Northern Lights

and I said, 'Jim, the chief 's at The Lodge. Go get him.' Carrie was hysterical. I sat her down, held her down at first because she wanted to go back to Max. Then I got her some water and just stayed there until you came in. That's it."
    "Any of you go in the room?"
    "No. Well, Carrie was just inside the room. She was standing maybe, I don't know, a step or two inside. She was holding a paper plate in each hand. She'd dropped the sandwiches and was just standing there screaming, with a plate in each hand."
    "How long between the time you heard her screaming and the time you reached her?"
    "Maybe thirty seconds. Nate, she sounded like someone was carving her up with a knife. We both reacted. We were through the door fast. Probably less than thirty."
    "Okay. I may need to talk to you again, and the State cop who's coming in will want to. Stay reachable. And I'd like to keep this quiet. Not much chance of it, but I'd like to."
    "I'm going to go on into school." He checked his watch in an absent gesture. "Already late, but maybe it'll keep my mind off it. I'll be there most of the day."
    "Appreciate the help."
    "He always seemed so harmless," John said as he reached for his coat. "Benign, if you know what I mean. Always looking for a story in a place like this. Town gossip, local color, births. Deaths. I'd have said he was a contented man, running his little paper, raising his children."
    "Hard to see under the surface sometimes."
    "No doubt about it."
    He went in to Jim next, corroborated John's story. Once he'd sent the man on his way, Nate sat down on the bunk next to Otto.
    "I've got Peter down at the clinic. I'm going to leave him there for now. He's a little shaken, and I was hard on him. I need you to start a canvass. Work your way out from the paper, talk to people who live nearby. Ask if anyone heard a gunshot last night. We're working on between nine P.M. and one A.M. right now. I want to know if anyone saw Max or anyone else around the building. When, where, who. If they heard a car, if they heard voices, if they heard or saw any damn thing, I want to know."
    "State coming in?"
    "Yeah."
    Otto's face settled into bulldog lines. "I don't think that's right."
    "Right or not, that's the way it is. Give Peter an hour, then pull him
    in to work the canvass with you. Ken can be trusted to keep the body locked away. Did you talk to Carrie?"
    "Tried to. Didn't get much."
    "It's all right. I'll talk to her now." He rose. "Otto, did Max know Patrick Galloway?"
    "I don't know." He frowned. "Yeah, sure he did. It's hard remembering back that far. But it seems to me Max came along the summer before Pat disappeared. Was murdered," he corrected. "Max worked for a paper in Anchorage and decided he wanted his own rag, small-town deal. That's the story, anyway."
    "Okay. Start the canvass."
    As Nate approached his office door, he thought he heard singing. Crooning, he corrected, the way you might croon to a baby. Opening his door, he saw Carrie stretched out on a blanket on the floor, her head pillowed in Peach's ample lap. Peach stroked her hair and crooned.
    She looked up when Nate entered. "Best I could do," she murmured. "Poor thing's broken to bits. Sleeping now. I, ah, happened to find some Xanax in your desk drawer. I cut one in half for her."
    He had to ignore the twist of embarrassment. "I need to talk to her."
    "Hate to wake her up. Still, she should be a little calmer than she was when Otto tried. You want me to stay?"
    "No, but don't go far."
    When he sat on the floor, Peach closed a hand over his wrist. "I guess I don't have to tell you to be gentle. You'd know, and you've got that in you. But all the same . . ." She trailed off, stroked Carrie's cheek. "Carrie? Sweetie, you need to wake up now."
    Carrie opened her eyes, and they were unfocused and dull. "What is it?"
    "Nate's got to talk to you, baby. Can you sit up?"
    "I don't understand." She rubbed her eyes like a child. "I had a dream . . ." She focused on Nate now, and those eyes filled. "Not a dream. Max. My Max." When her voice broke, Nate took her hand.
    "I'm sorry, Carrie. I know this is hard, and I'm sorry. You want some water? Anything?"
    "No. No. There's nothing." She pushed herself up, buried her face in her hands. "There's nothing."
    Nate rose, helped Peach struggle her way to her feet. "I'll be right outside if you need me," she said and went out, closing the door quietly behind her.
    "Do you want a chair, or do you want to stay where you are?"
    "I