Tritia kept her eyes on Howard as she moved forward in line, feeling strangely cold. The postmaster’s eyes were red and watery, his cheeks flushed, and it was clear that he had been both shocked and deeply hurt by the tragedy. His voice, ordinarily loud and boisterous, was a subdued whisper, and his hands shook as he handed out stamps and change. Bob Ronda had been not only his employee but his best friend, and it was a rare Saturday night that the two of them were not seen at The Corral, listening to the country swing of the Tonto Trailblazers, downing a few cool ones, and discussing the fate of the world. It was no secret that Howard’s wife had left him two years ago, though he continued to insist that she was in Tucson attending to her invalid mother, and since that time, he and Ronda had been nearly inseparable. Ellen, Ronda’s wife, had even complained that he spent more time with Howard than he did with her.

The line continued to move forward until she and Grady were at its head.

“Next,” the postmaster said.

Grady moved forward. “I need to pick up my mail,” he told the postmaster.

Tritia’s eyes were caught by a sign taped to the front of the counter: “Mail will be delivered on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays until a new postal carrier is appointed. The post office will temporarily be open on Tuesdays and Thursdays only. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

Next to the sign was a funeral notice for Bob Ronda.

“How long’s it going to be before you hire a new mailman?” Grady asked.

“I’m not going to be hiring one,” the postmaster said. “The main office in Phoenix holds an open enrollment once a year and they do the hiring. They’re going to appoint someone. I called in this morning and put in an application for a new carrier, but it’ll probably be a few weeks before they send someone down.”

“It’s a damn shame what happened to Ronda,” Grady said. “A damn shame.”

Howard nodded silently.

Grady got his mail, waved good-bye, and Tritia moved to the front counter. “How are you, Howard?” she asked kindly, putting her hand on his.

He shrugged, his eyes blurry and unfocused. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”

“I didn’t hear until now. It’s—it’s hard to believe.”

“Yeah.”

“Bob just didn’t seem… I mean, it didn’t seem like he’d do something like that.”