He grabbed his leather jacket and took the stairs to the ground floor. His car was parked on the street outside. He headed southeast on Highway 2, where there was no traffic to slow him down. It was Sunday; everyone was in church. As he drove, he finally thought about the one subject he kept trying to push from his mind.
Serena.
Last night he had slept alone. Actually, he had tossed and turned in the empty bed. He had thought of Serena at home in their cottage in Duluth, and the distance between them made him feel as if she were another of the pieces of his life stranded on the far side of the canyon. He could imagine her face, hear her voice, and feel the softness of her skin, and yet for all that, she had become flat. Two-dimensional. Like everything else in his world. He told himself that he was in love with her, but he didn't feel it, because he didn't feel anything.
When his phone rang, he thought it might be Serena, and he wondered what he would say to her. Instead it was Maggie.
'Hey, boss,' she said brightly. 'I miss your face.'
Stride relaxed and smiled. 'Back at you, Mags. What's going on?'
'I have a quick update on the farmlands case. I offered kinky favors to one of the techs down at BCA to bump our blood sample to the top of the list.'
'Good.'
'He's gay, by the way, so I told him you'd pay up, not me. Hope that's OK.'
'Anything for the team,' he told her.
'I thought you'd feel that way. Anyway, I got the results back, and it's bad news. No hits. He's not in the system.'
'Damn.'
'Yeah, nothing ever comes easy.'
'How's Troy Grange doing?' Stride asked. 'You saw him yesterday, right?'
'He's hurting. His oldest girl is a wreck, and he had to leave the baby with his in-laws. I told him not to give up hope, but he knows the score. Trisha's not coming back.'
'Yeah.'
'Speaking of tough guys,' Maggie said, 'how are you?'
'Me? I'm fine.' The same old lie.
'A little bird told me you weren't so good.'
Stride tensed. 'You talked to Serena?'
'Uh huh.'
'It's no big deal,' he said.
'It sounded like a big deal to me. And to her.'
'I don't really want to talk about it, Mags.' 'Yeah, well, that's just too damn bad,' she snapped. 'You think you can blow me off like that? I'm your best friend.'
'I know that, but this isn't easy for me—'
'I don't care if it's easy or hard. What the hell is going on with you?'
Stride closed his eyes and opened them again. The empty highway spilled off the edge of the horizon. 'It's not Serena. It's me. I'm struggling.'
'Give me details.'
He didn't know what to say. 'I wish I could, Mags. I may as well be dead. I don't care about anything. Not a damn thing.'
'I don't like to hear you talking like that,' she said.
'Neither do I.'
Maggie was silent. Stride slowed and turned off the highway as he reached the intersection that led toward the rural town of Sago. A cloud of dirt rose behind his tires and trailed him down the deserted road.
'When are you coming back to Duluth?' she asked.
'I've got a couple meetings at City Hall the day after tomorrow.'
'I want to see you.'
'I appreciate the thought, but there's nothing you can do. This is my problem.'
'Don't be such a hero. Get an early start. I'll make you breakfast.'
'You?' Stride asked.
'Damn right. A couple sausage McMuffins and some of that twisty cinnamon roll kind of stuff.'
Stride laughed. 'OK.'
'I'll see you Tuesday morning.' She added, 'And hey, can I tell you something?'
'Sure.'
'I'm sorry I wasn't with you.'
'What are you talking about?'
He heard her voice catch with emotion, which was unusual for Maggie. 'On the bridge. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you fell. That was the hardest thing for me, not being there when you needed me.'
'There's nothing you could have done,' Stride said.
'Maybe, but I'm still sorry.'
Stride thumped his fist on the aluminum door of Micki Vega's trailer. Curtains were drawn across the windows, but he saw her pickup truck parked in the dirt nearby, and he smelled bacon frying. When no one answered, he pounded again.
'Micki, it's Lieutenant Stride. Open up!'
He heard the rattle of a chain as Micki unlatched the door and peered out. Her dark hair was loose and frizzy. She had bloodshot eyes. She wore flannel pajama bottoms and a pink halter top. Her feet were bare.
'You woke up my mama,' she told him, her voice cross.
'You didn't answer.'
'I thought it was that damn chica from the papers. Blair Rowe. She's been hassling me all weekend. Did you tell her about me?'
'No.'
'Well, she found out anyway. I'm fucked.'
'I need to talk to you, Micki,' Stride said.
'Talk about what?'
'Callie Glenn.'
'I already told you everything I know, which ain't much. Leave me alone, OK?'
'I have more questions. Can I come inside?'
'Hell, no. I don't want you bothering my mama.'
'Then put on some clothes and come out here.'
Micki scowled. 'Whatever.'
He waited for her in the middle of the dirt road. Through the slanted trunks of the birch trees, he could see the slope of the Sago Cemetery fifty yards away. Dots of snow flurries drifted in the air and landed on his skin in cold flecks. It was a quiet morning, with almost no wind. The trees seemed to be holding their breath.
Micki joined him two minutes later. She'd shoved her feet into boots, and she wore a blue down coat. Her black hair spilled messily over the collar. She took bites from a bagel and a crispy piece of bacon.
'So what do you want?' she demanded, her mouth full.
'I know about your baby,' he said.
Micki blanched. She stopped chewing, and a few crumbs clung to the side of her mouth, which she wiped with her sleeve. Her cheeks flushed with anger. 'Fuck you. That's private.' 'Callie Glenn is missing, and now I find out that you had a baby that no one knows about. Coincidences like that make me suspicious.'
'Who told you?' Micki asked.
'It doesn’t matter.'
'Yeah, nothing matters when you're trailer trash, right? Other people get to scream about their privacy. Not me.'
'Where's your baby?' Stride asked.
