In my heart of hearts, I knew why I’d volunteered for this part of the job. Aside from the fact I needed time alone, I was flirting with the notion of going back to Grand’s old house. Like a newly reformed drunk, I’d sworn off with conviction just the day before and now found myself thinking maybe one more quick visit wouldn’t do any harm. I reached the Gull Cove minimart at 2:00 P.M. The business had been housed in an enormous shambling structure covered with cedar shingles, an appealing mix of modern and traditional, with a few Cape Cod elements thrown in for good measure. The building had also housed a twenty-four-hour diner, a curio shop, and a tiny two-station beauty salon. Even at a distance, it was clear the entire place had been closed down. I could see windows boarded over, and the asphalt parking lot was cracked and faded to a chalky gray. The surrounding grass was a dull brown with assorted weeds and wildflowers growing to knee height. On the hillside behind the building, a lone tree had died and stood now like a scare-crow, its twisted branches raised toward the sky as though to beckon birds.
