Ghosts of Manitowish Waters

by G. M. Moore

“Vacationing photographer sent it in to Hayward. The woman was out kayaking with her camera. Saw him and the blond girl, but thought he was the more striking image.” Crystal winked. “They were near Winter’s Dam at the time.”

  “OK. You’ve got me. What’s the time line here?”

  “Mr. O’Brien reported his daughter missing Friday night around 9:30 p.m. The Winter’s Dam sighting was Saturday around 4:00 p.m. The fisherman spotted the two around noon Sunday. Loretta got a call later Sunday reporting trespassers along the Chippewa River. Property owner said he saw two people in the woods, but couldn’t give a description. If that was them, they were last seen in a canoe heading up river.”

  Sergeant Brault looked at the photo of the boy again. “And the father claimed he got a call from a kidnapper, just yesterday morning wasn’t it?”

  “That’s right sir.” Crystal’s expression and tone turned indignant. “Sunday morning around 10:00 a.m. But no more contact has been made, and O’Brien was too emotional to get any real information. All he knew was that the caller had seen Tess and said she was OK.” She shrugged her skepticism.

  “Do you think that Mathews kid is a kidnapper?” the sergeant asked, holding the two images side by side.

  “No sir.”

  He glanced skeptically upward at the young woman.

  “No sir,” she repeated firmly. “I don’t. He’s a troublemaker, no doubt, but nothing worse.”

  The sergeant pursed his lips. “OK. What do we have on him?”

  “Truancy. Multiple speeding and traffic violations. He’s on probation for that and due in court later today for breaking curfew. An underage girl was involved, but we don’t know who it was. Seems he helped her flee the scene.”

  “A case of young love on the run then?”

  Crystal smiled. “Maybe. I have a soft spot for troublemakers and young love.”

  Sergeant Brault shook his head. “So do I.” He smiled back. “Unfortunately, so do I.” The man sighed heavily and glanced at his wristwatch. It read 7:10 a.m. “Call the parents—both sets. Get them in here and let’s find out if these kids know one another. And see what you can do about that court date, assuming Mr. Mathews won’t be making it.”

  Crystal nodded eagerly and headed for the door. Just before she reached it the sergeant called to her, and she paused and turned around.

  “Get Officers Scray and Gustman in here pronto. They’re on this one.”

  “Yes sir.” She started to leave again, but he held up his hand.

  “One more thing. Good work.”

  Crystal beamed brightly, turned swiftly on her heels, and headed for the door, leaving it slightly ajar behind her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tess crouched low in the greening spring foliage with Cain at her side and the albino fawn between them watching the small, red cabin for movement. Be abandoned. Please let it be abandoned, she silently prayed. She was more than ready to be done tromping through the woods for the day and if this cabin was empty, maybe she could talk Cain into stopping now and sleeping here tonight. Maybe they could find a way into the cabin and get to sleep inside, under a roof—her eyes moved to the stone chimney—in a warm room and away from bugs. She scanned the dingy, clapboard cabin and the overgrown grounds. She didn’t see an outhouse. Maybe there’s a bathroom, she thought, her excitement building. Maybe…

  She felt a nudge at her side and followed Cain’s pointing finger to a disheveled gravel path and then to a small, wooden sign with the number ten carved on it in flaking, faded yellow paint.

  “This must be a resort cabin,” he said as he stood and stretched upward. “Or was.”

  The cabin definitely had a deserted feel, like no one had been there in years.

  “Are we near a lake?” she asked, still cautiously crouched down.

  Cain shrugged and started off toward the cabin. The albino fawn pranced after him, pulling the retractable leash out until Tess was forced to follow. She hooked the leash handle over a broken stair rail and joined Cain, who had his hands cupped around his eyes, peering into one of the cabin’s dirty windows.

  “Looks good on the inside.” He turned and smiled at her for the first time since finding her stoking a small fire on the banks of the Chippewa River the night before. He hadn’t said much about what had happened to the man Cain referred to as Mr. Lay Chilly. She hadn’t pressed him on it either. He had seemed shaken by whatever accident the man had had, and Tess understood that very well. When he was ready to talk about it, he would.

  Cain pulled the map out of his back pocket and spread it out on the planks of the cabin’s porch. “I think we are here.” Tess looked over his shoulder to an area just on the edge of the Chequamegon National Forest. He glanced up at her. “We’ve been heading due east, for the most part.” His gaze returned to the map and his finger traced a line across it, stopped, and tapped. “Butternut Lake. We can stop there for the night. It’s got to be just five, six miles away. The town’s not too far either. We might be able to get supplies there tomorrow.”

  “Five or six miles, huh?” she asked.

  “Yeah, we can do that in a couple of hours. Get there by nightfall, no problem. What do you think?”

  Tess didn’t answer. She hedged, biting her lip as he turned his face up to her. “What?” he asked.

  “Well, I was hoping maybe we could just stay here tonight?”

  “Here?” Cain looked around. “Why?”

  She didn’t want to admit she was tired or complain about how her feet hurt. He’d probably march her double time to Butternut and then leave her there. She hesitated for a moment, searching her mind for a good excuse, some compelling reason that would convince Cain. Then it hit her. She’d do what she did to her father when she wanted something she knew he’d forbid. She’d take the truth and spin it in her favor. She’d stretch it, twist it, or push it until is was on the edge of being a lie—but not quite there.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could really use a good night’s sleep. Camping out is not so great for that, you know?” She moved to one of the cabin’s windows and peered in. “There’s a couch inside and that looks like a bathroom toward the back.” She turned and smiled encouragingly at him. “I could really use a shower. What about you?”

  “I doubt there is running water—or electricity.”

  “But there’s a fireplace,” she countered, “and there’s got to be a well or some source of water around here. If this is cabin ten, cabins one through nine have got to be nearby.” She paused, waiting for him to show signs of weakening. He didn’t. She puffed out air and continued on. “We’ve been struggling today. You have to admit that. With all that’s happened…” Her voice trailed off and she paused again, searching his face. She could see he still wasn’t buying in to it, but his eyes had softened a little. She moved quickly to seal the deal. “We will cover soooooo much more ground tomorrow with a good night’s sleep. Just picture yourself curled up on that couch in front of a toasty warm fire.”

  His eyes narrowed, then he grinned mischievously. “OK, OK. Just so you know though, what you are talking about is a crime. It’s called breaking and entering.”

  “Nnn—” She stopped and her own smile dropped. She hadn’t thought about it that way. “Nnnnoooo,” she stammered. “Nnnot necessarily. The entering part, yes. The breaking part, no.”

  “It’s all the same,” Cain said and began circling the cabin, studying it. She grabbed the fawn’s leash and followed him.

  “We can get in. The window screens unscrew from the outside, and we can jimmy one of the windows open. Just need to find the right one.” He went up on tiptoe, looking into a window just over his head. He waved her over, but Tess stopped short. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to commit a crime. The idea that had seemed so innocent before now seemed so sinful. But I am a runaway, she told herself, and isn’t this what runaways do?
r />   “Hey, I thought you wanted to do this?” Cain asked.

  Tess nodded but still didn’t move. The look of annoyance on Cain’s face made her stomach knot and her mind began to race.

  What’s the worst that could happen to me? she asked herself. I get grounded? Been there, done that. I go to counseling? Ditto on that. I get sent to juvie lock up? OK. That’s a new one. She bit her lip again. Colleges probably won’t look favorably on that. But I won’t go to jail if no one finds out and who is going to find out way out here?

  “Hey. Hello,” Cain called, interrupting her stream of thought. “Come on. We haven’t got all day here.”

  She heaved. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  Tess twisted her blond hair up, securing it away from her face and on the top of her head as she and the fawn walked to him. Cain took the leash, then hoisted her up on his shoulders, and she went to work unscrewing the screen. How easily it came off surprised her. The windowpane itself was more difficult. She could see the window was unlocked because the pane hadn’t been closed all the way. It looked like it had been forcefully wedged into the frame and became stuck. She pushed and pounded on it for what seemed like an eternity. Just when Cain was about to call it quits and drop her, the pane gave way and flew open. “Ha!” she yelled smugly as Cain teetered beneath her.

  “Very good. Now, hurry up,” he pleaded. “You’re getting heavy.”

  Looking very much the cheerleader, she stood up on Cain’s shoulders and stepped each foot into the windowsill, then slowly sat down. Cain’s hand rested on her back as she eased herself down and into the cabin. Her foot landed on a small table, and she let out an alarmed cry as it wobbled precariously beneath her.

  “You OK?” Cain called.

  The table tumbled over and she threw herself forward, landing hard on her hands and knees and hitting her head on the bedpost.

  “Owwwwww,” she quietly moaned.

  “Tess?”

  “I’m OK. All good here,” she said, rubbing her head. “Meet you up front.”

  Tess left the small bedroom, making her way down an L-shaped hall, passing another bedroom and a bathroom, where she stopped and poked her head in. It held a toilet, a shower stall and a very small porcelain sink. Not bad. It will do, she thought, stepping in and looking into the mirror hanging above the sink. She was taken aback by the haggard reflection she saw there and began pushing and pulling at the oily hair sitting in a tousled knot on top of her head. She smoothed a few of the loose strands back before deciding it was useless and began poking and prodding her face instead. The skin around her eyes had a purple tint and her once porcelain complexion now looked ruddy and wind worn.

  She turned her face left and right before the mirror. At least I’ve got a natural blush going, but that’s about all I’ve got going for me right now, she thought. Her eyes suddenly locked on her neck and the fully exposed scar twisting across it. Tess froze, staring in shock at the mirror’s reflection. For the first time ever, she had forgotten about the scar. How was that possible? she wondered, tilting her head to the side and watching it snake its way under her shirt. Her hands flew to the knot of hair on her head ready to release it when a banging on the front door stopped her. She hesitated, hand hovering to the point of shaking, in the air. She heard the bang again, louder and more impatient than before. Grimacing hard, she forced her hand down. Giving the mirror one last uneasy look she left the bathroom, quickly continuing down the hallway that opened into a galley-style kitchen, and then into the front room.

  Cain was on the porch peeking into the windows, searching for her. He made a “what gives” gesture, so she smiled, waved, and made a sweeping head-to-toe gesture in return before letting him and the fawn in.

  The cabin had a musty smell to it, but it obviously wasn’t abandoned. Except for the bedroom window they had popped open, the place was sealed up tight. The furnishings and décor were minimal with just a few pictures on the walls, a few pieces of furniture in the rooms, a few dishes in the cabinets and—to Tess’s delight—a few towels in the bathroom. Cain had been right about the electricity, though. And no electricity meant no water.

  “I’ll try the circuit breakers and maybe there’s a well or something,” Cain offered when he saw the look of disappointment on her face. He found two buckets in a closet. “I’ll get water. You get some food for little guy over there.” He nodded to a corner armchair the albino fawn had nestled himself into.

  Tess laughed. “Looks like he’s called dibs on that for the night. I’ll see if I can find newspaper or something to put down. I’m sure he’s not potty trained.”

  The two left the cabin, her with the fawn and him with the buckets, and headed in opposite directions. Behind the cabin, tucked into the woods, Tess found a rectangular patch of overturned dirt that—although overgrown and untended now—was once some sort of garden. In it, large clumps of grasses grew, and the fawn went immediately to them and began munching. Tess looked up to the sky, letting the late afternoon sun warm her face, and took in the stillness of the surrounding woods as the fawn ate. Her ears picked up a sound that she thought was running water. The faint murmur pulled Tess away. When she walked as far as the leash would allow, she looped its handle over a tree and went farther into the woods. A small, rocky creek gurgling with water soon came into view and a smile lit up her face. She quickly turned and ran back to the fawn, grabbing fistfuls of the grasses and gathering as many sticks and branches as she could carry. When she returned to the cabin, she found Cain at the fireplace and heard the popping and crackling of burning wood.

  “We think alike,” she said, carrying the kindling she had collected to him. “Found these, too.” She waved the grasses. “He likes them—a lot,” she said as the fawn pranced over and pulled some of the greens from her hands.

  Cain surveyed their growing woodpile. “We will need more to get us through the night. I found newspapers and magazines.” He nodded to an end table with a built-in magazine rack.

  “And the creek. You found the creek?”

  “Uh-uh.” He nodded again, this time to the left as he continued stoking the fire.

  She spied the water buckets. “We’ll need to heat it,” she announced, and set off for the kitchen in search of pots. As she rummaged through the cabinets and closets, she continued to talk, raising her voice slightly as she moved so Cain could hear. “I’ll try to block the kitchen off so the fawn doesn’t make a mess of the entire house. Then lay some of the newspapers around.” She returned to the main room. “Hopefully, he’ll go on those instead of the furniture or the floor,” she said, handing Cain three pots of varying sizes and a couple dishtowels.

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” he chuckled.

  As Cain put the pots on the fire, Tess got busy moving furniture, sorting through the magazine rack and spreading newspaper.

  “Hey, did you see this?” she asked, holding out a brochure she had uncovered. He shook his head as he reached for it. “Looks like a map with tourist info,” she said. “There’s a bunch of that stuff in here.”

  He unfolded the map and let out a grunt. “Here we are.” He pointed to the map. “The big red arrow points right to cabin ten.”

  Tess looked up from the pile of papers and magazines in her lap with another brochure in hand. “We are in an old hunting camp. Cabin ten is the farthest out from the main lodge.”

  “And according to this map,” Cain interjected, “a convenience store is about a mile away.”

  Tess’s head turned toward the fireplace and then back to Cain, her green eyes sparkling. “I would kill for a hamburger or hotdog.”

  “We do think alike,” he said, meeting her eyes all smiles.

  “I’ll get ready first,” she said. The water on the fire was starting to steam and she could already feel how refreshing it would be.

  “I can go alone.” Cain’s gaze shifted to the window. “Be
sides, it’s going to get dark soon…”

  “I’ll be quick, promise. When we get back you can clean up, while I start the food. OK?” She nodded her head encouragingly.

  He started to object, but she didn’t let him. She patted the air with her palms. “I’ll be right out.” Tess scurried to the fireplace, grabbed a dishtowel and pulled the largest pot off the fire. She turned back to Cain before squeezing through her makeshift barricade. “Don’t leave without me.”

  But when she stepped out of the bathroom not ten minutes later, he was gone.

  ****

  In Cain’s absence, Tess collected more firewood and water, fed the fawn one of the formula bottles and filled the empty ones with the boiled water. She found a couple long, thin branches that would work well for hotdogs—if Cain returned with some, and a skillet for hamburgers—if he returned with those. She didn’t understand why he had left without her, but she had to admit she wasn’t surprised to find him gone. She was surprised to find herself not so much angry as disappointed and hurt. That made her think of her father. This was the fourth night that Tess had been gone from home, and she wondered if her father was feeling disappointed and hurt. Knowing her dad, he had probably called the police Friday night and by now had a whole posse out looking for her. No one would know to look here, though, and she was glad for that. She didn’t want to cause her father any pain—he had had enough of that—but she needed this adventure and wanted to see it through without any interference from him.

  When Cain returned just over an hour later, it was dusk, and she sat on the fireplace hearth drying her hair. She didn’t look up when she heard the cabin door open. She didn’t look up when she heard him walk across the creaky hardwood floor. She didn’t look up when she heard a paper bag crunching. And she didn’t look up when she felt him standing right next to her.

  “Oh, come on,” he pleaded. “I left so you could rest.”

  She still didn’t respond, just fluffed her semi damp hair.