good.
So what to do about it? Maybe nothing. Maybe it would be best to just wait it out, take his fishing parties after walleye and muskie and come home and smoke a pipe and read a book, and eventually the man and the woman would go away and things would be back to normal.
That was one option. An option he favored until the headlights of a truck washed over his driveway and Frank Temple III arrived, not alone, but with young Nora from the body shop, and right then, even before they got out of the truck, Ezra understood that this thing was not going to be one he could wait out.
They came onto the porch and sat with him and told him what had happened. He listened without speaking, as was his way. People commented on this often, as if it were strange behavior. Ezra didn’t understand any other way to listen. When somebody was telling you something, particularly something important, you shut up and listened and thought about what they were saying. If you were always opening your own mouth, or thinking about what you were going to say, how much did you really hear? Ezra heard it all. Heard it, and considered it.
What he heard now, this description of a man with bound hands and a cut throat, took him back to a place he’d left long ago. Not Vietnam, either, no place so far away. Detroit was across a lake, not an ocean, but to Ezra it was home to more bad memories than Vietnam. He’d seen men die in both places, but the deaths in Detroit were a different sort of killing. In thirty years in Tomahawk, he hadn’t encountered anything like them again. A throat laid open in pursuit of a dollar gained, a bullet through the eye to avenge a dollar lost, those things did not happen here.
But now they’d come to him, Temple’s son and the girl had, and they were right to do so. He could see the doubt in Nora’s eyes, could see her taking in him and his cabin and wondering what Frank was thinking, why they were on this porch instead of in a police station somewhere. Frank understood, though. He’d learned some things from his father, some things he wished not to know. In this circumstance, at least, they would help him. Ezra hoped the kid appreciated that.
“I didn’t think she should go home,” Frank concluded. “Am I wrong? Are these guys already out of town, trying to disappear?”
“No,” Ezra said. “You weren’t wrong, and they aren’t gone yet.”
He was sure of that, though he hadn’t seen the men personally, knew nothing of them. What he did know, just from Frank’s story, was that these two were professionals who’d come all the way up here to do a job. The job didn’t involve beating up Mowery or killing Jerry Dolson, and because these things were happening it was clear that the job was not done. Also clear, then, was the notion that they would not leave until it was.
The girl was tougher than he might have guessed. He could tell that in the way she stood and listened. Frightened, sure, but not panicked. Not frozen. There was a quality of disbelief to her at times, as if she hadn’t reconciled with everything that had happened yet, but that was reasonable. Expected.
“So what’s your advice?” Frank said. “Should we go back to the cops?”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to decide that until we find out exactly who the visitors are, and what they’re running from.”
“How do we do that?”
“Well,” Ezra said, “I’d imagine asking them directly would be a good start.”
Frank and Nora stood there and stared at him, no sound but the buzzing insects filling the air for a while.
“We’re going there?” Frank said. “To the island?”
“I think we should.”
“Without the police.”
“Son, you were the one telling
“I know, but . . . you’re saying we go out there now?”
Ezra shook his head. “It were up to me, I’d wait till daylight. You go out there in the middle of the night, you’re gonna provoke a different sort of reaction.”
Frank didn’t respond, and Nora Stafford looked unsettled. Ezra spread his hands and leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath him.
“Listen—you two are worried. Scared. That makes sense. And you’re trying to decide what to do that will leave you the safest. Also makes sense. But you can’t do that until you understand the situation. That gray-haired guy and that woman, they aren’t the same cut as these men that rolled into town on their heels, but they’ve got some answers. Some things we need to hear.”
Frank nodded slowly. “All right. So you and I go out there in the morning and try to get them to talk.”
“It’s my recommendation, yes.”
“No,” Nora said, and Ezra thought she was objecting to the whole idea until she said, “You’re not going to leave me sitting in some cabin while you go out there to talk to them. I won’t do it.”
Nobody answered her at first. Ezra wasn’t thrilled with the idea; Nora’s involvement had already gone too far, in his opinion.
“They came into my shop and they killed my employee, my friend, a man who’d worked for my family for years,” she said. “If anyone here deserves some answers, it’s not you guys. It’s me.”
Tough to argue with that. Ezra just said, “That’s what you want to do? Talk to them in person?”
“From what I’ve heard, it seems to be what you think is best. But if anyone goes out there, they’ll be taking me with them.”
“Fine,” Ezra said. “We’ll all go, then. First thing in the morning.”
“What if they leave?” Nora asked.
“Be tough to leave that island,” Ezra said, “without a boat.”
Frank’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going to steal it?”
“Not steal it. Might disrupt it a touch, is all.”
“What if they see you?” Nora said. “Won’t that cause problems?”
Ezra smiled at her, and Frank answered for him.
“They won’t see him, Nora.”
Her head was swiveling between them, her lips slightly parted, eyes intense, not saying a word. Frank looked to her.
“You’re in more jeopardy here than anybody. What do you think?”
“I think,” she said after a long pause, “that we should know what it’s all about. If they can tell us that, then I like Ezra’s idea.”
It was quiet for a few minutes, and then Ezra said, “You feel safe at your cabin?”
“I do,” Frank said.
Ezra nodded. “You’ll be safe there tonight.” Ezra had a boat and a rifle with a night scope. Yes, they’d be safe tonight.
“All right,” he said. “I think I ought to go address that boat on the island. You all go on back home. Rest. It’s done for the day, all right? I believe that. Any trouble does come up, I’ll be around, and I see you got your dad’s gun in case you need it.”
Frank looked down at the gun, then back at Ezra. “How the hell can you tell it’s his gun when it’s holstered and I’m standing in the dark?”
Ezra walked to his truck.
21
__________
Grady found an active cell number easily enough, but he couldn’t get through to Frank. He called five times over two hours, got nothing but an immediate voice mail, indicating the phone was turned off. He left two messages. No details, just his numbers and an urgent request to call.
What to do now? He owed Atkins information. Every hour that ticked by made him feel guiltier about that, more aware of the ramifications. If Frank was really responsible for shooting Devin Matteson, then what in the hell
