“Well, you can’t go through,” the officer said. There were white spots on his red cheeks, the beginnings of frostbite. “Road’s closed both ways now. There’s an accident ahead—a semi stretched out across the highway. No one’s getting through today. You can wait in the café until the storm quits and we can get you back home.”

They parked at the low-roofed white building with the sign for motel cabins, next to the single-pump gas station. Gina thought about the phone message, about mentioning it while they were still alone, but instead she got out into the storm.

The café was steamy inside with bodies, the linoleum slick with melted snow. Although the room was packed, it wasn’t loud. Everyone seemed trapped and tired of it, no giddiness of adventure in the hum of their voices. Gina shook off her boots on the wet rubber mat and dodged the tables to the bathroom, where the roll of toilet paper had fallen into the melted snow on the floor.

When she came out again, a man stepped from the men’s door opposite: tall with a dark mustache, in a heavy denim jacket with a dirty sheepskin collar. He looked her in the eye and hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, and then he moved on.

Chase had found two seats at a table by the window, next to an old man and an old woman with hard-worn faces, and Gina sat down.

“Jesus, I never seen anything like that,” the old man was saying. He rubbed chapped hands over eyes gadrooned with wrinkles. His hair was bushy and white, and he had a truck-stop gimme cap on the table.

“We were going west right behind the semi,” his wife said, voice low. “A car stopped on the road ahead because they couldn’t see, and the semi piled right into them. Killed the man and the woman in the car. We ended up in the ditch to miss the wreck.” The woman dropped her voice further. “The driver of the semi’s here,” she said. She cast her eyes to the center of the crowded room.

Gina knew who it would be, and waited until Chase had looked, then turned to see the tall man with the dirty sheepskin who had given her the hard look by the bathrooms. He sat alone at a small table, drinking coffee. He caught her eye and she nodded at him, feeling awkward, and looked away.

“Just killed two people,” the old man said under his breath. “Poor sucker. I don’t know how he stands it in here.”