Cover of Snow Read Online Free PDF

had been the day of Brendan’s funeral.
    But that earlier distance had vanished—maybe it hadn’t been coldness at all, only sorrow and grief—and the Chief scuffed his boots before stepping forward into the house, and placing a pale-fleshed hand underneath my chin.
    â€œI haven’t told you yet how sorry I am,” he said, voice a low rumble. “This is more sadness than most folks have to bear in a lifetime.”
    I felt tears crowd my throat. “Thank you, Vern.”
    He looked across the room to Club. “She calls me Vern,” he said, and I quickly realized my mistake. The truth was, before this, I hadn’t had cause to address Brendan’s boss very often.
    â€œMy mama called me Vern,” the Chief went on. “My kindeygarten teacher maybe. Everyone else calls me Chief. It was my name long before I ever came to be one. Isn’t that right, Mitchell?”
    Club nodded.
    â€œâ€™Course, that was crazy.”
    â€œWhat was, Chief?” Club asked.
    My lips raised in a smile, for I could tell where this was going, the two men launching into some oft-repeated routine. Maybe it was paranoid of me, but I also heard another note below the humorous one, in Club’s voice a sort of dutiful drone.
    â€œMama and my teacher calling me by my Christian name.” The Chief let out a laugh, genuine and broad. Rather than sounding ugly in this grief-stripped room, it brought back a little of its life. “They should’ve known I was gonna be Chief.” He raised my chin with his hand then, gaze probing. “You call me Chief. Okay?”
    My throat was still thick. “Yes,” I said, low. “Okay.” The Chief’s presence was like a soft, enveloping blanket. I felt myself begin to unfreeze, just a little. I leaned into his pat, the way a cat will do as it sidles past your leg.
    â€œNext time,” he said. “I’ll stay for a meal.”
    The Chief turned and ambled out before either of us could say goodbye.
    Late that afternoon, the phone rang. “Hello?” I said into it, but received no reply. I uttered the next inquiry more impatiently before tossing the cordless aside on the bed. Both Club and Teggie had urged me to rest. And for some reason, I had agreed, even though I didn’t want to rest, had the feeling I’d already spent too much of my life resting.
    My sister entered the room. “I found it.”
    I was still focused on the phone. “Found what?”
    â€œWhat Brendan used. In his desk drawer. Club was getting a book out of the study,” she added quickly.
    I patted the bed, indicating that my sister should sit down, but she ignored me.
    â€œDon’t you want to see?”
    A pause. “Yes, of course.”
    She laughed, brief and bitter. “Really? Of course?”
    Before I could answer, she held out her hand, palm up.
    I lifted an amber plastic bottle. “Prescription pills?”
    â€œRead the label.”
    I glanced at the white sticker. The type was dark and clear, but for a moment I couldn’t make out what it said at all.
    â€œThey’re for Brendan,” I said at last. “You already said that.”
    â€œName isn’t all that’s on a prescription label,” Teggie said.
    â€œWhy do you sound that way?” I cried. “Why are you being so harsh?”
    â€œHarsh?” Teggie echoed strangely. “You don’t know what harsh is. You don’t know what harshness you’re letting yourself in for. I may not either, but I have some sense of what happens when you try and face up to the truth.” She hesitated. “I have a short lifetime’s worth of cred on that subject.”
    I glanced down at the label again. “The physician is Doctor Bradley. He works with the police when they need medical help.”
    Teggie paused, then said, “Okay.”
    â€œHe must’ve been on duty when these were prescribed.”
    â€œKeep