The jangle of the transom bells caused the dog on the floor to raise its head. Then the thwack of a flyswatter reminded Byyle that Zeffie, the old woman who owned the place and lived in the building, was the local nosy busybody.

“Hello, friend,” Zeffie said from behind the counter.

“Hi,” Byyle half whispered. “Before I pay, I was wondering, do you sell gas cans?”

“At the back, on the bottom shelf,” Zeffie said with another whip-snap of swatter. Then the dog barked once, causing her and Byyle to look through the window as an SUV pulled into the station, stopping at the pumps. “Well, how about that,” Zeffie said. “All of a sudden I’m busy.”

Moving to the back, Byyle searched but only found fishing tackle boxes, cleaning fluids, and a display of small tool sets.

“Near the corner,” Zeffie called out.

Byyle moved to the correct aisle and the correct site, where he found two red plastic five-gallon gas cans. He took them both.

Returning to the front, he held them up.

“I’ll buy these and fill them up, then come back in to pay for everything.”

Glancing out the window at the pumps and the SUV, Byyle was halted by a high-ringing alarm in the back of his mind.

In his haste to leave the property, he’d overlooked something.

Something critical that I’d forgotten to disconnect.

“That’s fine,” Zeffie said.

“Pardon me?” Byyle said.

“It’s fine for you to fill the gas cans before settling up.”

“Right. Sorry.” Byyle offered a smile and started for the door.

“Say,” Zeffie said. “You’re new. I haven’t seen you around. Do you live out here? Are you a newcomer to the Northeast Kingdom?”

“I’m from Newport,” Byyle rasped. “I’m just passing through. Taking in the scenery.”

“Where you headed?”

“Burlington, to see family.”

“Is that so?”

Zeffie was assessing her customer, who’d suddenly seem transfixed by the man filling his SUV at the pumps.

“Something wrong?” Zeffie asked.

CHAPTER 64

Northeast Kingdom, Vermont

I can’t spend much time up here.

Wyatt unscrewed his SUV’s gas cap, unhooked the hose from the pump at Zeffie’s, and inserted the nozzle.

As the fuel flowed, he considered his strategy to get as much information as possible here, and then get back to Waterbury. He glanced at the sedan parked on the other side of the island.

I’ll file a story with the exclusive interviews with Cass and Gibby, as potential suspects, include all the Moore and Hydra—

Wyatt heard a noise.

Not sure what it was, he looked at the nozzle. Maybe he’d shifted the spout in the filler neck.

Hearing the noise again, he released his grip on the lever, cutting the flow, and listened in the silence. A muffled thud.