She turned right to make her way up the shore, walking away from the breakers. Meghan saw children playing on the bank. She swallowed and tipped her head down and turned right again on Silver Fox Road to cut between the bank and the First Baptist Church.
Before Meghan crossed in front of the bank doors, she saw someone she recognized come out of the bank. He had a flat rate priority box in his arms. Meghan thought about calling out to Cecil. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t forget about him. Something kept her tongue still in her mouth. She watched him wander out of the bank and walk with purpose along Silver Fox and turn the corner, heading down George Fox Way toward the post office. It was in the opposite direction.
She waited, standing a little way from the front of the bank. Cecil Tuktu was a bright and studious boy. He seemed in control. He seemed unsurprised by all of the news that surrounded his sister. Meghan didn’t know if Cecil knew about his uncle’s illicit business with Christine, or the fact the man killed his father. Something prompted Meghan to turn around and head back toward Shore Avenue.
Meghan picked up her feet, her boots shuffling in the wet gravel. The summer season started as soon as the ice cleared the waterways. The kids dared each other to hop on a swift-moving ice sheet. Meghan saw the tallest of the group, push on the shoulder of a small boy trying to prove something to his peers.
Meghan dropped the bundle of flatted cardboard. She snatched the tallest of the group.
“The rest of you get out of here,” she shouted. Meghan held the boy by the coat sleeve. He wasn’t going anywhere until she released him. “What are you doing?”
“Get off, pig,” he said.
Meghan saw him lean back, taking a deep breath. She knew he got ready to spit on her. Meghan flicked his throat, causing him to sputter.
“You assaulted me,” he shouted. “Hey, she’s assaulting me. Someone get this on video.”
Meghan turned her fist, forcing the teenager to bend over. No one pulled out a phone. No one came to his rescue.
“What’s your name?” Meghan asked.
“None of your business, pig.”
“You talk like an old hippie. Do you think that works for you? No one uses that term anymore.”
“Get off me,” he said, struggling.
Meghan pulled on his sleeve, kept him pinned close to her and off-balance.
“You’re on your own. Look around, you don’t have any friends. You think it’s fun to tease the kids, see if they’ll jump on the ice. How about if I threw you out there? What then? You know we lost one kid. You know that?” Meghan shook him.
“Yeah,” he said. The fight drained out of him.
“There’s no law around here anymore. I’m not a cop anymore, and you’re all alone. You watch your back because if I see you down here near the ice again, you’re not going home again.” She let go of his sleeve.
He stumbled, getting away from Meghan. She didn’t watch him run in the other direction.
Meghan left the bundled cardboard on Shore Avenue and ran toward the post office.
***
Cecil waited patiently in the line leading to the windows. Meghan saw him shifting the package weight from left to right. It was a large flat rate box. He didn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t bother looking around. Cecil stared at the address on the box or the area closest to him.
When he finally made it to the postal worker, Meghan saw Cecil paid cash for the box. He took the tracking notice, the receipt, and ignored the woman. She said something about Christine. He didn’t reply and had avoided eye contact with everyone, still waiting in line.
Meghan didn’t know how much the rest of the public knew about Eugene Tuktu. If word got out about his uncle’s arrest, it was a matter of time before the details went public. She saw a boy shying away from attention as best as possible in the small town.
Meghan stayed out of the way, watching from the corner of a post office mailbox alcove. When Cecil walked out of the building, she went to the package pick up door and rang the buzzer. After waiting too long for someone to answer, Meghan pressed the buzzer again and held it down.
“What the fu—” the young man said. “Oh, hey Chief Sheppard, what can I do for you.”
“It’s Meghan, and I’m not the police chief anymore. I want to talk to Barbara McKenzie.”
He looked as if Meghan gave him a surprise oral exam, and he didn’t know how to answer. “I can see if Barb’s around.”
“Yes, please, I need to see her.”
He closed the door, and Meghan paced a little in the lobby. She scanned the area. Looking for anyone who pointed fingers at her or wanted to give her a piece of their mind. No one paid attention to her. Even with the sunglasses and ski cap, the postal worker recognized Meghan.
“Is everything okay?” Barbara asked. She gave Meghan a small embrace.
She had tired eyes and smelled like cigarettes. The woman saw some hardship in the last year. Losing her lover, losing her mother, Barbara was a person who didn’t give up. She was the right person to request the favor.
“I need you to do something for me,” Meghan said. “It’s going to sound strange, and I don’t want you to get into trouble. But I must see the address on a package that Cecil Tuktu dropped off.”
“You know it’s—”
“I know Barbara. I understand. I mean it. If there was another way,
