Northern Lights

bank.
    Somewhere in the wide, wide world, Nate imagined there was a place colder than Lunacy, Alaska, in February. And he hoped to God he never paid a visit there.
    The sky had cleared, which meant any stingy heat had lifted up and away. But the sun streamed, so with luck they might hit a sweaty twenty degrees by midafternoon. And the sun, Nate saw, was ringed by a rainbow circle, a colorful halo of reds and blues and golds. What Peter had told him was called a sun dog.
    People were out and about, taking advantage of the bright morning to do their business. Some of them called out greetings to him or flipped waves.
    He saw Johnny Trivani, the hopeful groom, chatting on the sidewalk with Bess Mackie, and Deb outside the store washing windows as if it had been a fine spring day.
    He lifted a hand to Mitch Dauber, who sat in the window of KLUN spinning records and observing life in Lunacy. He expected Mitch would have something philosophical to say about the moose before the end of the day.
    February. It struck him as he stood on the corner of Lunatic and Denali. Somehow it had gotten to be so far into February they were nearly to March. He was coming right up on the line of his sixty days, his own point of return. And was still here.
    More than here, he thought. Settling into being here.
    Thoughtful, he crossed over and into the bank.
    There were two customers doing business at the bank counter, and another picking up mail from the post office. From the way they and the tellers eyeballed him, Nate imagined Ed had still been in a temper when he'd come in.
    In the silence that fell, he nodded, then stepped through the short, swinging gate that separated the bank lobby from the offices.
    It didn't boast a drive-through, and there were no ATMs lurking outside, but the bank had a nice carpet, a few local paintings on the wall and a general air of efficiency.
    He walked to the door that had Ed Woolcott's name on a shiny brass plaque, and knocked.
    Ed opened it himself, sniffed. "You'll have to wait. I'm on the phone."
    "Fine." When the door shut in his face, Nate simply slipped his hands into his pockets and studied the paintings.
    He noted one of a totem in a snowy woods was signed by Ernest Notti. One of Peter's relatives? he wondered. He still had a lot to learn about his Lunatics.
    He glanced around. There was no protective glass between teller and customers, but there were security cameras. He'd checked the place out already, before he'd opened his own accounts.
    Now that conversation had started up again, he tuned into snatches. Movie night, an upcoming bake sale to benefit the school band, the weather, the Iditarod. Small-town small talk, and nothing like what he would have heard if he'd walked into one of the branches of his bank in Baltimore.
    Ed kept him waiting ten minutes, a little power flex, and was stonefaced, with a little flush on his cheekbones, when he opened the door.
    "I want you to be aware I've made a formal complaint to the mayor."
    "Okay."
    "I don't like your attitude, Chief Burke."
    "Noted, Mr. Woolcott. If that's all you want to tell me, I need to get back to the station."
    "What I want is to know just what you're doing about the theft of my property."
    "Otto's handling that."
    "My property was vandalized and damaged. Expensive fishing gear has been stolen. I believe I'm entitled to the attention of the chief of police."
    "And you've got it. A report has been duly filed, and the officer in charge is pursuing the matter. The theft isn't being taken lightly by me or my staff. We have a detailed description of the stolen property, and if the thief is dumb enough to use it, talk about it or try to sell it within my jurisdiction, we'll make an arrest and recover your property."
    Ed's eyes were slits in his rawhide face. "Maybe if I was female, you'd take more interest."
    "Actually, I don't think you'd be my type. Mr. Woolcott," he continued, "you're upset, and you're angry. You've got a right to be. You were violated. The fact that it was, most likely, kids being stupid doesn't lessen that violation. We'll do everything we can to get your property back. If it helps, I'll apologize for being abrupt with you earlier. I was concerned that children might be injured, and that took priority. You have two children in that school. I assume their safety would take precedence over an update on your stolen property."
    The flush had died down, and a long huff told Nate the crisis had passed. "Be that as it may, you