Northern Lights

After tapping the spoon on the side of the mug, she sampled.
    "That's better." Then she kept both hands around the mug, as she leaned intimately toward Nate. "When I first found out about Pat, I went a little crazy inside. I'd have been ready to believe you if you'd told me Skinny Jim had put that ax in him—and he didn't come along until five or six years after Pat had been gone. But I've calmed down some."
    "That's good," Nate said, and continued to eat.
    "Maybe knowing I can bring him back here and bury him when the ground's ready helped. I like you, Nate, even though you wouldn't give me a tumble. I like you well enough to tell you you're not doing anybody any good with all this."
    Nate slathered butter on a roll. "And what would 'all this' consist of, Charlene?"
    "You know what I'm saying—this talk about us having a murderer running around. Something like that gets whispered about enough, people might start to believe it. It's bad for business. The tourists aren't going to come here if they think they could get murdered in their beds."
    "Cissy?" he called with his eyes still on Charlene's. "Can I get another cup of coffee here? Is that what it comes down to, Charlene? It comes down to money. To your profit-and-loss statement."
    "We've got to make a living here. We've got—"
    She broke off as Cissy set another mug on the table, filled it with coffee. "You need anything else, Nate?"
    "No, thanks."
    "We do a lot of business here over the summer. We've got to if we don't want to live on the PFD all winter, and winter's long. I've got to be practical, Nate. Pat's gone. Max killed him. I'm not letting myself hold that against Carrie. I wanted to, but I'm not letting myself. She's lost her man, too. But Max killed Pat. God knows why, but he did."
    She picked up her coffee again, sipped it while she gazed out the dark window. "Pat took him up there, some wild hair, I expect. Max looking for a story or article or some shit, and Pat figuring he could have an adventure and make a few dollars. The mountain can make you crazy. That's what happened."
    When he said nothing, she touched a hand to his. "I've thought about it, like you asked me to. And I remember that Max didn't come in here for damn near a month that winter. Maybe more. Back then, this was the only place for miles in any direction you could get a hot meal, and he was a regular. I used to wait on him almost every night. But he didn't come in."
    Absently, she reached over, broke a small chunk off Nate's dinner roll. "He called in orders a few times," she said as she nibbled on bread. "We didn't do deliveries, still don't, but Karl, he was soft-hearted. He ran the food over to the paper himself. He told me Max looked sick and a little crazy. I didn't pay any attention. I was brooding over Pat and busy trying to make ends meet. But you told me to think back, and I did, and I remember that."
    "All right."
    "You aren't paying attention to me."
    "I heard everything you said." He met her eyes. "Who else didn't come in much that February?"
    She let out an impatient breath. "I don't know, Nate. I only thought about Max because he's dead. And because I was remembering, all of a sudden, that Carrie and I both got married that summer. The summer after Pat was gone. That's what made me think of it."
    "Okay. Now think about people who are still alive."
    "I think about you." She laughed, waved a hand. "Oh, don't get all tight-assed. A woman's got a right to think about a good-looking man."
    "Not when he's in love with her daughter."
    "Love?" She began to drum her fingers on the table. "Well, you are just out for all sorts of trouble, aren't you? Taking on the town council so everybody's looking at you sideways, getting Ed and Hopp all pissed off, now talking about loving Meg. She hasn't kept a man more than a month since she figured out what to do with one."
    "I guess that means I hold the current record."
    "She'll chomp a piece out of your heart then spit it right in your face."
    "My heart, my face. Why does it bother you, Charlene?"
    "I've got bigger needs than she does. Bigger, stronger needs." Her earrings spun and glinted when she tossed her head. "Meg doesn't need anything or anyone. She never did. She made it clear a long time ago she didn't need me. She'll make it clear soon enough that she doesn't need you."
    "That may be. Or it may end up I make her happy. Maybe that's what bothers you. The idea she might end up happy, and you can't quite get there."
    His hand