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    He spent some of his downtime getting to know Spruce Bay. It wasn’t a big town and in a lot of ways it had let progress pull out into the fast lane and speed on by, leaving it puttering along contentedly at its own slow pace.
    One thing soon became clear. He needed a vehicle if he was going to spend any time at all here. He got a ride into town with Will Runningbear, a younger pilot. “I need to buy a truck, Will. Where do you suggest?”
    “You got two choices. Spruce Bay Motors if you want a new vehicle or if you want to get ripped off on a used one. Or you can go to Tough Beans and look at the notice board. Most everything gets posted there.”
    “What about Craigslist?”
    Will shrugged large shoulders. “You can try.”
    So, Max got Will to drop him off at Tough Beans. As promised, there was a big cork notice board offering apartment rentals, jobs, massage therapists, financial planners and guys to clean out your gutters or remove snow. And there was a section where people were advertising goods for sale from property to bowling shoes. There were three trucks on offer. One was fifteen years old and so full of rust he figured it would need to be towed, not driven. The second truck was too new and shiny. Truck number three was a five-year-old F-150. Mileage looked reasonable and the condition was listed as good. He called the number on his cell phone.
    Within hours he was the proud owner of a Ford truck. He drove it back to the property and parked behind the small house they’d given him.
    * * *
    T HE NEXT MORNING he walked into the office at six-thirty and headed straight for the coffee machine. Claire was already there, sitting behind one of the desks, tapping at a computer. “Morning, Claire.”
    “Morning, Max.”
    She rose, and walked over to stand beside him. She seemed ill at ease.
    “Everything all right?”
    “I don’t know. Look, I’m not one to pry into other people’s business but I’m wondering how you managed to pay cash for a truck yesterday. That’s a lot of money on a bush pilot’s salary.”
    He cursed himself for a fool. Of course this was a town where gossiping was as common as breathing. He could imagine the speculation going on behind her pretty eyes. Knew he’d be doing the same if their positions were reversed.
    He stirred cream into his coffee, added two sugars. Then he leaned back against the counter, took a sip of the brew. “I had some money sitting in an account.” It was true enough. “I came by that money honestly. Don’t worry, I’m not another Frank Carmondy.”
    She gazed at him searchingly. “Okay.”
    He felt twitchy inside. He didn’t like hiding things from Claire. He didn’t want to mislead a woman he liked, especially one who was suffering because of a crooked employee. He couldn’t raise false hopes though, not until he was sure Polar Air was a sensible acquisition for his company. And the fact that he had a crush on the owner’s granddaughter was not a sound reason to rush into this deal. Not for his management team or for himself.
    She turned to go back to her computer but he felt her unease. She deserved to know more. “I’m not a poor man.” He shrugged his shoulders. “In fact, I’m pretty good with money. Okay? My family raised me to be careful. They never had any debt apart from their mortgage, which they paid off as soon as they could by hard work and saving. Those habits are hard to break. In fact, no matter how much money I had, I wouldn’t want to.”
    His reward for telling her a little of the truth was seeing her relief. “Your parents sound like my grandparents. They only ever borrowed money for land and equipment. They worked so hard to build this airline.” He saw her hand clench into a fist and knew she was thinking of the man who had stolen so much of that hard-earned wealth. The man who had put the entire company’s future into jeopardy, if Leslie’s sources were to be believed.
    Of course, Claire had no idea how much he