Page 20 of The Frozen River

“Did you know that he saw a body when he went under? Or that Jonathan sent James Wall to get men from the Hook to cut it from the ice?”

“I did not.” Ephraim’s jaw twitches. “Who is the dead man?”

“I never said it was a man.”

“Then who’s dead?”

“I’m getting to that.”

“Rather slowly, I’d say.”

“Hush. I’m trying to sort out the details, so they’ll make sense.” The small woodstove spreads what little warmth it can through the mill, and I drift closer, palms outstretched, before continuing.

“Amos Pollard sent James to collect me from the Clarks’. They’d gotten the body out. Taken it to the tavern. Amos wanted me to inspect him before Dr. Cony was summoned.”

“Him? So it was a man? Like I said.”

“Well, you assumed. But that’s beside the point. Women get murdered too, you know?”

“Murdered?”

“I’ll get to that as well if you won’t interrupt.”

“Go on then, tell me what man has been murdered in Hallowell,” Ephraim says. It’s not so much the news he’s enjoying, but our banter, and I note the flash of humor in his eyes.

I pause, giving import to the name before I speak it. “Joshua Burgess.”

Ephraim looks as shocked as he is capable of. His eyes widen for a moment and his nostrils flare. Beyond that he is as impassive as a stump. “Ah,” he says. “Well, that complicates things.”

“He’d been beaten and hanged, Ephraim. Someone killed him before they threw him in the river.”

“Well.” He scratches his scalp, contemplating. “There are a number of men in this town who would want to hang him.”

This is the hardest thing I must ask him today, but Ephraim and I are not in the habit of shrinking away from difficult subjects. “Is our son one of them?”

And there it is, the stillness that overcomes my husband when he is afraid. “Which son? And what do you mean?”

“Have you not spoken with your daughters this morning?”

His eyes narrow. “Only a quick good morning when Dolly brought my breakfast.”

“And she said nothing of Hannah?”

“Hannah is coming up an awful lot just now. And no. Dolly did not mention her sister. Why?”

“Because Burgess hurt her at the Frolic last night.” Ephraim stiffens and takes one threatening step forward, and I hold out a hand, palm flat to stop him from combusting. “Everything is fine. Cyrus handled it. Thrashed him soundly from what I hear, but the fact remains that Joshua Burgess tried to force Hannah to dance, and he had to be evicted from the Frolic. Dozens of people witnessed it. And when news of Burgess’s death spreads, so will that fact.”

“And you think they’ll come for Cyrus?”

“Him or Isaac Foster.”

“There’s another man who would benefit directly from Burgess’s death.”

“Yes. The fewer people who take the stand in Vassalboro, the better for Joseph North.”

Ephraim nods slowly, letting that idea take root. “When did James Wall arrive at the Clarks’?”

I shrug. “About five o’clock.”