Chapter Four
Five hundred miles. Paradise, Michigan, to Toronto, Ontario. Across the International Bridge, then up around the North Channel, right through Blind River in fact, past the house where Natalie grew up. Turning south finally around Sudbury, down the eastern edge of Lake Huron, through Big Chute, through Barrie. Finally coming to the city itself, on the northern shore of Lake Ontario.
Or if you’re a bird, you fly right over all that water. Like many other things in this life, how much quicker it is if you don’t have to go around something so unimaginably big.
Or in my case…It’s almost immediate. I’m already there, in my mind, a thousand times every day. When I open my eyes in the morning, cold sunlight in my cabin window, I’m thinking about her doing the same in her own bed. Somehow I can feel that she is awake at the same moment I am. I can hear the shower as she steps into it. I know how long it takes her to be ready to face the day. Her hair dried, a few brush strokes across her cheeks. That’s all she needs. How much she hates to waste time.
I know when she’s driving her Jeep. The music she is listening to. The sounds of a city all around her. It’s a miracle that I know this, moment to moment. A miracle both wonderful and terrible at the same time. After so many years, to feel this way.
I don’t know how long it can last. Even now, I can feel it start to fade sometimes. A faraway station on the radio, lost in the air. In the mornings especially, when she goes to the operations room instead of to the precinct. Her whole routine different now. I have to ask her about it after the fact to fill in the blanks. That she has to take more time in the morning to put herself together. That she’s already wearing her undercover clothes when she drives into the city. That she’s still meeting with the task force before she heads out to the coffee shop.
It’s become a regular thing now. Seeing Rhapsody there, spending a few minutes at one of the tables. It’s hard for me to imagine how that would feel, to be on stage every day. To be somebody completely different from yourself. I don’t know how long it will take for Natalie to win Rhapsody’s trust, assuming she ever does. How long it will take, with just a few words every morning, to steer things around to a certain type of merchandise that might find its way from the States to Toronto for the right price.
Five hundred miles away from me, it’s all coming together, day by day. Natalie is inching her way closer to the man they call Antoine Laraque.
It took about five seconds for the men to remember where they’d seen Vinnie before. That was just enough time for Jackie to grab his bat from under the bar, and for me to slide out from between Cap and his pal Brucie. Now it was two against three plus a baseball bat, on our home field.
Cap played it cool. He took another long pull off his beer, like he had never had any other intentions. Vinnie kept standing in the doorway, looking like something out of an old western. Brucie just looked at Jackie and his bat, like the sight was vaguely amusing.
“I get the impression,” Cap said finally, “that we’re not welcome here anymore.”
“Leave this bar,” Jackie said. “Leave it now.”
“How much for the beers?”
“Just. Leave.”
Cap put the bottle down. He gave his friend a little tilt of his head and then aimed for the door. When he got to Vinnie, he looked him up and down for a moment. “We have to stop meeting like this,” Cap said.
Vinnie didn’t say anything. He stepped aside slowly and let them pass. They opened the door and left the place. Through the window I could see them getting into one of those big Cadillac Escalades. It was black with silver trim.
“What did they want?” Vinnie said.
“They wanted to buy me a drink,” I said. “So Jackie gave them some of my beer.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know better?” Jackie said, putting the bat away. “You could have said something.”
“Is that all they wanted?” Vinnie said. “It looked like they were getting ready to tear this place apart.”
“After they expressed their gratitude, they sort of moved on to another topic. Apparently, there was some kind of floating box in the boat last night. They seemed to think I might know something about it.”
“Did you?”
“I honestly never saw it.”
“A floating box. What the hell could have been in there?”
“They said it was just their wallets and cash.”
“Who gets in a boat, takes out their wallet, and puts it in a box?”
“Yeah, it sounded a little fishy to me, too.”
Vinnie thought about it for a while. “I’m gonna head out,” he said. “We can get back to work tomorrow, eh?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I just want to check on something.”
“On what? Vinnie, for God’s sake, you’re not gonna do something stupid, are you?”
“No, I just want to go see somebody, make sure she’s all right. A woman who was working at the casino last night.”
“You want me to come with you?”
“No, she might not talk to me if you’re there.”
“Vinnie, you’re not going after them now, are you? Am I gonna have to bail you out of jail again?”
“One time, Alex. One time in my whole life. You make it sound like I get put in jail every week.”
“I’m just saying. If you’re gonna go do something stupid, let me know first. So we can do it together.”
“Okay, I promise. I’ll see you later.”
And then he was gone, too. I finished my beer and watched Jackie trying to calm himself down.
“I would have hit the big guy,” he said. “I swear to God. If he had laid a hand on you, I would have broken that bat right over his head.”
“Nothing like a wood bat,” I said. “Don’t you hate the sound those aluminum bats make?”
“What?”
“When you hit him, it would have been ‘clang!’ I hate that sound.”
“You’re worse than Vinnie.”
“No, I think it’s a tie.” I got up, went back to the chair by the fire, and grabbed my coat.
“Where are you going?”
“Same deal,” I said. “I’ve gotta go check on somebody, too.”
I thought about what the man had said as I drove. He needs to understand, Brucie. The man needs some enlightenment. Unless it was the most useless bluff in the history of bluffing, this man named Cap knew something important. Maybe he was important himself. Although, hell, I didn’t even know his last name. I had no idea who the hell this man was.
The rain started. I took Lakeshore Drive, my favorite lonely road in the world, but today the view was nothing but a study in gray. Water. Sky. The whole mood of the day.
I took the road all the way down to Brimley. I could have stopped at the reservation, tried to find Vinnie, but I let him be. Instead I went to Tyler’s house. I parked in front, happy not to see the black Escalade there. Although from what they had said, it sounded like they had already paid a visit here. I knocked on the front door.
A woman answered. She was about five foot nothing, and she looked like she came from the same hippie culture as Tyler. She had a wonderful smile, though. The kind of smile that makes you feel welcome. On a day like this, it was exactly what I needed.
“Is Tyler here?” I said.
“He’s in the studio. Come on around.”
She opened the door farther, and together we walked around the house to the back, where the big garage was. “How do you like this weather?”
“I think we should all get our money back.”
“It’ll warm up soon. It always does.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. I was thinking maybe I should hang around this woman for the rest of the day. Maybe some of her optimism would rub off.
Tyler was in the studio, earphones on his head and a cigarette in his mouth. In the daylight I could see out the big picture window. There in the cold water were the two rows of dark wood
en pilings leading out toward the point. I couldn’t see the boat, at least not in the water. But there was something on the shore, covered by a large blue tarpaulin.
“Alex!” he said when he saw me. He took the earphones off. “Did those jackasses pay you a visit, too?”
“I’m afraid so. It sounds like they were here earlier.”
“I’m sorry about that, man. I would have called you if I had your number. I don’t think I ever got your last name.”
“It’s McKnight.”
“This is Liz,” he said. “The old lady.”
“The next time he calls me ‘the old lady’,” she said as she shook my hand, “I’m going to throw him in the lake.”
“Come on outside,” Tyler said. “You gotta see this.”
We went out to the backyard, to the same spot we had been standing when it all happened the night before.
“The Coast Guard finally came around midnight,” he said. He started moving the rocks that were holding the tarpaulin in place. “After everyone else had already left. They were gonna put out lighted warning buoys.”
“Not that anyone else would be stupid enough to go out there,” Liz said.
“So I told them, just see if you can pull the wreck loose. I’ll tow it closer and then pull it onto the shore with my winch. It was so low in the water, I wasn’t sure they’d get it free. But eventually they did. And here it is.”
He pulled the tarpaulin off with a flourish, like he was unveiling a great piece of art. Actually, that’s exactly what this thing was—but it was a piece of art that had been rammed full speed into a wooden post. In the light of day, the damage was spectacular. The hull was opened up halfway down the centerline, the planks either broken clean through or splintered in every direction. In some places, you could see the unfinished wood, the way it must have looked decades ago, before it was varnished.
“Can you believe this?” He ran his hand across the topside, where the wood was still smooth and perfect. “All the work somebody must have put into this thing.”
“And the money,” Liz said.
“I had to cover it up last night,” he said. “It’s just obscene. It hurts me to look at it.”
“Can you imagine how hard they must have hit that thing? I can’t believe those guys lived through it.”
“I wonder how the driver is. They said he was in the hospital, but they didn’t even know how he was doing today.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t be real happy with those guys,” I said, “if they were my friends.”
“I’m not too happy with them myself. They showed up here this morning and wanted to see the boat. I was thinking they might want to salvage the motor or something, but no, they just started looking inside the thing. Then they started looking on the shoreline. Eventually, God, they must have gone down a half mile in each direction, looking in the water. Going through everybody’s backyards and out on the docks. They even wanted me to get Phil’s boat and take them out to where the wreck happened. I told them there was nothing to see out there. That’s when they started to get weird on us. You know, like when they first got here, they were telling us how grateful they were for the help last night. But then they started talking about some box they were looking for.”
“A floating lockbox,” Liz said.
“Whatever the hell that is. They didn’t seem to believe we didn’t know anything about it.”
“That sounds familiar,” I said.
“We told them there was nothing else we could do. But they didn’t seem to like that. Eventually, we had to persuade them to leave the property.”
“Okay, and how did you do that?” I was having a hard time picturing how these two could be so persuasive. Unless…
“I brought out one of our shotguns,” Liz said. “I believe it was the Remington.”
“Yeah, the over-and-under,” Tyler said. “You should have seen the look on their faces when she racked that thing. They changed their tune pretty fast.”
They were both smiling at the memory now. God love them, I thought. Only in Michigan.
“Well, I hope you guys are going to be careful,” I said. “They could come back.”
“Let them come,” Liz said. “I’m a good shot.”
I took out one of the cards Leon had made for us and gave it to them. I told them to call me if they ever saw the men again.
“What’s this?” Tyler said. “You and Leon are private investigators?”
“We were,” I said. “For about five minutes. Which reminds me…Oh no…”
“What is it?”
“If they came to see you, and they came to see me…”
“You’re right, they probably stopped by Leon’s place,” Tyler said. “Is that a problem?”
“That all depends,” I said, “on who was home.”
From Brimley I kept heading east on Six Mile Road, past the old abandoned railroad car, through the last of the Hiawatha National Forest, and then out into the open hay fields. I didn’t know how this weather would affect the crop this year, but I didn’t imagine it would help any.
I crossed the highway and drove through Sault Ste. Marie—“the Soo,” as the locals call it. Up to Three Mile Road, and into the parking lot for the Custom Motor Shop. That’s where Leon worked these days. It was a far cry from his dream job, but the man had a family to feed. The place looked pretty quiet today. No surprise given the miserable weather. When I went in, they told me that Leon had left early. In fact, he had received a phone call, and had left in a hurry without saying a word.
Exactly what I was afraid of. I got back in the truck and headed south. The first small town down the road was Rosedale. That’s where Leon lived, in a little house on a dead-end road, with a tire swing hanging from the big oak tree in the front yard.
I parked the car in the driveway, right behind Leon’s little crappy red Chevy Nova. I rang the front bell. Leon’s wife Eleanor opened the door, and her face told me everything I needed to know.
“Before you say a word—,” I said.
“Hello, Alex.” Eleanor Prudell was a large woman, to put it mildly. She was also probably the strongest woman I had ever met. I had seen her lift Leon right off the bed once, back when he had two broken ankles. And Leon had to go at least 240.
Eleanor loved me. I knew that. She would have done anything in the world for me. But at the same time, she couldn’t help associating me with some very bad moments in her life. She knew all about Leon’s desire to be a private investigator. She tried to understand when he opened up that office in the Soo, even though she knew the business would almost certainly fail. She could have lived with all of that, but the real problems began whenever I was involved. Even though it was Leon’s idea that we be partners, even though I never bought into the private investigator thing to begin with, it was always me who somehow managed to find trouble. It was always me who came asking Leon for help. Which usually meant something dangerous. The time we got shot at out on the lake, that was probably the worst of it. Of course, Leon didn’t absolutely have to tell her everything. But he did.
“I take it you got a visit today,” I said.
“There were two of them,” she said. “I was here alone.”
“What did they say?”
“Our kids could have been here. Thank God they’re at camp today.”
“Ellie, what did they say?”
“They wanted to know where Leon was. They said they had to ask him some questions.”
“Well, on the plus side, you probably could have taken both of them at once.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I know. Look…”
That’s when Leon appeared behind her. “Alex,” he said. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“I was checking to see if you’re all right,” I said. “Did you tell Ellie what happened last night?”
“Yes.”
“Especially the part about you inviting me out to Tyler’s studio, and then how the boat crashed and we saved
those guys?”
“Right, and how none of this was your fault, for once.”
“Yeah, that’s great. Thank you.”
Eleanor came out the door and hugged me. The trick is to inhale quickly so you don’t end up with any broken ribs.
“Damn you, Alex. I just…”
She looked away from me. She was genuinely scared to death by all this, and I guess I couldn’t blame her.
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll make sure they don’t come back here. I promise you.”
She nodded her head. She put her hand on my arm, then she turned and went back inside the house. That left me and Leon standing there on the porch.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Don’t worry about it. Really. She’ll be fine.”
“Leon, what did we get ourselves into here, anyway? I thought we were just helping those guys out. It’s not like we could have left them out there.”
“I guess we should have, eh? We should have let them drown.”
“As it turns out, Vinnie already has a little history with these guys.” I gave him the rundown, with Vinnie throwing them out of the casino last night. And then walking in on them today, at the Glasgow.
“Do you think he’ll go after them now?”
“I’d put money on it.”
“You need to borrow a gun again?”
“No, Leon. Come on.”
“I’m serious. You might need it. You have no idea who these guys really are, or what they’re capable of doing.”
“Hold on to it. If I need it, I’ll call you.”
“If you need it, you won’t have time to call me.” A classic Leon line if there ever was one.
“Thank you. But no, I don’t need a gun. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. “But don’t blame me if you end up dead.”
As I started to drive home, I couldn’t help wondering if Leon was right. Like he said, we had no idea who these guys really were. Or what they would do.
I moved from that to wondering how Natalie was doing. What she was doing at that very moment. And if she was safe.
Natalie.
A Stolen Season: An Alex McKnight Novel (An Alex Mcknight Novel Series) Page 6