“What happened to Horace?” he asked.

“He died this past January,” she said, a small choke in her voice. “Heart attack. He had it crossing the street. People thought a car hit him. But Horace just fell in the crosswalk and died. Just like that. Gone. He was only fifty-three. We were high school sweethearts. Raised two kids in this house. We made plans for our old age. I’d just retired from my job at the post office, so we could travel more.”

She flashed a quick “what can you do” smile and looked away. We all have our scars and torment and ghosts. We all walk around and smile and pretend everything is okay. We are polite to strangers and share the road with them and stand in line at the supermarket and we manage to disguise the hurt and desperation. We work hard and make plans and more often than not, that all goes to hell.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Myron said.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay.”

“I know I should get rid of this stuff. Sell it. But I just can’t yet.”

Not knowing what to say, Myron went with a classic: “I understand.”

She managed a smile. “But, really, you want to know about the symbol.”

“If you don’t mind.”

Evelyn Stackman crossed the room and opened up the filing cabinet. “Horace tried to figure out what it meant. He looked up Sanskrit and Chinese and hieroglyphics, things like that. But he could never place it.”

“Where did you first see it?”

“The symbol?” Evelyn reached into the cabinet and pulled out what appeared to be the cover for a CD. “Did you know about this album?”

Myron looked at it. It was the artwork, if that was what you called it, for an album cover. He had never seen it. On the top it read, “LIVE WIRE.” Then under that in smaller print, HORSEPOWER LIVE AT MADISON SQUARE GARDEN. But that wasn’t what drew your eye. Under the letters was a strange photograph of Gabriel Wire and Lex Ryder. The shot was from the waist up, both shirtless, back-to-back with their arms folded. Lex was on the left, Gabriel on the right, both turning to look at their prospective music buyer with serious glares.

“Right before the Alista Snow tragedy, they were going to do a live album,” Evelyn said. “Were you with them then?”

Myron shook his head. “I came on later.”