“Where’s Aunt Leah?” Rainy asked.
“She is still asleep in your bed, missing all the fun,” Henry said with a little smile.
Rainy never ceased to be amazed at—and sometimes frustrated by—the situations Henry somehow found humorous.
“Let’s go back to my uncle’s cabin,” she said to Trevor. “We can talk there.”
While Rainy prepared tea, young Trevor sat slumped at her great-uncle’s table. He looked exhausted. Henry didn’t try to engage him in conversation, and Rainy thought maybe the old man was simply letting Trevor stew in the roil of his own anxieties for a while longer, to soften him further, perhaps. When the tea was ready—kava tea to help Trevor relax—she poured some for them all, then sat at the table. She looked at her great-uncle, and it was clear he intended to hold to his silence.
Trevor stared into his mug of tea. “I’m tired. I haven’t slept in forever. Can I sleep here?”
“First we talk,” Rainy said. “In order to help you, we need to know the truth.”
Trevor shook his head and sounded bewildered. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“With the Indians?”
“It goes so far back, before they ever contacted me. It’s really my grandfather’s fault.”
Blame. Rainy thought of it like a rabid skunk. Everyone stayed as far away from it as possible.
“Tell me about your grandfather.”
He looked at her with sick-puppy eyes. “Did you ever put out your arms to someone, you know, wanting a hug? And all you got in return was a cold stare? That’s my grandfather. The famous Mr. John W. Harris.”
“You never felt loved?”
“Not by him. From him, all I got was expectations. His favorite phrase was ‘Man up.’ When he sent Lindsay and me off to boarding school, he said, ‘Make me proud, boy.’ But it didn’t matter what I did, I never could make him proud.”
“And Lindsay?”
“I don’t know. I only saw her a few times every year. Not enough to be close, like brothers and sisters should be. So I don’t know about her and Grandpa John. I don’t think she hates him like I do.”
“Hate? Is that what you feel?”
He mulled that over. “Okay, maybe hate’s too strong. But if I disappointed him, let me tell you he was a terrible disappointment to me. Always gone building a dam somewhere, never time for us. Hell, it wasn’t our fault our folks got killed.”
“So you were never close. What does that have to do with these Indians?”
“I like to gamble, all right? Lindsay says I’m addicted. I think of it as a deep fascination. There’s an incredible beauty in it.”
“When you’re winning maybe,” Rainy said.
“You don’t get it. You never will,” he said, as if it was an argument he’d had so many times before that the thought of it bored him. “Anyway, I hit a streak of bad luck. It happens. This one was worse than any before. I owed big money to some people, not exactly patient people. I asked Grandpa John for help. He told me a man had to shoulder his own debts. I asked Lindsay. But she’s got student loans like a mountain on her back. Then I get a visit one day from a man. An Indian. Calls himself Mr. Black. He says he can help me. He tells me he can square my debts and fifty grand on top of that. I ask him what’s the catch. He says he wants to talk to my grandfather. That’s it? I say. Talk to John Harris? Then he lays it out for me. He wants me to get Grandpa John into the Boundary Waters. He’ll take it from there.”
“And then what?”
“They said they would return him unharmed when they got what they wanted from him.”
“Who’s they?”
“No idea, but it was clear this Mr. Black wasn’t operating alone and whoever was backing him had deep pockets.”
“What did they want from your grandfather?”
“Search me.” He took a sip of his tea. “I knew there was no way he would go with just me. So I talked to Lindsay, gave her some bull about wanting to reconnect with the old coot. She bought it. When I told Grandpa John that Lindsay was on board, he agreed.”
“Why the Boundary Waters?”
Trevor shrugged. “Got me.”
“Because,” Henry said, finally offering something, “a man may go missing in the wilderness for a hundred reasons. It is a mystery that may never be solved. But I think there is something else.”
Trevor waited, then said with a bit of impatience, “Well, what else?”
“Emerald Lake,” the old man said.
Trevor gave him a puzzled look.
“Your sister and Cork have been spotted,” Rainy said. “They were seen this morning at Emerald Lake, which is pretty far north in the Boundary Waters, almost to the Canadian border.”
“She’s okay?” The young man seemed genuinely relieved.
“As far as we know. A floatplane’s going out first thing tomorrow to locate them and pick them up.”
“Oh, thank God.” He sat back and looked as if a great weight had been lifted from him.
“Why did they take her?” Rainy asked.
“They told me Grandpa John wouldn’t give them what they wanted. They said they needed Lindsay.”
“And you gave them your sister?” Rainy made no effort to hide her dismay.
“They told me Grandpa John was fine, and that they wouldn’t hurt Lindsay. As soon as they had what they wanted, they’d let them both go. And neither of them would ever know I was involved.”
“And you believed them?”
Trevor wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“We always have a choice,” Henry said. “Yours was to sacrifice your sister.”
“She hasn’t been sacrificed, okay? Rainy just told me she’s all right.”
Rainy said, “Why did you think you had no choice?”
“They have evidence of everything. They told me they’d make sure it got to the cops.”
“Evidence of your involvement?”
He nodded. “They taped our conversations. They kept a record of all my texts and emails. They have video of me at the casino table, obviously involved in cheating. They had me by the nuts.”
“What was the cheating at the casino all about?”
“That’s how they paid me. If they just gave me the money and the IRS gets wind of my spending and I have no way to account for it, I’m screwed. But if I report winnings at a casino, it’s a reasonable explanation.”
“So why would they want to kill you?”
“After we found all that blood at Raspberry Lake, I panicked. I mean it looked like somebody was dead. I was afraid it might be Lindsay. When I got back to my hotel, I shot them a frantic text. They replied that Lindsay was fine. But I wasn’t sure if I could believe them.”
“You finally wondered about the truthfulness of these people you were dealing with?” Rainy said.
“Okay, I was a little stupid. I was desperate, all right?”
“What happened then?” Rainy said.
“I told them I needed proof.”
“And if you didn’t get it?”
“I said I’d go to the cops.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know. It was just a threat. Then I go out for dinner tonight, and when I come back to the hotel, the clerk tells me a couple of guys were looking for me. Indians. I head up to my room, but as I go to unlock the door, I hear something from inside. I run for the stairs, and I hear the door open behind me. Man, I’m running like crazy. Out to the parking lot, into my car, and then just driving. I don’t know where. There’s nobody up here I know. Nobody I can turn to. Hell, if I just drive away, they’ll find me. Whoever they are, they’re powerful and everywhere. I didn’t know what to do.” He looked at Rainy and her great-uncle with pleading eyes. “Then I thought of you.”
Henry said, in the v
oice he often used that could have calmed an angry bear, “And you made a choice. A good choice.” He leaned toward the young man and offered an encouraging smile. “I think you are finally ready to man up.”
CHAPTER 40
“Emerald Lake, Uncle Henry?”
They were waiting for the others to arrive on Crow Point. Rainy had called Daniel. He’d passed the word along to Cork’s family and then had called the sheriff. They were all on their way. Trevor Harris, who’d looked exhausted to the point of collapse, had borrowed Henry’s bunk and was asleep. Rainy and her great-uncle sat together at the table, talking quietly.
“You said Emerald Lake was important in why these people chose the Boundary Waters. What did you mean?”
“Not the lake itself. The route. From Miskominag,” Henry said, using the Ojibwe name for Raspberry Lake. “To Amik.”
“Beaver,” Rainy said, translating.
“That is what our people call the lake. The whites call it Mudd. From there to Ozhaawashko-manoomin.”
“Green rice?” Rainy said, translating once again.
“The whites call it Emerald,” Henry said. “From there they will travel to Chi Wajiw, what white mapmakers call Mountain Lake. Then to Mooz, and finally the great Lac La Croix, in Canada.”
“How do you know this?”
“When our brothers the Odawa joined us for war against our enemies, that is the route they followed. Not many remember. Whoever has taken Corcoran O’Connor and that young woman, they know the old way. They came from Canada, and to Canada they return. Whatever the reason behind all this evil, it comes from the north.”
In the corner of the cabin, Ember lifted his head and looked toward the cabin door, which opened a moment later, and Leah walked in. She appeared rested, her face relaxed, her eyes brighter and emptied of fear. From the bunk came the susurrus of Trevor’s deep breathing as he slept, and Leah glanced at him with surprise.
“What’s he doing here?”
“My bed was taken,” Rainy said. “You look much better.”
“I feel . . . unburdened. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense,” Rainy said. “Would you like some tea?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled at Henry. “May I sit?”
Henry indicated the empty chair.
Leah sat and reached both hands across the table, inviting Henry to take them, which the old man did.
“You know,” she said, “I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And you’re still beautiful. I don’t know what’s going to happen now, Henry, but I’m glad I came.”
When he replied, the ancient Mide’s brown eyes were as soft as Rainy had ever seen them. “You have traveled a long road, Leah. Maybe this is where it ends.”
Rainy heard, and she knew that her time there was, indeed, at an end.
When she saw the flashlight beams coming across the meadow, Rainy opened the door to Henry’s cabin and greeted the newcomers cheerfully. All of Cork’s family were there, except Rose, who’d stayed at the house to watch Waaboo. Inside the cabin, Leah Duling sat at the table, holding Henry’s hands. Asleep on the bunk was the young man who’d gone AWOL. The noise of all the arrivals didn’t seem to disturb him in the least.
While they waited for the sheriff to arrive, Rainy related the things that Trevor Harris had said, which surprised no one very much. Stephen filled Rainy and Henry in on what Marlee and Stella Daychild had told them, which seemed to go a long way in explaining Trevor’s “vision” of Stephen in the Arizona wilderness.
Ember, who’d been sitting patiently beside the door, rose to all fours and barked once. A moment later, there was a knock, and Marsha Dross joined the gathering. She hung her coat and was introduced to Leah Duling, then she went and stood over the sleeping figure of Trevor Harris.
“Never would have guessed,” she said. “I figured he’d be halfway back to Las Vegas by now.”
Rainy told Dross what she’d told the others, then the sheriff nodded toward the sleeping form and said, “Shall we invite him to the party?”
Henry said, “Let me wake him.”
The Mide stood and left the table. Dross stepped aside, and Henry sat on the edge of the bunk and reached out above the rise and fall of the young man’s chest. He lowered his hand until it almost touched, and he held it there for a few moments. Trevor Harris’s eyes slowly opened. The first thing he saw was the face of the old man smiling down at him.
“You are needed,” Henry said, as if Trevor were an important ally rather than one of the architects of whatever evil had come to Tamarack County.
Trevor sat up and looked around the crowded room, and Rainy saw fear in his eyes.
Henry said, “There is nothing here to be afraid of. These people have all come seeking your help. In turn, they may be able to help you and your sister.”
The young Harris swung his legs off the bunk and rubbed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He looked up at Henry, who smiled encouragingly.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“Tell me about your vision,” Henry said.
“Bogus. I made it up from the things I was told. Except the Shakespeare quotes. That was my own creative addition.” This last part was said with a little note of pride.
“Who told you these things?” Henry asked.
“I don’t know. I got everything anonymously, through texts or emails or phone calls.”
“I’ll need your cell phone,” Dross said. “And your computer.”
“Good luck,” Trevor said. “I get the feeling these people know how to cover their tracks.”
“But they’re slipping up,” Daniel said. “We have you and we know about Trudeau.”
“What’s Trudeau’s part in all this?” Dross said.
Trevor looked puzzled. “I don’t know who that is.”
“He manages the Chippewa Grand Casino. He’s the one who’s been seeing to it that you get your payoff.”
“I don’t know anything about that. I was just told to play the blackjack table and everything else would be taken care of.”
Dross said, “After we have Cork and your sister safely out of the Boundary Waters, I’ll pull Trudeau in and see what we can get from him.”
“They will not be on Emerald Lake tomorrow,” Henry said. “Look for them north, on Mountain Lake or Moose.”
“How do you know?” the sheriff asked.
And the old man explained about the ancient warpath.
Rainy finally put a question to Trevor that no one had yet asked. “Why? What are they after?”
Trevor Harris said, “I don’t know. I honest to God don’t know the why of any of this.”
“We’ll know more tomorrow,” Dross promised. “I swear I’ll sit on Ben Trudeau until he breaks.”
“Tomorrow, when Dad and Lindsay Harris are safe,” Stephen said and lifted his hand as if in a toast to that near horizon.
“Tomorrow,” Rainy agreed.
She looked to Henry for confirmation, but the old Mide sat in silence.
CHAPTER 41
Another hard, cold, interrupted night in the wilderness, and when Cork woke in the morning, there wasn’t a place on his whole body that didn’t hate him and let him know it. The cut the woman had delivered across his side stung like ants were feasting there. Cork could see that the tall man had risen early. He stood by the fire he’d long ago stoked to flame. The rifle hung from a sling over his shoulder. Cork smelled coffee and saw a pot sitting among the coals. For that alone, he could have called the tall man brother.
Cork was surprised to see that the cloud cover had broken, and its remnants were tinted by the rising sun with a burnt-orange hue. The tops of the pine trees were burnished with sunlight as well. With the clearing of the sky, the temperature overnight had dropped, and Cork could feel the freeze on his
face.
The sour woman was coming from the woods, her hands freed from the tape that had bound them the night before. Lindsay Harris was stirring awake in her sleeping bag. Bird didn’t move a muscle.
Cork threw his blankets aside. “Mind cutting me free?” He held out his bound wrists.
The tall man cut the tape around his wrists and ankles. Cork slowly stood up, trying not to groan too audibly.
“Not a place for sissies,” the tall man said.
Cork walked to the fire and looked longingly at the pot where the coffee was boiling. “I’ve done the Boundary Waters all my life. If I’d been on a trip like this before, I would never have made another.”
“My father lived without electricity or running water the whole of his life,” the tall man said. “The nearest settlement was a two-day paddle. Like ironwood, his muscles and spirit. There’s a lot to be said for hardship.”
Mrs. Gray joined them, and cast a scowl toward Bird. “You should wake him up. We need to be gone.”
“There’s ice on the lake,” the tall man said. “We’ll wait for the sun to rise higher, warm the water some, maybe weaken that ice.”
“More delay,” the woman said. “We should have been out of here a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t do us any good, speaking of what should have been,” the tall man said. “We need to be talking possibilities.”
“It’s possible we’re screwed,” the woman said.
She spun away and went to the lakeshore, probably to judge for herself the truth of what the tall man had said.
Lindsay Harris crawled from her sleeping bag, and the tall man cut her bonds. She reached back inside her bag for her coat and boots, which she quickly put on. She hurried to the fire and stood with the men, her breath crystallizing in white puffs.
“Jesus, it’s cold,” she said.
“It will get colder,” the tall man said.
Lindsay looked up where the clouds continued to thin and break and give the sky over to great channels of blue. “Not today.”
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