“And Gannon, I assume.” I rubbed my wrist, where the cuff had been.
“Yes, of course. I could see the body from the plane. I waited there for a couple of hours until they came and got me.”
“I’m sorry about your partner.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“I talked to him while I was waiting. I promised him I’d find out what really happened out there.”
“I want to know just as badly as you do,” I said. “Have they figured out when Albright and those other men were killed? Tom, I mean.”
“They think about ten days ago. Long before you ever got there.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s right.”
“One of the men at the crime scene must have seen your truck go by. Apparently, he mentioned this to Claude, so Claude went up there and saw your truck parked outside the Berards’ house.”
“And he must have figured—”
“That you didn’t go home like we told you. That you got Guy and his grandfather to fly you up to the lake. The Berards told me what happened, McKnight. They said Claude was so mad at you guys, he wanted to fly out there and bring you back, and then kick your asses all the way back to Michigan. He could’ve called it in, had one of the OPP planes fly up there to pick you up. But he didn’t. You wanna know why?”
I had a sick feeling I already knew the answer. “Why?” “He told them that if he called it in and they had to get a plane up there, then both of you would definitely be charged with felony obstruction, and that the Berards might even be charged, too. As mad as he was at you guys, he still didn’t want to see you in serious trouble. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“He wasn’t about to fly out there in Mr. Berard’s plane, though. Did you know that plane is supposed to be out of service?”
“No.”
“He stopped doing fly-in hunts three years ago. He was supposed to get it inspected and recertified before taking it up again. So Claude took Mr. Berard’s keys and told them both to sit tight. He said he’d give Hank Gannon a call over at the lodge. His plane was faster, anyway.”
“You didn’t know anything about this?”
“I was back at the station. He knew I wouldn’t have let him go out there. That’s the kind of thing he’d do all the time, McKnight. He used to drive me crazy.”
She shook her head, almost smiling.
“I don’t know if I would have made him call it in or not,” she said, “but at least I would have made him take me with him.”
“If you had gone,” I said, “you’d probably be dead now.”
“He wouldn’t have gotten both of us.”
“If you weren’t expecting it,” I said, “and if he had gotten both of you in front of him—”
“You guys would have been his out,” she said. “Gannon would have made it look like it was all on you.”
“It really was just him? Nobody else from the lodge was involved?”
“It doesn’t look like it. It turns out Helen and the Trembleys weren’t even around last Saturday. That’s the day those men supposedly flew back.”
“I knew about Helen not being there. Trembley, that’s Ron and Millie, right?”
“Yeah. They were all in Timmins that day, buying storage containers, so they could pack everything up and move.”
“So you talked to them,” I said. “I mean, since yesterday—”
“Three months, McKnight. He was three months away from retirement. This was like the last thing he could do for somebody. Flying out there like a cowboy, getting you and your friend out of there, saving you from going to jail. That was the last big stupid thing he was gonna do before he retired.”
I closed my eyes.
“The Berards waited around all day yesterday. By this morning, when they still hadn’t heard anything, they finally decided they had to call us. I went up there, got the whole story from them, drove over to the lodge. The plane wasn’t there. Everybody was gone. The whole place was closed up. We tried reaching him on the radio—”
She stopped. She looked out the window.
“The Northeast regional commander himself called me and asked me how I could not know where my own partner was for a day and a half. Then he told me to get over to the airport, because I was going out to help look for him.”
She rattled the cuffs around, and then pulled them tight.
“Gannon killed him. He flew him up there and killed him. He shot him right in the back. While I stayed behind, not doing a damned thing.”
I let the silence hang there for a moment, not sure if I should say anything. “Do you have any idea what this is all about?” I finally said. “I mean, once it was done, he was afraid of what your partner would find up there. That almost makes sense. But to kill those other men like that in the first place—”
“We don’t know, McKnight.”
“Those men were all from Detroit. You’ve got no idea how they figured into this?”
“Not right now.”
“This isn’t over,” I said. “We’ve got to find out what happened.”
She looked at me. “I’m not going to talk about this anymore. You need to go home and get well. And cooperate with whoever you need to, back in Michigan.”
“I’m free to go?”
“Yes, you are.”
“And Vinnie?”
“Yes.”
“I lost my partner, too,” I said.
She took a moment to think about it. “When was this?”
“In Detroit, when I was a cop. My partner and I were both shot. He died. I didn’t. I spent a lot of time blaming myself.”
“So you’re saying you know how it feels.”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn’t have hit you before,” she said. “But if I don’t get out of here right now, I swear I’m gonna do it again.”
“I understand.”
“Like hell you do,” she said. And then she left.
Chapter Twenty
An hour later I was standing. That was my big accomplishment so far that day. It felt like somebody had put needles all over the floor, but I was on my feet and that meant I could move around and maybe even get out of there. I was slowly walking around the bed when Guy and Maskwa appeared in the doorway. Maskwa came right up to me and grabbed both of my arms.
“Alex,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m standing,” I said. “That’s enough for right now.”
He kept studying me. “You look terrible.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “Have you seen Vinnie?”
“Yes. His face—”
“He was actually very lucky. Although I’m sure he doesn’t feel that way.”
Maskwa looked at his grandson, then back at me, shaking his head slowly. “We are so sorry,” he said. “We were trying to do the right thing.”
“I know, Maskwa. Nobody could have imagined this.”
“The constable wouldn’t let us fly back to get you. He told us he was going to go get you himself.”
“He may have saved your lives.”
He looked at me close. “DeMers. That was his name, right?”
“Yes.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“At least we found Tom,” I said. “At least we did that much.”
“You are a good friend, Alex. And now Vinnie needs you more than ever. Time will heal his body, but his spirit … It is very sick. You must know that.” “We’ll take care of him,” I said. “I will, and his family.”
“Good, good. And if you ever need anything from us. Anything. You call us.”
“There is one thing.” I said.
“Anything.”
I gave him my keys. “I left my truck at your house.”
He laughed. “Of course. We’ll bring it over.”
While I was waiting for them, I asked the nurse for something to put on my feet. She brought me some slippers that looked like folded-up old newspapers, maybe size 15 or so.
They barely fit on my swollen feet. After a couple more minutes of practice, I went padding down the hall at one mile per hour until I found Vinnie’s room. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard. The entire Hearst Medical Center might have had ten rooms total, and Vinnie’s was two doors down from mine.
He was lying on the bed when I came in. The whole right side of his face was bandaged, and his feet were propped up in the air, just like mine had been. He was staring at the ceiling.
“Vinnie,” I said.
He looked over at me, then down at my feet. “Nice slippers.”
“Are you all right?”
“Never better.”
“Vinnie, I’m serious. Are you okay?” If his spirit was sick, like Maskwa had said, I couldn’t see it.
He sat up in the bed. “They told me your feet were twice as bad as mine. We’re gonna have to get you some better boots next time.”
“Next time, eh?”
“I promised to buy you a beer,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
We found our clothes, signed some papers, and then waited for a prescription for Vinnie. An hour later, the staff sergeant came to see us one more time. He asked us a couple more questions, nothing he hadn’t asked before. He seemed reluctant to let us go, but finally he did. We stood by the front door, waiting for Guy and Maskwa to bring the truck around. It was a decent day for October in Ontario—no snow, no rain. The temperature was even above freezing. It made it a little easier to walk outside in our cheap slippers when the truck showed up. We said goodbye to Guy and Maskwa again, and then we were finally on our way home. It was hard to feel the pedals under my feet, but I made do. As we left the medical center, I couldn’t help noticing that the flag was flying at half-mast.
“Do you think you should call home?” I said.
“The constable told me she already called them yesterday.”
“She called your mother?”
“Yes, she did. She told her I’d be home soon.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “How come they’re not here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your whole family. I’m surprised they weren’t camped out in the parking lot.”
“I didn’t want them to come up here,” he said. “I’m not ready to see them yet.”
“Well, it was good of her to call your family. Especially after what she went through herself yesterday.”
He looked at me. “Are you surprised?”
“No. She just didn’t seem very happy with us today.”
He looked back out the window. “Can you blame her?”
“That reminds me,” I said, picking up the phone. “Remember we had all those messages? As long as we’re still in town, with the cell tower …” I turned on the phone and checked the missed calls.
“Twenty-seven calls in all,” I said. “They just kept calling me.”
“When was the last call?”
“Let’s see. Yesterday. Around two o’clock.”
“None since then? They just stopped?”
“Yes.”
“They must have found out,” he said. “That guy who called you, didn’t he say he was Red’s brother?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“So I guess I know how he feels.” He kept looking out the window.
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose so.”
He didn’t say anything. I kept driving. I couldn’t help thinking about the man’s voice, the faraway voice of Red Albright’s brother—he had come all the way up here himself, just as we had done. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on. I couldn’t blame him for that, despite his lack of manners. He just wanted to know.
And now he did.
Home was eight hours away, down the same roads we had already driven on, through the same trees. It was only a few days before, but now it all felt different. The whole world had changed.
Vinnie slept for a while. He almost looked peaceful, until I’d hit a bump or until his mind would cycle through all the things he’d seen and he’d wake up with a start.
“Alex,” he said, more than once, with a sudden panic in his voice.
“It’s okay, Vinnie. We’re almost home. Go back to sleep.”
I stopped at a gas station in Wawa. I got out and pumped the gas, standing there in my cheap slippers and my coat covered with dried mud. I shifted my weight back and forth from one burning foot to the other. When I paid the man, he looked at me like I was a mental patient.
The day dragged on. I kept driving. I was tired, but I’d be damned if I was going to stop anywhere short of home. From Wawa we drove south along the shores of Lake Superior, around Batchawana Bay, into Soo Canada. We were so close to home now. All we had to do was get over the bridge.
“Oh, horseshit,” I said. “They’re gonna take one look at us and … God damn it.”
I picked up the cell phone and called information, got through to the OPP station in Hearst, and asked if Constable Reynaud was still around. A minute later, I heard her voice.
“Constable,” I said. “You’re still there. This is Alex.”
“What is it, McKnight?”
“We’re coming up to the bridge. Any chance you could call ahead and clear the way for us?”
“You’re all the way down there already? You shouldn’t have driven so far in your condition. It’s not safe.”
“I would have thought you’d be happy to get us out of the country.”
“Don’t get cute with me, McKnight. All right? It’s bad enough.”
“I’m sorry. We just want to get home.”
“I’ll call right now,” she said. “I’ll tell them to expect two men who look like shit.”
“That sounds about right,” I said. “Vinnie tells me you called his mother personally. I’m glad I got the chance to thank you for that.”
There was a silence on the line. “Mrs. LeBlanc sounded like a good woman,” she said. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Good night,” I said. “I’m sorry about your partner.”
She hung up.
I rolled through town and onto the International Bridge. Vinnie woke up and looked out at the water. “The bridge,” he said.
“Don’t worry, they know we’re coming.”
When we pulled into the American customs booth, the man had obviously gotten the message. He looked us both over and whistled. “They said you’d look bad, but good Lord.”
The sun was going down when we hit Michigan soil. We had forty-five minutes to go. Forty-five minutes to my own bed.
I drove the roads I knew so well, from Soo Michigan to Paradise, through the Hiawatha National Forest, along the southern rim of Whitefish Bay. It was too dark to see the water now. The sign on the edge of town said WELCOME TO PARADISE! WE’RE GLAD YOU MADE IT! I drove by the sign, stopped at the blinking red light, went past Jackie’s place to our access road.
Drop Vinnie off at his house, I thought. Get him inside, make sure he’s comfortable. Then go home and go to bed. And sleep for at least three days.
As I pulled onto my road, I was blinded by a pair of headlights.
“Who the hell?” I couldn’t imagine who was on their way out. Then I remembered all the hunters who were due to check out of my cabins. I would have been back in plenty of time to see them off, if everything hadn’t gone to hell.
I stopped the truck and opened my door. It was a long, black sedan. I didn’t recognize it. Two men got out.
They weren’t hunters. That was obvious. Then it came to me. The two FBI guys said they’d be in touch. They didn’t waste any time.
But I was wrong again. It wasn’t the FBI. I realized that as soon as I saw their faces, and the guns in their hands.
They had my cell phone number. With a little work, you could find out my address. And here they were.
They were on top of us before I could do a thing. No time to back up, no time to get out and run—not that we would have been able to run, anyway.
“Out of the truck,” the one man
said. He said it in a matter-of-fact way, the way you’d tell a mover where to put the furniture. The guy on Vinnie’s side, he looked a little more serious about it. He had a big nose, but with all the advance publicity, I was expecting something even bigger.
I looked at my man closely as I got out. He was thick in the neck and shoulders, the way an old football player would look, years after he’s stopped playing. My guess was linebacker turned nightclub bouncer. He had a nice leather jacket on, a high forehead with thinning hair on top. I understand steroids are murder on the hair. There was a diamond earring in his right ear.
“Nice and easy,” he said. He gave me a quick pat-down and turned me around to face the other man across the bed of my truck. The whole scene was side-lit by the glare of the headlights.
“Which one of you is McKnight?” the man with the nose said. Red’s brother. He was smaller, built more like a baseball player. He had a leather jacket on, too—probably a size L to my man’s XXL. He was using a gun a lot more, holding it right to Vinnie’s temple, just above the tape.
“I am,” I said. I looked at Vinnie. He was doing just fine, all things considered.
“And you’re the Indian?” He pulled his head back by the hair.
Vinnie didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
“Start talking.”
“About?”
“Why did you call Red?”
“We were looking for my brother,” Vinnie said. “Red hired him as a guide.”
“Yeah, I know that.”
“Then what do you want from us?”
Easy, Vinnie. I tried to catch his eye.
“What I want from you, you stupid fucking Indian, is the whole story.” He got a tighter hold on Vinnie’s hair, came closer to him, put his face right next to Vinnie’s. “What the fuck happened up there?”
“Did the police call you?”
“They called his wife. They said he was buried in the ground up there.”
“They all were. My brother, your brother. All of them.”
The man shook his head. “Who did this?”
“We don’t know,” Vinnie said. “We know a man named Gannon was involved. That’s all.”
“No. No, that’s not good enough. You hear me? That’s not fucking good enough. My brother is dead. And I want to know why.”
Blood Is the Sky: An Alex McKnight Mystery (Alex McKnight Mysteries) Page 19