SNOW HAD FALLEN overnight and blanketed the world anew in white, gracing the hills and fields around Test’s home with a pastoral calm. The sun sparkled off the snow, dazzling and idyllic. The whole scene put Test and her family in a festive mood. This was the first real, deep fluffy snow, not the heavy wet sticky stuff that had fallen the other night.
Test, Claude, and the kids trudged through the snowy fields to get to the steepest hill on their five acres. It had become a tradition for the family to go sledding together after the first real snowfall.
This year, George was charged for the first time with dragging the toboggan, a beastly but beautiful sled of dark wood and red cushions. He worked arduously, panting, but refused all help. He was especially proud of and enthused about this responsibility.
At the top of the hill, Test and her family stood for a moment and took in their surroundings. This was the life Test had imagined for herself and Claude when they’d bought the property. And here that life was now, being lived. Only a third child would make this moment more perfect. She’d know in a few days if their date night had taken. Making love with the intent to conceive was a different venture from making love on other occasions. It was more meaningful, urgent and intimate, even while it might feel perfunctory. I’m peaking, let’s go. Whether either of them was in the right space, they dropped everything to capitalize on timing. Then came the period of days when the promise of whether or not “it took” hung over her.
“I’m riding in front!” George exclaimed as he readied the toboggan at the precipice of the steep hill.
“You sit between Mommy and Daddy,” Test said to Elizabeth and straightened her daughter’s hat to cover her ears. Elizabeth’s cheeks were so pink, Test could not help but give them a pinch.
As Test and Claude were about to board the sled, Test’s cell phone rang in her pocket. Each member of her family turned to her.
While Test and Claude brought their phones to take pics and videos, ringers were to be kept off during such family excursions. “Sorry,” Test said. “Didn’t know I had it on.” It was the truth, even though is sounded like a lie.
Claude knew she’d been awaiting word of Brad. He was presumably being transported back to prison today, and North believed he had him on the edge of confession.
Test’s phone ID showed it was Larkin.
“Let’s go!” George said, pushing the palm of his mitten against his runny nose.
“I’ll just be a second.” Test answered the phone.
“I got the background you wanted,” Larkin said.
“Background?” Test said. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“You said it was no rush? The BG on the vandalism,” Larkin clarified.
“Right,” Test said, “right.” The information on Randy Clark, who’d called the Merryfields from the old lady’s place.
“Do you still need the information?” Larkin said.
“Go ahead,” Test said. She didn’t need it, but Larkin had done the work and she did not want him to feel it had been done for nothing. She knew how that felt.
“He lived in Haverhill, New Hampshire. A rental property. Clean record. Single. Never married. No kids. Worked for Help Hand part-time.”
“Any other jobs?”
Test’s family had boarded the toboggan and were eyeing her expectantly.
“Not that I’ve come up with,” Larkin said.
“He lived there? Not anymore?” Test said.
“Till about three months ago. No new address since, that I could find. Doesn’t mean much. He could be paying cash to stay somewhere. Or living in a motel. Crashing at a friend’s place. Who knows? If you don’t own a home, it’s harder to track residence. He doesn’t work for Helping Hand anymore though.”
“Was he fired?” Test asked.
George was starting to shimmy at the front of the toboggan, the curled nose of the giant sled beginning to edge over the lip of the hill.
“He quit,” Larkin said. “I spoke to his supervisor. She said he was diligent and caring, punctual and trustworthy.”
There was a pause and Test was eager to get to her family, so took advantage of the break. “Well, great, thanks. I appreciate it, I—”
“There is one kicker,” Larkin said.
George was now pushing the sled forward with his mittened hands.
The toboggan rocked on the edge of the hill.
“Come on, Mom!” Elizabeth shouted.
Claude widened his eyes: Hang up.
“Tell me,” Test said, a warmth rising in her chest.
“His hometown is here. Canaan. His family moved away in nineteen eighty-five, when he was eight.”
Test felt as if she had the wind knocked out of her. The toboggan rocked at its tipping point.
“Hold up!” Test implored her family, “Wait for me!”
Randy Clark had lived in Canaan? This had to mean something. It had to. But what? Her mind was working now, backfilling all she knew.
“Why did they move?” she said.
“Hurry!” Claude shouted.
“I haven’t got that far,” Larkin said. “His old man was a professor of some sort. They may have moved for a job. Not certain yet.”
“Keep on it.”
“I will, Detective. What’s this really about anyway?”
Test didn’t answer. She got off the phone, mystified. What did this mean? She did not believe in coincidences of this magnitude. Whatever the connection, she felt invigorated; but apprehensive, too. This might open the case in unknown directions, although it was as yet difficult to envision how, let alone understand. She knew one thing: North would never entertain it. She was on her own. If she pursued this and was wrong, her career was over.
The sled was starting to go.
“Wait!” she shouted, “Wait!”
She ran after the sled to try to hop on it.
But she missed it, and her family was carried screaming down the hill away from her.