Nick remembered the day the siren had sounded when they’d been at the farm supply store: the exhilarating drive to the firehouse, the purposeful rush of the men as they’d leapt into the fire engine. Instructions to Nick to stay put had held only as long as it had taken the pumper to leave, then he’d jogged out into the street and down toward the scent of smoke. The mixed terror and pride of watching his father plunge into the burning building was still as fresh in memory as it had been that day. Seeing him hurry out, soot-streaked, with a young girl clutching at his neck, had filled Nick with a kind of baffled awe.
Somehow, Nick thought as he signed the charge slip for the clerk, staying on the Trask farm to make maple syrup had never even come close.
He walked outside, fishing in the pocket of his bomber jacket for his cell phone, flipping it open to punch up a number.
The line clicked. “Gabe Trask.”
“You owe me two hundred bucks,” Nick told his younger brother as he crossed the pavement to his Jeep.
“You don’t say. You late on your car payment again?”
“Nope. You said we’d split Mom’s present. That’s splitting it.”
There was a short silence. “I left you with responsibility of picking Mom’s present?”
“Yep.”
“What was I thinking?”
Nick unlocked his door and got in. “How to come out smelling like a rose with zero effort?”
“Hey, I want a shopping mall, I’ve got either an hour drive over to Stowe or two hours down to Concord.”
“You’re breaking my heart, here.” Nick hooked his phone up to the hands-free cord. “Listen, I just shopped voluntarily, thanks to you.”
“Now who’s whining?”
“Me.” Nick turned the key and the Jeep roared to life.
“So what did we buy for her?”
“A necklace.” There was a short silence. “Gabe, you there?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just fell asleep from boredom for a minute there. Tell me you got something a little more original than a gold chain.”
“Have some faith, will you? It’s a charm necklace made out of antique gold.”
“Hence, the price,” Gabe said dryly.
Nick checked behind him and backed out of the parking space. “It made me think of her,” he said simply. “She can wear it all the time under her clothes and it’s got a charm for everyone in the family.”
“That’s not bad,” Gabe admitted. “Let me guess. A woman helped you pick it out, right?”
An image of Sloane’s face flashed into Nick’s head. “Nope, not unless you count the clerk who took my money.”
“Gee, my brother’s evolving in the big city. So are you going to bring it up for the party?”
“I can’t make it to the party,” Nick said, stifling another stab of guilt. “I’ve got one more week until the promotional exam. I’ve got to spend every minute studying that I can.”
Gabe cleared his throat. “Jacob’s not going to be happy.”
“Now there’s a surprise.” There was a lot that didn’t make their elder brother happy these days and most of it centered around Nick. “I’ve put a year into this exam. I can’t drop the ball at the last minute. I’ll overnight you the present and you can take it to her. She’ll understand.”
“I’m sure.”
“Look, I’m sorry Dad died, but I can’t quit my job and move home.” The words were out before Nick could stop them.
“And I didn’t ask you to,” Gabe said carefully. “You’ve got something to work out with Jacob, you do it with him, okay? I gave up being the go-between when I hit puberty.”
Nick pulled up to the exit of the parking lot and watched the sweep of passing traffic. “Oh, I don’t know. You made out pretty well being a go-between when we were kids. In fact, I remember a couple of summers you extorted candy bars from me just about every week to smooth things over.”
“Extorted is an ugly word,” Gabe said reprovingly. “I had a gift for working with people and you wanted to show your appreciation for my efforts. Who was I to say no?”
“Particularly when you had your hand out.”
“When opportunity knocks…”
Nick punched the accelerator and whipped out onto the highway. “Exactly. Still like Baby Ruths?”
Walking down the white hallway to her lab at Exler, Sloane could hear the radio before she ever neared the door. The station promo segued into a song, accompanied by her lab intern, Dave Tomlinson, an MIT engineering student assigned to her for the year. Bright and efficient, he had a quirky sense of humor and a penchant for indie rock, preferably at high decibels. And invariably he sang along. Sloane fought a smile and reached out for the doorknob.
Dave’s wobbly falsetto carried out into the hall, breaking off abruptly when Sloane opened the door. “Uh-oh.” His hand was already on the dial, turning down the volume. “The warden returns.”
“And none too soon. Do you know they can hear you down in manufacturing? You’d better watch out or the only place you’ll be playing tunes will be your dorm room.”
Dave sat at the computer workstation and grinned. “You say that, but I don’t think it really bugs you. Deep down inside, I think you got a soft spot for me.”
“Quite an imagination you’ve got. You should have gone to Berklee College to be a rock star instead of MIT,” she said, flicking a glance at the list of chords and lyrics he’d scribbled on the lab white board.
“But then you’d have some boring goob of an intern instead of a talented, charismatic young guy you liked.”
“What I like is interns who get their jobs done.” Her tone would have carried more authority if humor hadn’t hovered just beneath the surface.
“Yeah, that was what you said when you tutored me in thermo.”
That had been when she’d known she was in trouble. Her ice look, the one that had always kept her assistants at a respectful distance, had never worked on Dave.
Now, he squinted unrepentantly at the computer and tapped the keys. “Hey, I get something done now and then. Did you notice these?” With a flourish he indicated the Orienteer modules and user manuals stacked neatly at one end of the lab bench. “All of them loaded up with software and calibrated, ready to go live. I’m running a simulation on the last one now.”
“Very nice.” Sloane admired them. “Fast work. How did you get all this done? You were only just starting when I left for my meeting.”
He
