by Doug Allyn
“We have some of the same friends,” Calderon conceded. “Which is why I’m sure my brother’s disappearance isn’t connected to anything back home.”
“But it could be,” Charlie said. “And from where I’m sitting, it’s a helluva lot more likely than Walt McClain hiding out under my nose. So I’ll tell you what, Mr. Calderon, we’re gonna do a deal, you and me. I’ll run a quiet background check on anyone who even vaguely matches up with these sketches, work records, driver’s licenses, and fingerprints if anything seems even slightly hinky. If I turn up Walt, I’ll fall on him like a landslide. But if they all check out clean, I want your word you’ll go back to Norfolk and leave the McClain family alone. God knows they’ve had trouble enough because of him.”
“How do I know you’ll actually investigate anything?”
“Because I just said so. Do you think I’d lie about a thing like this?”
Ray eyed him a moment, then shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t believe you would. Fair enough. If you can’t shake anything loose, I’ll go.”
“Good. I’ll take your word for it. Especially since I can make damn sure you keep it. I’ll take the sketches and you take yourself a nice vacation. And I’d better not hear that you’re harassing anyone. Clear?”
“I’ll stay out of your way,” Ray said. “Good luck.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Charlie said, rising. “Mitch, you take care.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, then turned abruptly and made his way out through the dinner crowd.
“A very tactful guy,” Calderon said, watching Charlie stalk off. “I think he wanted to warn you about me, but didn’t want to step over the line. Your line, not mine.”
“Warn me about what? That you’re a colorful character?”
“I plead guilty to being a character,” he said. “But color’s kind of in the eye of the beholder, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that you gave up that sketch book without much of an argument. And I’m wondering why.”
Calderon mulled the question over a moment, then shrugged. “The bottom line is, I believed him when he said he wants to nail this bastard as badly as I do. Plus, he knows the town and he can check out the people on that pad a lot more efficiently than I could.”
“True,” I said. “But there’s more to it, isn’t there? I can’t see you sitting around waiting for Charlie to turn something up. What are you going to do?”
“Since I’m technically on vacation, I think I’ll take in some of the countryside.”
“The countryside?”
“Right. The way I figure it, if Jimmy’s death wasn’t accidental, then there’s a reason why his body hasn’t turned up.”
“How do you mean?”
“The way I read McClain, he’s a headstrong, spoiled punk who turns violent when anyone crosses him. Let’s say he came on Jimmy after he left the house, maybe followed him, stopped him somewhere. They had words — and Walt killed him. Now he’s got a big problem. If the body turns up showing signs of violence, there’s a damned short list of suspects. But if Jimmy’s car is found in the river with no body in it, it’s an accident. Case closed. So maybe we didn’t find the body in the water because it was never there.”
“And where do you think it is?”
“I was hoping you could help me with that. I’d guess it would be somewhere nearby. He didn’t have time to do anything very complicated.”
“Even so, there’s a lot of open country around here, Ray, thousands of acres of state forest. Only...”
“Only what?”
“It’s bow-hunting season,” I said slowly. “Bow hunters are out in all kinds of weather, and most of them are pretty fair trackers. I don’t think he’d risk running into someone on open land or having a hunter stumble across the body. And he might not have to.”
“Why not?”
“Because the McClain family owns quite a lot of property in the area. Private land he’d probably be familiar with.”
“How much land?”
“A lot,” I said. “Hang on a moment, and I can tell you exactly how much.” I stepped into my office, rummaged through my desk and came up with a county plat-map pamphlet. I sat down beside Ray and flipped it open.
“These maps show property ownership for the county. According to this, the McClains own... several thousand acres.”
“Are you familiar with any of these places?”
“Some of them,” I said. “This twelve-hundred-acre section here is the plant. It’s fenced, well lighted, and runs three shifts, twenty-four hours a day.”
“Unlikely then. What’s this piece along the shoreline?”
“That’s the estate, where we were the first night. Possible, I suppose, but there are neighbors... I don’t think so.”
“What about this big area over here?”
“That’s hill country, southwest of the town,” I said. “It’s undeveloped, no houses. Loggers occasionally do some cutting up there, but that’s about it.”
“Fenced?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been up there in years. As I recall, there are old logging trails in and out of it.”
“Can I get in there with a car?”
“It would be difficult, the roads are pretty rough. A vehicle with higher suspension would be better, say a pickup or a van. But I don’t think you realize how big an area we’re talking about. It would take an army to search it all.”
“I won’t have to search it all. It was raining, remember, and Jimmy weighed one eighty. If he’s up there, he’ll be near a road. Where can I rent a pickup?”
“You won’t have to,” I said. “If you’re dead set on crashing around up there, you can borrow my Jeep.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“No problem. It just sits here all day when I’m working, and you may need the four-wheel drive. Besides, in a way I’ve been involved in this from the first. I’d like to see it through.”
“Then I gratefully accept.”
“Fine, I’m here every morning at eight, you can pick it up any time after that. There is one thing though. A lot of the trails up there are visible from the town. You,ll almost certainly be noticed, so watch yourself. Oh, and wear a blaze orange vest. It’s bow-hunting season. It’d be a shame if a guy who’s trying so hard to get killed on purpose got shish-kebobbed by accident.”
“I’ll bear it in mind,” he said, smiling. “I insist on paying for the use of your vehicle, though. And I’d like to ask one other favor. A big one.”
“Which is?”
“Have dinner with me tonight. My treat. And let’s talk about something else. Anything.”
I hesitated. I’d been half expecting this. And I’d already decided to keep my distance. God knows my life was complicated enough without someone new in it. And yet...
I said yes. And we had dinner, and lingered, and talked. About everything. What it was like growing up a tomboy in a northwoods town, doing a man’s work from the time I was fifteen. And he told me about his boyhood on interchangeable naval bases with a stepfather who was always at sea. He had less to say about his present life, only that he’d been hoping to straighten Jimmy out.
Our tastes were markedly different, in music, movies, everything. All we seemed to have in common was a mutual lone-wolf wariness. And chemistry, of course. Serious chemistry. The kind that makes differences seem unimportant. At first. I think I felt it the first time I saw him at the river. I expected it to fade.
But it didn’t. Over the next few days, Ray borrowed my Jeep every morning and returned at dusk, tired, but not discouraged. And we had dinner. And talked. And we became... friends. Who might become lovers in time. I sensed it, and so did he. It didn’t need to be said. Or rushed. It would happen. And then too many things began to happen. Too fast.
I was in my office at the Nest finishing up the dive-shop inventory. Hannah McClain rapped once, sharply, then stalked in. “We need to talk,” she said curtly, closing the door behi
nd her. She was dressed for shopping, an ankle-length muted tweed skirt and jacket. Her makeup was immaculate and I envied her. If I wear anything more complicated than lipstick and a trace of blush I look like a Halloween hooker. It must be a great comfort to know that first grim look in your morning mirror can be improved on.
But if marrying money had improved her clothes and her look, some things hadn’t changed. She’d always been working-girl direct with me. And she still was.
“I understand this guy Calderon’s been driving your wheels,” she said brusquely. “Have you two got something going?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Look, don’t play coy with me, Mitch, this is serious. If you care about him at all, you’ve got to get him to move on before he gets hurt.”
“Why should he get hurt? What’s wrong?”
“It’s... Wally,” she sighed, slumping down into the chair facing my desk. “Ever since Calderon’s brother showed up he’s been coming unglued. We had it out last night, and he told me he’d been waiting for something like this to happen all his life.”
“What do you mean, waiting for it?”
“Wally blames himself for his mom being crippled. He was four when she got pregnant the second time, and he was jealous, afraid the baby’d take his place. He wanted it to go away. He even prayed it would. So when Audrey fell and lost the kid, he figured it was his fault. And he’s been afraid ever since that she’d find out and dump him, I guess. Which may be why we’re married three years and still live with his mom and he’s afraid to have kids... Ah hell, what a mess.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples, massaging them.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I need your help. You were always decent to me in school when a lot of kids treated me like white trash. I know everyone in town figures I screwed Wally into marrying me. Well, maybe I did. Nothing ever came easy for me. But I didn’t do it just for the money. And right now I’m willing to drop a fair chunk of cash to avoid trouble. How much would Calderon want to back off? Just go away?”
“I’m not sure,” I said carefully.
“Well, the most I can scrape together’d be six, seven grand if I sell some things Wally gave me. It’ll have to be enough. It’s not like he’s entitled to anything, you know. His brother was, maybe, but not him. Anyway, that’s the best I can do.”
“Why do anything? Why do you want him to go?”
“Because I’m afraid of what Wally might do. He’s a terrific guy in a lot of ways, but on this one subject he’s as crazy as his old man ever was. And he’s not the only one. His fat-ass uncle Gordon, the ex-con? Ever since Audrey took him on at the plant he’s been looking for an angle, a way to buddy up to Wally, and he figures this is it. Calderon’s obviously checking things out up in the hills. And Gordon’s saying he’s sizing up the McClain property getting ready for a lawsuit that’ll throw everybody out of work.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“I know it, and maybe Wally even knows it. But some of the mouth-breathers that do scutwork at the plant don’t. And they can be dead serious when it comes to protecting their jobs. Mitch, you’ve got to call this guy off or he’s gonna end up like his brother.”
“What do you know about his brother?”
“Only what I heard the other night. He went to the plant, then the house, then apparently wound up in the river. That’s really all I know, except that I was surprised when Audrey said Ross wasn’t there.”
“You mean he was?”
“I don’t know, but he almost never leaves the house, even on his days off. He’s always suckin’ around Audrey, or me. God, I want to get out of that damned tomb and get a place of our own. But it’ll never happen if Wally winds up in jail for beating your pal half to death. How about it? Can we do a deal?”
“Maybe we could if it was up to me,” I said honestly, “but it’s not. Ray doesn’t want money, he’s trying to find his brother. And I don’t think he’ll leave until he does.”
“Then maybe he won’t leave at all,” she said coldly, rising to go. “Do me a favor. Tell Calderon if he’s so dead set on committing suicide to take a header off the Mackinac bridge. The view’s terrific and it’d be a lot less trouble for the rest of us. I’ll see you, Mitch.” And she stalked out. She had looks, money, and social position. But I didn’t envy her. Not even a little.
“What do you expect me to do?” Ray asked at dinner that night. “Pack it in because some local rednecks are getting antsy? Stirring up the locals was part of the plan, remember?”
“Wrong. The plan was to draw Walter into the open if he’s here. This is different. The people up here are different, Ray. Nobody lives in the north country because it’s a great career move. They stay here for the lakes, and the hills. And the hunting. This is gun country. NRA heaven.”
“The whole U.S. is gun country nowadays,” Ray said mildly. “But maybe it doesn’t matter. I’m nearly finished. I might’ve found something interesting today, though.”
“Interesting how?”
“It may be nothing. I came on it at dusk, and I’ll have to scout the area to see if there’s been any activity recently. But I’ve got a feeling... Do you work Sundays?”
“No, not usually. Why?”
“I might need a little help. If you’re free Sunday.”
“What kind of help? And why me and not Charlie?”
“Maybe I just prefer your company. In fact, I think I’d rather spend time with you than anyone else on the planet. Would that be so hard to understand?”
Our eyes met, and held. And suddenly we’d entered dangerous ground. And I wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. I didn’t know him well enough, and I knew Charlie didn’t trust him. And so I deftly changed the subject, and he was courteous enough to let me. I wish to God he hadn’t been.
I read it in Charlie Bauer’s face the moment he stepped into the Nest the next afternoon. Serious trouble. I was working in my office, but I rose involuntarily and walked out to meet him as he crossed the room. “What’s happened?” I said.
“Calderon,” he said simply. “He’s been shot.”
I felt as though someone had turned the volume down on the room. “Is he alive?” I asked. And suddenly my eyes were stinging.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, glancing away, “but he’s in rough shape. Real rough. He may not make it.”
“I’ll get my coat.”
“There’s no rush,” Charlie said, following me into the office and closing the door. “He’s still in surgery at County General and he’ll be in intensive care after that. No visitors. But maybe you can help. Do you know where he was today?”
“No, I... In the hills, I think. Why?”
“We’re trying to trace his movements. He cracked your Jeep up just outside the city limits on River Road. Sideswiped a parked car and spun broadside. A couple of Canadian tourists stopped to help. They said he was weaving before the crash but no other cars were near him, so apparently he was shot somewhere else and he was trying to make it to town.”
“How seriously is he hurt?”
“As bad as it gets. He was shot in the head, probably with a small-caliber handgun at close range. The wound showed powder burns. His skull’s fractured, his left eye is gone and the other one’s severely injured. So even if he survives the surgery...”
I sat down on the edge of my desk. Had to, or I would have fallen. “He’ll be blind?” I said, my voice barely a whisper. And for a moment I was in the river again, groping around in the rental car. Lost in black water. Forever.
“Maybe not,” Charlie said carefully. “But... Yeah, maybe. If he makes it at all.” He opened my liquor cabinet, poured a stiff brandy into a snifter, and held it out to me. “Here, you look like you need this.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll — I’ll be all right in a minute.”
Charlie hesitated, then knocked back half the brandy with a single swallow. And somehow seeing that snapped me out of the fog.
“You don’t drink,” I said. “I’ve never even seen you sip a beer.”
“That’s because you usually see me on duty.”
“You’re on duty now.”
“That’s right,” he said. He drank the rest of the brandy, baring his teeth against the sting. “God, Mitch, what the hell’s happening? We’ve got a quiet little town here, and all of a sudden I’ve got one man missing, probably dead, and now his brother’s been shot. Jesus, it was awful, blood all over...” His voice was trembling, and he stopped suddenly. “I’m sorry. I’ve seen bodies before. Maybe too many. You said he was up in the hills? What was he doing there?”
“Looking for his brother. He thought Walt might have hidden the body on land his family owns.”
“I see. Well, he couldn’t have been shot up there. There’s no way he could have driven those roads in the shape he was in. Maybe he can tell us when he comes around. If he does. I’d better get back to the hospital. Would you like to come along?”
“Yes,” I said.
County General was abustle, as usual. A harried intern in a blood-spattered smock told us Ray was still in surgery, still critical. They were trying to contact a specialist from the University of Michigan to do the surgery on his right eye. If Ray survived the night.
Charlie and I sat quietly on plastic chairs in the hall. I don’t know how long we waited. An hour or so. At some point I began to shiver uncontrollably and Charlie draped his jacket over my shoulders. And then his beeper went off. He used the phone at the nurse’s station.
“I’ve gotta go, Mitch,” he said, kneeling beside me. “Got a three-car pileup on south twenty-three. You gonna wait here?”
I nodded.
“Okay. If he regains consciousness, you ask him who shot him. Nothing else, at least not at first. Okay?”
I nodded again, and Charlie trotted off, grateful to be moving, I think. A half-hour later a nurse in surgical greens came out, holding a plastic packet at arm’s length in front of her.
“Dr. Kienzle said there’s no point in your waiting. They’re going to insert a cranial shunt to try to control the cerebral edema. The patient won’t regain consciousness for at least eight hours, maybe longer. These are his clothes. Do you have gloves?”