Page 3 of Chasing Smoke

Could I really leave Echo Lake, though? I love my family and the people in this small town. I’ve lived here my whole life. Portland isn’t crazy far away, but it’s not five minutes down the road either.

But I’ll always be chasing Ramsey’s tail, so maybe the only way to get ahead in my career is to leave. I could move up in the ranks in Portland, then maybe come back here and jump Ramsey from having more experience.

There’s something appealing about moving out of Echo Lake. Somewhere fresh with a lot fewer memories attached to every street, every place, every inch of the town.

There comes Caleb’s face front and center again.

Fowler rounds the bar and leans his forearms on the top in front of me. “You find out about Ramsey last night?”

I shake my head. “Nah, the B shift found out this afternoon. McMather called me on my way over here.” I take a sip of the whiskey, welcoming the burn down my throat.

“At least you didn’t have to brew all last night, I guess.”

I shrug. “I guess. Boring shift, though. The only call we got was from Mrs. Quinton, who swears she saw a spark on her Christmas tree lights. Then when we got there, she didn’t even have the lights plugged in.”

His forehead creases. “Why the hell would she call you then?”

“I think she was just lonely and wanted company. She had a whole spread of Christmas treats for us. The woman can bake, so it wasn’t a total loss. The only downside was having to fake being interested while she went through each and every spoon she’d collected on vacations with Coach Fred.”

“May he rest in peace,” Fowler murmurs.

“Playing football in the sky,” I say, and Fowler nods.

“He’s probably screaming at Caleb. ‘We ain’t building birdhouses out there!’” He mimics Coach Fred when he coached our peewee football team.

“‘My grandma takes better angles!’” I down the rest of my whiskey.

“They don’t coach like him anymore.” Fowler grabs his water and takes a swig.

“Could you imagine if he had to give out a participation award?”

“I don’t know, he always said if you’re gonna be dumb, you better be tough.”

“Not sure that’s the uplifting coach speech the parents like nowadays.”

We laugh, and I wish I could go back to when it was the three of us joking around and causing havoc after practice, when we’d always try to swindle a sleepover at each other’s houses.

I twirl the empty glass in my hand. “She’s just lonely. No harm, no foul.” I shrug.

“Well, Coach would be happy you kept her busy for a little bit.”

Fowler’s right. He would.

I turn and look over my shoulder. “Seems like business is good for this time of year.”

This is the busiest I’ve seen the Pines since Fowler took it over from his. The summers are always hopping because of the large patio with tables that overlook the lake, but things are generally pretty quiet in Echo Lake during the winter months. Mainers tend to be like bears in the winter—they hibernate.

“Yeah, it makes the day go by quick, but I’m fucking done for by the time I leave here.”

My head tilts. “Why don’t you hire another employee?”

“You never know how long it will stay like this. I’ll have no choice come the summer, but things are a little lean right now, so I’m trying to get by without having to add to the staff I already have. Nothing worse than hiring someone you can’t afford.”

My forehead wrinkles. “If it’s so busy, how are things tight?”

His eyes shift away but fall right back to me. He’s hiding something, but he’ll tell me eventually, whenever he’s ready. “The usual—rising food costs, labor costs. You name it, it costs more.” Fowler nods at my phone that’s face up on the bar. “What were you brooding into your phone for?”

He’s changing the subject, which is a sure sign something is going on with him, but I allow the distraction because that’s how our friendship works. We try to solve things ourselves, but eventually we tell the other.