Car door slamming below. Cal returning, hours late, with the water and extension cords.
Maggie hesitated only briefly before she shoved the diary back behind the drawer where she’d found it.
“You’re limping, Professor. What’s the story this time?”
“Bruised foot. I was bringing in some firewood and the pile collapsed on me.”
“You been to the hospital?”
“For a bruised foot?”
“Well, I was thinking you ought to be documenting these things that’re happening to you. If Maggie is responsible…”
“Look, Abel, forget what I told you.”
“Thought you wanted me to remember, in case…”
“I shouldn’t’ve said the things I did. Nothing’s going on out at the lake, except that I’m clumsy. I was in a bad mood and I’d had a few Leinies before I came in here. I talked out of turn.”
“But…”
“Speaking of Leinies, can I get one, please? And then we’ll talk about more pleasant stuff, like the streak the Twins’re on.”
“Maggie, I think there’s something you ought to know.”
“Sig! I thought I heard your boat. Help me with this armchair, will you? The guy’s coming to haul the junk away tomorrow.”
“It can wait a minute. We have to talk.”
“What’s wrong? Cal…he’s not…?”
“So far as I know Cal’s fine…physically. But mentally…I was talking with Abel Arneson at the Walleye Tavern last night. Cal’s been spending a lot of time in there on his runs to town.”
“I suspected as much. But a few beers, so what?”
“Drinking beer isn’t all he’s been doing. He’s been saying some nasty things to Abel. About you.”
“What about me?”
“Cal told Abel…he told him you’re trying to kill him.”
“What?”
“He only talked about it once, over a week ago. Said all these injuries he’s sustained lately were your doing. The next time he was in, he claimed he’d had too much to drink and talked out of turn. But Abel doesn’t believe him.”
“My God! Cal’s injured himself a lot, yes, but that’s because he’s clumsy. He’s always been clumsy. Does Abel really believe what he said?”
“He doesn’t know what to think.”
“Do you believe it?”
“I believe I may have been wrong before. You should watch your back, Mags. You just may be living with a crazy man.”
“I took your advice and went to the hospital this time, Abel. The cut required stitches, and now there’s something on record.”
“So you’ve changed your mind about talking.”
“Yes…Last time I was in, I was feeling a misguided loyalty to Maggie. All those years, our two boys, et cetera. But this last accident…that tore it.”
“You’ve got to look out for yourself.”
“From now on, I will.”
Maggie took to watching Cal, covertly, through lowered lashes as they worked side by side or sat on the porch in the evenings in the light from the mosquito-repellent candles. His gaze was remote, his expression unreadable. But every now and then she’d catch him watching her with the same guarded look she employed.
After a few days, he began working alone on tearing down one of the uninhabitable cabins, encouraging her to complete her renovations of the owners’ suite. Grateful for the respite from his oppressive presence, she replaced floorboards and primed walls and refinished the heavy old furnishings. Occasionally she thought of the diary she’d put back where she’d found it behind the second drawer of the bureau. She intended to read more of it, but the work was grueling and made the time go quickly. She told herself she’d save it for the winter months ahead.
Right before the Labor Day weekend, Sigrid reported that she’d seen Cal and Abel Arneson in intense conversation in the Walleye, and that Abel had later refused to tell her what they’d been discussing.
After that, when Cal went out to work alone on the cabins, Maggie covertly followed him. And just as covertly documented his activities.
The roof beam was thick, and, even though the wood was brittle, it was taking Cal a long time to saw through it. He couldn’t risk using power tools, though. Maggie wasn’t to know about this particular project.
The wind blew off the lake and rustled the branches of the nearby pines. He heard the whine of an outboard motor and Howie’s excited barking-probably at the flock of mallards that frequented the water off their dock. The dog had followed him down here to this cabin by what Cal had privately christened Poison Ivy Beach, then wandered off. The mallards were in no jeopardy, though. The damned dog-Maggie’s choice, not his-was a lousy swimmer.
Cal hummed tunelessly as he worked. Tomorrow the cabin would be ready.
Maggie crouched behind a thicket of wild raspberries watching as Cal sawed at the beam of the ramshackle cabin. Its front wall had fallen in, so she had a clear view of him. After a moment she activated the zoom lens of her digital camera and took a picture. Last week she’d photographed him deliberately inflicting an axe wound on his arm that had sent him to the emergency room for five stitches. Now it appeared he intended to fake another accident- that of a major support beam dropping on him.
Just before he’d sawed through the entire beam, Cal used a pair of long metal wedges to brace the beam in place. Each piece had a thin piece of rope tied to it. Then he climbed down the ladder, moved it to its opposite end, climbed back up, and began sawing again.
Maggie documented the activity.
“You look kind of ragged around the edges, Professor.”
“I’m not feeling too well tonight. For days, actually.”
“How so?”
“Just tired. Haven’t been doing too much work out at the property. To tell you the truth, it just doesn’t seem to matter anymore.”
“Thinking of throwing in the towel?”
“…Yes, I am. The Twin Cities are looking pretty good to me right now. I’ve just about decided to confront Maggie about what she’s been doing, move back, and divorce her.”
“But you haven’t said anything to her yet?”
“No. God knows what she might do if I did. She’ll find out from my lawyer. Besides, she’s hardly ever around.”
“Oh?”
“Every day she disappears into the woods, down by the beach, where the last few cabins are. Says she needs her space. Damned if I know what she’s up to.”
“If I were you, Professor, I’d follow her the next time. And do it quietly.”
Maggie studied the images on the digital camera’s screen, one after the other. Cal sawing one end of the fallen-in cabin’s beam; Cal sawing the other; Cal constructing his elaborate system of braces and ropes like trip wires. The braces and ropes themselves, in close-up.
