Funny how a chance encounter can distract you from what you're supposed to be focused on.
As I exited the bar I almost ran into someone entering, surprised to find Tom Brackshaw wandering around on his own. From what I knew the bank manager at Reading Savings Bank had no real ties to the lodge, though I could have been wrong. The likelihood he was a suspect in Mason's murder, however, seemed slim and when I paused and offered the obligatory smile, he smiled back, quickly seizing and shaking my hand with his own pudgy one as if actually delighted to see me.
I'd always liked Tom, found him friendly and kind, remembered being offered a sucker when I was a little girl and my parents brought me to his branch to open my first bank account. He had the same roundish face, if a bit rounder, the same circular glasses and less hair, but I'd know him anywhere.