Once downstairs, he checked the fire. It had burned down to coals, and he stirred them until they glowed red, then packed the stove with more wood. The supply in the house was running low, and he made a mental note to restock it from the pile outside. After he had finished, he got his jacket and gloves on quickly and stepped through the door, locking it behind him.

The sky was a dull gray in the early morning light, and the wind continued to gust, dancing along the top of the porch and stirring the snow across the driveway. He ducked into it and pulled the collar of his jacket up to cover his ears, walking quickly to the car.

Once he hit the main road, he switched on his headlights, trying to cut into the gloom that blanketed the ground. The car’s dashboard clock read seven thirty-two. The sun was up by now, but it was difficult to tell through the cloud cover. He would be early, but that was okay. He needed some time alone, and maybe a cup of coffee.

By the time he hit the outskirts of the town forty minutes later, the sky had begun to spit snow, hard little granules that bounced off the windshield and hood of the car, and the wind had picked up even more. The roads were clear of traffic, and he drove down the long hill, taking the left towards downtown, without seeing anyone. It was eerie, almost as if there wasn’t a soul left in St. Boudin. The clock on the dash read ten past eight.

As he pulled into the parking lot of the Railway Cafe (parking in very nearly the same spot where his wife had parked several days before), he noticed that the windows glowed cheerily, and was relieved that the place was open for business this early. A good, warm cup of coffee, he thought. And maybe a donut or two.

And after settling down in one of the corner booths (he and a large waitress with gray hair were the only people there), he ordered just that. Soon enough, both Flint and then Amanda Seigel would arrive, and they would have plenty to talk about. He hoped he could help her find who she was looking for, or at least point her onto the right track.

As it turned out, her track and his were one and the same.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN