“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I mean, I don’t even have an offer yet. I’m so excited, though. I’ve had trouble focusing all afternoon. This could be my best Christmas present ever, Mike.”

“It puts the Nintendo I bought you to shame.”

“You’re upset.”

“I was trying to make a joke. I’m thrilled for you, Dani. Really. I know how hard you’ve worked for this opportunity. You deserve it.”

“You’re upset,” she said again.

“It’s been a long day.”

“Is Shadow all right?”

“He’s healthier than me. But we’re still not home yet.”

“Where are you?”

“You ever hear of a charming place called Pill Hill in Stratford?”

“Vaguely,” she said. “I’m guessing a few dealers might live there. What have you been doing?”

“Wasting my time, mostly.”

When I’d called, I’d thought of talking her through the events of my day, telling her about the crazy characters I had met. I’d had an idea of engaging her in the puzzle. But I found now that I didn’t have the desire.

“Have you had Shadow with you this whole time?”

“He’s been sedated until a little while ago.”

“You shouldn’t keep him cooped up like that.”

“So he’s been telling me.”

“Jesus, Mike.”

Any thought I’d had of confronting her with the rumor her mom was spreading around Pennacook was gone. We were past that now.

“I’ll give you a call when I get home.” I sounded tired in my own ears. “I want to hear more about what Jemison said.”

“Maybe it would be better if we talked tomorrow, after the interview,” she said. “I’ve got to study tonight, learn more about him and what he did in Indiana. I want to be the best-prepared job applicant he’s ever met.”

“Just be Dani Tate,” I said. “If he doesn’t recognize how great you are, then you don’t want the job anyway.”

“You’ve always been in my corner, Mike. You’ve been such a steppingstone in my life.”

A steppingstone?

“You should head home soon, too,” she said. “There’s supposed to be snow tonight. The roads will be slick, and we’re putting out extra troopers. I’m so glad I don’t work the night shift anymore.”

We said our goodbyes. Only later did I realize she never asked what had brought me to Pill Hill.

31

The new sled I have stolen lacks the raw power of Tori’s. It is an older Yamaha, one of the base trail models, fireplug red, with a lower windshield than I am used to. It’s a practical all-purpose snowmobile, not a flat-out suicide machine. I won’t be outracing anyone on this nag.