“Broker, the guide. She sat at the kitchen table, exhausted, taking refuge in a cup of coffee, staring out the window. At the edge of the backyard patio, a red cardinal was inspecting an empty feeder that dangled from a barren tree limb. She knew what Sharon Stone wore to the Academy Awards last year, but she didn’t know what kind of tree it was. She never caught the knack of feeding the birds. She barely remembered to feed the cat. Hank had . . . She looked away and restarted her thoughts. Brok...er. She had a notion of him from up north, paddling with Allen through the night in an effort to save Hank. He was not smooth and all tucked in like Allen. He had a deep-set tongue-and-groove muscularity and he was at home in his body, which was important. He had a quiet voice; simple perhaps, but direct. She tried to remember his weathered face, the light, courteous touch of his hand that day at the hospital. Jolene was good at first impressions. She was also good at puzzles, the ones with pieces.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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