62
I waited at the front door for her, like the times she'd waited for me, and walked out to meet her when Gary pulled up to drop her off. He didn't get out, just waved to me, no doubt realizing that this was a situation where three would be a crowd.
My anticipation was cut by concern when I first glimpsed Renee's face. Her expression was one I'd seen before, suggesting that something had gone wrong. It changed to a welcoming smile as she stepped into my arms, but her embrace seemed like less than it could have been.
We walked on into the house. I'd gotten a good blaze going in the fireplace and turned on a cheerful array of lights. A pair of filet mignons and trimmings were in the refrigerator, and the aroma of baking potatoes was starting to fill the air. I had a dozen roses sitting on the table, flanked by bottles of chilled sauvignon blanc and Powers whiskey.
Her pleased surprise was obvious and she hugged me again. But I could still feel that undercurrent of trouble.
'Look, I got a notion,' I said-speaking hastily, trying to push past it. 'I could get this place in decent shape in a few months. So, you know, a couple of people would be comfortable living here again. It's the kind of job Madbird and I love. Wouldn't break the bank, just the cost of materials and his wages.'
'Oh, Hugh, what a lovely thought,' she murmured. She stepped back, holding both my hands and raising her gaze to mine.
'I feel like I owe you a debt I can never pay back,' she said. 'It's almost like one of those old myths-you saved me from the monster that was haunting my life.'
'The only debt any of us owe is to our lucky stars, especially me. They lined up when I needed them.'
'But I just coasted on through and never really got touched. You had to do the hard part, and you'll have to live with that forever. Are you okay with it? It must be such an enormous thing, I can't even imagine.'
'It'll be there in my head,' I said. 'But I'm more than okay with it. Is that what's bothering you? Feeling like you've got to be nice to me because you're obligated? Lose that. You don't.'
She lowered her gaze. 'No. Look, I need a few minutes to get settled. Then can we talk about the house?'
'Sure,' I said, relieved. 'Whenever you feel like it. Take your time.'
Then she started crying, breaking away from me and covering her face.
'I think Daddy knew,' she got out. 'That it was Lon who did it. He had to-had to at least suspect.'
I stood there poleaxed, in a stillness underscored by the sounds of her weeping and the merrily crackling fire. Then I stepped to the table, opened the bottles, and poured us drinks, mostly for something to do. I took one of her hands and pressed the glass of wine into it. She sipped and gave me a tremulous smile of thanks, but it faded fast.
'That night I heard Daddy and Astrid arguing?' Renee said. 'There was another part I'd blocked out. When she was mocking Daddy that he never did anything but talk-he snapped back at her, something like, 'I'm the one who shot that man, not you. And for what? Just to prove to you I could.''
'You heard your father say he shot a man?'
'I should have told you about it, I know. I didn't want to admit it, and it didn't seem to be part of this. But then when we found out about Lon, it made sense. I think he was talking about Lon taking Astrid to raid that illegal logging camp in Colorado. Daddy must have gone with them. Maybe Lon even maneuvered him into it-made him feel like an old man, competing for her.' Renee shook her head, looking both wounded and angry. 'That's how stupid I am. All along, I thought they were friends, but really Lon had that terrible hold on Daddy.'
And Professor Callister had never summoned the courage to break it, because if he'd voiced his suspicions about Lon Jessup, Lon would have turned him in for the Colorado shooting, an unprovoked assault that would have carried a long prison sentence.
Talk about a devil's bargain.
So now, instead of experiencing the ecstatic relief of learning that her adored father was not a murderer, Renee was devastated by his cowardice.
'You haven't mentioned this to anybody else?' I said.
'Just you.'
'Is that how you want it?'
'For now. Maybe forever, I don't know.'
'That's how it'll stay, then,' I said.
She nodded gratefully, but her eyes were starting to tear up again. 'I'm sorry. I'm a mess, I've hardly slept.'
'My fault; I should have realized that,' I said. 'Let's take a rain check on dinner, huh?'
'If that's okay. I wouldn't be much company tonight.'
'You feel like talking?' I said. 'Maybe unload a little?'
'I think I just need to crash.'
I nodded. It was about as gentle as a dismissal could be, but it was still a dismissal.
Renee picked up the Powers bottle and pressed it into my hands. 'Here, at least take this.'
We walked together to the door. One warm, tear-salted kiss later, my whiskey and I were on our way home.
63
On a Thursday toward the end of May, with spring ripening into summer, Madbird and I finished remodeling the final cabin at the Split Rock Lodge. By the time we picked up our tools and gave the place a once-over with a Shop-Vac, it was three in the afternoon-perfect for starting a long weekend. We headed for the bar.
Pam Bryce brought us drinks on the house and set them in front of us, with her mouth turning down in a playfully sad little pout.
'I can't believe you guys aren't going to be around anymore,' she said. 'I've gotten so used to you, like…' she gestured in the air, bracelets tinkling, trying to find the right comparison.
'The junker cars?' I said. She laughed and swatted at my hand.
'Don't worry, we'll be dropping by,' Madbird said. 'We ain't that easy to get rid of.'
There were a few regulars in the barroom, including our tool thief, Artie Thewlis. He gave us a cautious wave but kept his distance. Artie had made a big step up in the world-he and Elly May had become an item, maybe bonding over the trauma we'd caused them. He'd gained weight, put new tires on his truck, and now carried himself with an enhanced sense of authority, like a country squire who had come into his inheritance. I preferred him the way he'd been before, but he still wasn't too hard to take and he'd probably end up back there, anyway.
In general, things were pretty quiet around Split Rock these days. Darcy was gone, staying with her immediate family for a while in the reservation town of Browning. Madbird figured it wouldn't be long before she was in trouble again, but with any luck, it wouldn't be life-threatening.
When the Callister story had hit the news, including Seth Fraker's affair with Darcy, the congressman's political career took a predictable nosedive. He'd resigned his legislative seat, citing as a reason-I do not lie-that he wanted to spend more time with his family.
Whether or not he was actually guilty of foul play in the drowning of the St. Martin woman would probably never be known. I'd mentioned it to Gary Varna, and he answered sourly, 'I hate like hell to say this, but it ain't my problem.' I suspected that after a couple of years, when things settled down and memories dimmed, Fraker would make a quiet return.
Things were calm around my cabin, too. The black tomcat and I settled into life as usual. The vet was right about him getting used to his missing limb; at first he lurched around like a drunk, but pretty soon he was climbing trees and running fence rails, maybe just to prove he could.
And I finally had a name for him-Stumpleg, just like the gulch.
