Northern Lights

were rude."
    "I was. And distracted. To be frank, I've got a lot on my mind just now. Patrick Galloway's murder, Max's apparent suicide." He shook his head, as if overwhelmed. "When I signed on for this job, I expected to be handling, well, at worst the sort of theft you've experienced."
    "Tragic." Ed sat now and was gracious enough to gesture Nate to a chair. "It's so damn tragic and shocking. Max was a friend, a good one."
    He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I thought I knew him and had no idea, no clue, that he was contemplating suicide. Leaving his wife, his kids that way." He held up his hands, a kind of silent apology. "I guess I'm more upset about it than I've wanted to admit, and it's been eating at me. I owe you an apology, too."
    "Not necessary."
    "I've let this theft build up. Defense mechanism. It's easier to get riled about that than think about Max. I've been trying to help Carrie with the details on his memorial and some of the finances. A lot of paperwork comes along with death. It's hard. It's hard to deal with it."
    "Nothing harder than burying a friend. You knew him a long time."
    "A long time. Good times. Our kids have grown up together. And this on top of finding out about Pat . . ."
    "You knew him, too."
    He smiled a little. "Before I married Arlene. Or as she'd say, before she
    tamed me. I wasn't always the solid citizen and family man I am now. Pat was . . . an adventure. Those were good times, too. In their way."
    He looked around his office as if it belonged to someone else, and he couldn't quite remember how he'd come to be there. "It doesn't seem possible. None of it."
    "It's been a shock for everyone to find out about Galloway."
    "I thought he'd taken off—everyone did—and it didn't surprise me. Not really. He was restless, reckless.That's what made him so appealing."
    "You climbed with him."
    "God." Ed sat back now. "I used to love to climb. The thrill and the misery. Still do love it, but I rarely have, or take, the time. I've been teaching my son."
    "I've heard Galloway was good."
    "Very good. Though that recklessness was there. A little too much of it for comfort for me, even when I was thirty."
    "Do you have any thoughts on who would've been climbing with him that February?"
    "None, and believe me, I have thought about it since we heard the news. I suspect he might have picked up someone, or a group, and taken them up for a winter climb. It was the sort of thing he might do on impulse, to earn a little money, and for the buzz. And one of them killed him, God knows why." He shook his head. "But aren't the State Police handling that investigation?"
    "They are. I'm just curious, unofficially."
    "I doubt they'll ever find out who it was, or why. Sixteen years. God, how things change," he murmured. "You hardly notice as they do. You know I ran the bank single-handed at one time, lived here, too. Kept the money in that safe right over there."
    He gestured to a black floor safe.
    "I didn't know that."
    "I was twenty-seven when I landed here. Going to carve my place out of the wilderness, civilize it to my liking." He smiled now. "Guess I did just that. You know, the Hopps and Judge Royce were my first customers. Took a lot of faith for them to put their money in my hands. I never forgot it. But we had a vision, and we built this town out of it."
    "It's a good town."
    "Yes, it is, and I'm proud of my part in making it. Old Man Hidel was here, with the original Lodge. He banked with me, too, after a while. Other people came along. Peach with her third, no it was her second husband. They lived out in the bush awhile, came here for supplies and company from time to time. She came back for good when he died. Otto, Bing, Deb and Harry. Takes strength of character and vision to make a life here."
    "Yes, it does."
    "Well . . ." He drew air in through his nose."Pat had vision, of his own kind, and he was a character. I don't know about that strength. He was an entertaining bastard, though. I hope this will all be put to rest properly. Do you think we'll ever know, for certain, what happened up there?"
    "Odds aren't favorable. But I think Coben will give it the proper time and effort. He'll look for the pilot, and anyone who might have seen Galloway in the days before he went up. They might want to talk to you, about who he used as a pilot on his climbs."
    "It would've been Jacob, most usually. But surely if Jacob had taken him up, he'd have reported it when Pat didn't come back." He