Winter at the Door Read Online Free Page A

Just pulling a radio into the tub with you was a pretty good trick, and …
    “Breaker didn’t trip?”
    Because even though it was not a good idea, in a properly wired house you ought to be able to float a radio in the bathtub like a rubber duckie, the power cutting off microseconds after the overload hit the circuit breaker.
    You wouldn’t like it much, but you wouldn’t necessarily die, either. Chevrier looked across the room to where a big man in a denim barn coat and rubber boots was just getting up from his table.
    “Place didn’t have circuit breakers,” Chevrier said while watching the man approach.
    “Old house, still had fuses. One of ’em had burned out some time earlier—he’d stuck a bent nail in there.”
    He sighed, remembering. “So the wires melted, started a fire, and that’s how it got called in, originally. Dwelling fire.”
    “I see. So that makes two of them so far? Sprague, Clifford Arbogast …”
    “Yeah, and two more. Michael Fontine, ex–state cop, he lived way over by the border crossing in Van Buren. And …”
    But just then the big man in the barn coat arrived at their booth. “Hey, Cody.”
    The new arrival had ruddy cheeks, thinning blond hair, and a linebacker’s meaty build. Twenty or thirty pounds more than he needed packed his tall, powerful frame, but on him it didn’t look too bad, maybe because it was distributed evenly instead of all hanging around his waist.
    Or maybe it was because he had the brightest, bluest, and possibly the smartest-looking eyes she’d ever seen, pleasantly crinkled at the corners.
    “And whom do we have here?” The little ironic stress he put on
whom
was just audible enough to be charming.
    She stuck out her hand. “Lizzie Snow.” With a nod across the table, she added, “I’m Sheriff Chevrier’s newest deputy.”
    His grip was warm and firm, and he didn’t milk the moment by holding on for too long. “Trey Washburn. Hey, good to meet you, Lizzie.”
    “It’s
Dr
. Washburn,” Chevrier put in. “Trey here is our local veterinarian. Puppies and kittens, that sort of thing,” he added jocularly.
    Washburn’s smile was infectious and his teeth were white and well-cared-for-looking. “Right,” he said. “Also horses, pigs, cows …”
    His hands were very clean, and a faint whiff of Old Spice came off him. “No elephants so far, but if the circus comes to Houlton this year like they’re threatening to do, that’ll be next.”
    He looked back at Chevrier. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Sorry to hear about Bogart. You find a home for his hound yet?”
    With a quick glance at Lizzie, Chevrier replied, “No. Might just keep him myself if I can talk the wife into it. Dog’s a pain in the rear, but he’s all I’ve got left of old Carl, you know?”
    A moment of silence that Lizzie didn’t understand passed between the two men. Then:
    “Lizzie,” said Washburn pleasantly, “I’m going out to take a look at a newborn calf later today. If the sheriff here doesn’t already have you too busy setting up a speed trap or something, you’re welcome to ride along.”
    At the invitation, her inner eyebrows went up. Could he be hittingon her? The twinkle in his blue eyes said yes, but he was a friendly guy. So maybe he always twinkled.
    Before she could reply, the restaurant’s front door opened and another man came in: tall, dark-haired, sharp-featured. His deep-set eyes scanned the dining room swiftly before finding her.
    Then his harsh face softened. Every woman in the place, old or young, watched him cross the room; he was just that way, loose-limbed and easy in his well-cut jacket and dark slacks.
    Comfortable in his skin. Quickly, she banished the memories this thought evoked:
Oh, his skin …
    Hoping Chevrier and Washburn hadn’t noticed her reaction, she drank some of the watery Coke at the bottom of her glass to wet her mouth. But the new arrival had noticed, of course.
    He always did. As he approached the booth,