appreciate that very much. I wonder if, while I’m here, I could see his things. Is that possible?”
    “I don’t see why not. Why don’t you have a seat?” He took her arm, gently, and led her to a chair. “Just sit down, and I’ll go get them for you. Can’t let you take anything.”
    “No, no, I understand.”
    As McCoy left the room, Max sat beside her. “Smooth as butter. How well you know this cop?”
    “McCoy. I’ve met him a couple of times.”
    “Fishing?”
    “Oh, that. He has a fishing magazine tucked under his case files on the desk, so it was a reasonable guess. I’m going to arrange for Uncle Willy’s burial,” she added. “Here, I think, in Angel’s Gap, unless I can find out if there’s somewhere else he’d rather . . .”
    “I bet here would suit him fine.”
    He rose, as did she, when McCoy returned with a large carton. “He didn’t have much. Looks like he was traveling light. Clothes, wallet, watch, five keys, key ring—”
    “Oh, I think I gave him that key ring for Christmas one year.” She reached out, sniffling, then closed it into her fist. “Can you imagine? He used it all these years. Oh, and I didn’t even recognize him.”
    Clutching the keys, she sat, wept.
    “Don’t cry, Laine.”
    Max sent McCoy a look of pure male helplessness and patted Laine on the head.
    “Sometimes they gotta.” McCoy went back for the tissues. When he stepped back up, Laine reached out, took three, mopped at her face.
    “I’m sorry. This is just silly . It’s just that I’m