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.I ran back down the hallway to get my coat and boots.It was with the greatest feeling of relief that I stepped outside into the cold winter night.I stopped by the hospital first and found Jonas sleeping in a private room, just as Claire had predicted.It was a deep, medicated sleep and I didn’t stay long.Rather than go back to the empty house, I made my way to Hadrian’s, where I knew I’d find company.A few heads turned when I walked in.I recognized Billy’s nephew Wayne sitting alone at a table in the corner.He lifted his eyes when I passed, and I sensed him watching me as I crossed to the bar.Hadrian the younger was in the act of pulling a draught of beer into a frosty stein.I settled myself onto a bar stool in front of him, where I could watch the television, which was tuned to a football game.Hadrian was wearing a blue and red plaid shirt circa Paul Bunyan, and his curly brown locks were tied back with a rubber band.He placed the beer on a tray with two other brimming steins and left to serve a table.When he came back, he wiped down the counter with a stained rag as he talked.“Evening, Maja.Sorry I missed your father’s funeral.It was stock-taking day.”“No problem.My father would rather have been with you in the pub, if he’d had any say.”“Ain’t that the truth.” Hadrian grinned, revealing an uneven row of teeth and two pointy incisors that could have doubled as paper punches.“What can I get ya?”“I’ll have a caesar—lots of spice and celery if you got any.” I hadn’t eaten the pizza Claire left in the fridge and was hungry.I watched Hadrian’s oversized hands prepare the drink with surprising dexterity.He set it on a coaster then reached under the counter and set a bowl of peanuts in front of me.“Thanks,” I said.The tabasco burned the back of my throat, just as I liked it.I set my drink down and reached for a handful of nuts.“Say, Hadrian.Did my father come here often the last while?”Hadrian leaned on the counter next to me.A mixture of Old Spice and sweat tickled my nose when he shifted positions.I put the back of my hand up to my face and tried not to sneeze.“Your father liked a drink as much as the next guy, but he’d really cut back the last few years.He still dropped in to chat and have a few beers, but not like the old days when my dad ran the bar.” Hadrian chuckled and began to tell a story about my father’s glory days but then remembered who he was talking to and clamped his mouth shut.I was just as glad not to have to hear about the nights of drinking it up with the boys that had led to him staggering into our house with pent-up rage pouring out like lava.“Was he in the week before he died?”“Not that I remember.” Hadrian made a circular motion with his index finger to someone behind me and started pouring drinks, his attention now directed to the task at hand.I lifted my face to watch the football game.Blasts of cold air caught me on the back of my neck as the door opened and shut a few times.Hadrian’s had a faithful following, and if you sat there long enough, you’d see almost everyone in town stop in for a drink.I looked sideways.Tobias was standing next to me with red cheeks and a big grin.“This seat taken?” he asked.“Help yourself,” I said, not unhappy to see him.I was still shaken from the dream and didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts.He opened his parka and removed the black toque from his head.Straddling the bar stool, he ran a hand through his grey hair and ruffled it so that it wasn’t lying flat.“Just off duty,” he said, rubbing his hands together to warm them.“Hadrian, I’ll have what’s on tap.”Tobias leaned into me.“So, you’re still here.How long you planning to stay?”“Till you find who killed my father.or hell freezes over, whichever comes first.” I frowned at him over the rim of my glass.“Ouch.Thanks, Hadrian.” Tobias lifted his glass and drank.A line of foam rimmed his lips.He licked it off slowly.“The way I see it, whoever killed your father did it in a fit of anger.If it had been premeditated, they wouldn’t have used his shovel, which was probably the closest weapon at hand.”“Maybe.I guess that makes sense.” Something was bothering me.“I’ve spoken to some people.”“Oh?”“Just casually, you know, to try to find out about my father’s last few days.” I spoke quickly, not wanting Tobias to know I’d been striking out on my own.“A few of them said my father seemed scared, or worried at the very least.Somebody might have been threatening him.”Tobias stared off as if he was pondering what I’d said.“Touchdown,” he said.“What, you’ve figured something out?”Tobias pointed up at the TV.“No, touchdown.Florida State just scored.”I punched him lightly on the biceps.“It’s coming back to me.Concentration wasn’t your strong suit in high school.”“Only if the subject interested me.” Tobias turned and looked me in the eyes.“I used to like sitting behind you in class so I could watch the way you pushed back your blonde hair when you were thinking about something and the way you’d raise your hand when nobody else could come up with the right answer.You were something back then, Maja Larson.Something to behold.” He took another sip.“I’m not liking your use of the past tense.”Tobias set his glass on the bar and grinned.“I’ll let you know if you’ve still got it after I’ve studied up for a bit.A true scholar does their research before jumping to a conclusion.”“You’ve never given up the art of bullshit, have you, Tobias Olsen?”He laughed.“It’s what sets me apart from all the others.” He reached out, took a handful of peanuts and popped them into his mouth one by one as he talked.“Nobody seems to have anything but nice things to say about your father.He worked the night shift at the border so the guys with families could have a life, and he was sociable enough.He had buddies at Hadrian’s where he spent an hour or two the evenings he wasn’t working.He kept to himself a lot this past year, but that could be a result of working nights.There is something odd, though.”“Oh? What’s that?”“Your father had a lot of money for someone who worked at the border.For instance, leaving eighty thousand to his grandson.He also had a lot of expensive sports equipment and electronics in his house, not to mention a new boat and car.”“He was frugal,” I said, but I also began to wonder where he’d gotten the money.I’d been so shocked by him leaving the property to me that I hadn’t thought much about the rest.“Perhaps my father bought those things with the expectation of selling the house and land, or maybe he got a signing bonus?”“I checked that out too.As you know by your trek to the lawyer, your father signed away his land quite recently; however, he hadn’t collected any money from the sale as of yet.That makes the fact that he didn’t owe any money to anybody even stranger.Not one red cent.Nada.He liked to pay up front in cash
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