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be down?”
    I told her he didn’t have any idea. “It depends on how long this snow keeps coming.”
    I thought she was going to say something else. Instead, she squeezed her arms to her chest and looked back at the car.
    I asked if she was okay.
    She didn’t answer. “Do we just leave him out here?”
    “Probably the best place. It’s cold.”
    “What do you think happened to him?”
    “I don’t know for sure, but he’s got a hole in his side, right about—”
    “A hole? You think someone shot him?”
    I nodded and pointed to a spot just under my rib cage. “Looks like it to me.”
    Her eyes went wide. “Are you sure?”
    “How the hell can I be sure? I’m just telling you what it looks like, that’s all.”
    That was a lie. I’d seen gunshot wounds before. I knew exactly what they looked like.
    We both stood for a while, silent, letting the snow build up around us. I noticed she was shivering and I stepped in and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. This time her skin felt cold.
    “You need to get inside.”
    She didn’t argue.
    I held out the key and the box of candles and told her about burning them in the ashtrays.
    “Building number three,” I said. “I’m going to go back and tell Butch what’s going on, then I’ll pull the car around and bring in the bags.”
    Sara nodded and took the key. She stared at it for a moment then turned it over in her hands. When she saw the room number, she didn’t say a word.
    It was like she’d expected it.

8
    I waited until Sara was gone, then I went back to the office and knocked on the door. There was no answer and no movement behind the glass. I knocked again.
    Still nothing.
    I went back to the car and took an old blanket from one of the bags in the trunk, then I climbed in the passenger side and used it to cover Syl’s body. I’m not sure why, it just felt like the right thing to do.
    When I finished, no part of him was showing.
    As I got out of the car, I noticed Syl’s green backpack on the seat next to him. I grabbed it and slung it over my shoulder then closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side and got in. The car was still running. I turned on the wipers to push away the snow.
    I ran through what I was going to tell Butch, and eventually the police. The more I thought about it, the more I felt a sick sense of dread form in my chest. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but that didn’t matter. Dealing with the cops made me nervous, even when there wasn’t a dead body involved.
    Once they ran my name through their computer, there would be questions. They’d probably call back to Minnesota to make sure I was allowed out of the state. I wasn’t too worried about that, my probation was over. I could go wherever I wanted. Still, there was always a chance someone might make a mistake.
    It was a stupid thought, but one I couldn’t shake.
    I told myself that I’d done my time and I was a free man, but the idea of dealing with the police made my heart race. Prison will do that to you, especially if you never wanted to go back.
    I sat for a while longer, letting my mind play out all the different options. I couldn’t keep them straight and soon I started to feel something cold and sharp build behind my eyes.
    I needed to calm down so I pressed my fingertips against the sides of my head and ran backward through the alphabet.
    “Z, Y, X, W, V, U . . .”
    It was a trick I’d picked up in the hospital from one of the orderlies. He was an old guy and an alcoholic, and I think he felt sorry for me. He told me it helped him focus when he was alone and bleeding for a drink.
    I tried it, and it’d worked.
    I’d used it ever since.
    Once I felt things return to normal, I looked down at the backpack then turned it over and unzipped the main compartment. At first all I saw were clothes.
    Dress shirts and black socks, all folded perfectly.
    I pushed them aside.
    Underneath was a clear plastic bag. I took it out and held it up to the overhead