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For all her talk about Harry still owing her for doing him this solid, Susie was excited to be involved in whatever he was

up to. She started looking at her watch at six thirty, knowing Mr. Edwin Nabler would be arriving soon.

The Bobcats were having a practice, so the rink echoed with the whooshing of skates on ice, a sound Susie had always found particularly soothing, as well as slap shots and sticks tapping the ice

and a coach’s whistle and the general vocal pandemonium a bunch of teenage boys created. She walked the perimeter of the arena

once, then popped into the snack bar that was doing a reasonable business with moms and dads waiting for their kids to finish

up. Harry had been wise to bring coffee and donuts from outside when he’d come earlier. The snack bar stuff was shit, especially

those hot dogs that had been spinning on that rotisserie since Bobby Orr played for the Bruins.

She had no idea why Harry was interested in Nabler, but that didn’t stop her from coming up with possible reasons. Given the current fucked-up state of the world, maybe he was one of those sleeper agents. Someone from an unfriendly foreign power who’d infiltrated American society, posing as a native, waiting for his orders to carry out a mission years in the planning stages. While that one gave Susie a bit of a thrill, she realized it was more likely someone like that would be the target of an FBI, CIA, or Homeland Security sting. No slight against Harry, but come on. He was the local chief of police.

The most likely scenario? Edwin Nabler had a thing for kids. What a perfect cover for someone who was a pedophile, running

a business that catered, although not exclusively, to young boys. Yeah, Susie was putting her money on that one. And while

she kept Nabler busy, Harry was probably searching his place for proof. Incriminating magazines and videocassettes.

Ick.

It was nearly seven.

Susie had come up with several pitches. And they were real pitches, because if it turned out Nabler was not up to anything nefarious, and if he really did want to make a contribution,

well, why not give it a shot? He could buy a huge banner advertising his business that could be hung from the rafters over

the ice. Every hockey game, people would see it. If he wanted to buy an ad for the boards, she could arrange that, too.

Seven o’clock.

She didn’t want to be hanging around the entrance. Didn’t want to look too needy, too desperate.

When it got to be five minutes past seven, Susie didn’t give it much thought. Anybody could be five minutes late. And even

when it was 7:10 p.m., she wasn’t particularly worried. Anyone coming out this way had to cross the tracks. All it took was

one lone freight train to make someone late for an appointment.

At 7:15, Susie got out from behind her desk and strolled to the entrance, stepped outside, and checked the parking lot.

No Mr. Choo.

She gazed down the road in the direction from which he would be coming. From here, she’d be able to see and hear a train passing through town, but there was no sign of one. No sign of Nabler’s van, either.

The guy was a no-show.

Shit , Susie thought.

She ran back into the community center to make a call to Harry’s cell phone.