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for me tonight.”
    “You have a kid?” Elle said, surprised that she hadn’t guessed it. She was usually able to detect when a woman was a mother, even if she didn’t mention it.
    “Almost,” Kelly said. “I’m a big sister. I look after my kid brother, Lucas. He’s eleven. Our parents died a few years back, and well, I’ve been looking out for him ever since.”
    “By yourself?” Elle said, reappraising her new friend.
    “Almost,” Kelly said. “If it hadn’t been for Gracie helping us out, I don’t know what would have happened.”
    Elle reached out and patted Kelly on the back. She meant it as a sign of respect. For some reason, she’d assumed Kelly was just another happy-go-lucky girl, she certainly seemed that way. But hearing that she’d lost her parents at a young age and was raising her little brother gave her a heightened level of respect for her new friend.
    A few minutes later they were sitting on large, leather upholstered stools by a beautiful oak bar. They were in the town’s most popular bar. It was a quiet night but the place still had a nice atmosphere, Elle thought. A big fire roared in the fireplace, warming up the place. A few customers were scattered around, drinking beers and talking among themselves.
    “What can I get you, Kelly?” the bartender said.
    “Elle, this is Harry, the best bartender in the Rocky Mountains. Harry, this is Elle, the second best waitress in the Rocky Mountains.”
    Elle laughed. “Pleased to meet you, Harry.”
    “You too, Elle. What brings you to our little patch of the world?”
    Elle thought about what to say, but Kelly answered for her. “She’s working with me and Gracie.”
    “I see,” Harry said.
    Kelly ordered a couple of beers and Harry brought them over.
    “So,” Elle said as she took a sip of her drink, “did you and Grace see the pickup in the parking lot when you left?”
    “I didn’t notice one,” Kelly said. “Maybe Grace saw it, why?”
    “It was the guy?”
    “What guy?”
    “The guy I spilled coffee on.”
    “He was waiting for you in the parking lot?”
    “No, he wasn’t waiting for me.”
    “Then what?”
    “He’d fallen asleep in his truck.”
    “What? In this cold? I knew he was crazy.”
    “He’s not crazy.”
    “He’s pretty weird, Elle.”
    “He’s got to go to a funeral. He’s grieving.”
    “He told you that?”
    “He asked me if I knew where the funeral home was.”
    The bartender was cleaning some glasses and had overheard the girls’ conversation. He spoke up.
    “Someone asked you for the funeral home?”
    “Yeah,” Kelly answered. “A weird guy came into the diner today and made a scene.”
    “The funeral home here in Stone Peak?” Harry said, looking at Elle.
    “Yes,” Elle said.
    “Did he happen to tell you his name?”
    “No,” Elle said, looking at the bartender curiously. “Why?”
    “What did he look like?” Harry continued.
    “Tall,” Elle said.
    “Muscular, tattoos,” Kelly added.
    “What age was he?”
    “I’d say about thirty,” Elle said.
    Harry did a little quick arithmetic, then shook his head. “Holy hell,” he said.
    “What is it, Harry?” Kelly said.
    “He came back for him.”
    “What?” Elle said. “Who came back? And for who?”
    “It’s a long story,” Harry said, “but the son of a bitch came back. I’ll be damned.”
    “What’s a long story?” Elle said.
    “You don’t want me to go over it.”
    “Of course we do,” Kelly said.
    “You sure? It’s not a nice story.”
    “Tell us,” both girls insisted.
    “All right,” Harry said, “but you’re going to need something stronger than beer.” He poured them each a shot of Jameson’s whiskey, and a shot for himself, and the three of them knocked them back.
    “All right, listen closely, I’m only going to say this once,” Harry said. “The man at the funeral home right now was the meanest son of a bitch that ever lived in this town. I mean, I don’t like to talk ill of the