A couple of minutes later, Dina transferred the eggs to a plate. She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined Cork at the table. She’d just seated herself when Ren stepped from his bedroom.
“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed. “Your kolache and latte. They’re still out in the ATV. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it. I’m fine.” She gave him a bright smile.
“Thanks,” Ren said.
“For what?”
“Being there with me. You know. At Charlie’s. With the police and all.”
“Glad I could help.”
Cork said, “Ren, your cougar’s back.”
The boy’s eyes grew big, like dark mushroom buttons. “You saw it?”
“No, I heard it. I had a sense it was circling the resort.”
Dina looked up from the forkful of eggs about to disappear into her mouth. “Circling? As in stalking?”
“I don’t know cougars,” Cork replied. “What I know about most wild creatures, really wild, who’ve had any exposure to humans is that they’ll do their best to stay clear of us.”
“Why wouldn’t the cougar?” Dina asked.
“Hunger would be my first guess.”
Ren shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would have any trouble finding food in the Hurons.”
Cork shrugged. “Then maybe its environment’s been invaded or threatened.”
Dina sipped her coffee. “What animal would threaten a cougar?”
“Us. Humans,” Ren said. “Boy, a cougar. That would be something to see.”
“Unless it was coming at your throat,” Dina pointed out.
“I don’t think anyone should wander far from the cabins,” Cork said.
Ren nodded vaguely, but Cork saw the boy’s eyes stray to the window and wistfully study the distant wooded hills.
The rattle of suspension came from the resort road, and a minute later Jewell pulled her Blazer to a stop behind Dina’s Pathfinder. Through the screen door, Cork watched her leap out and bound up the steps to the cabin. She came in, went straight to Ren, took his head in her hands and looked deeply into his face.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah.”
She hugged him and kissed the top of his head. Ren glanced at Cork, then Dina. His face flushed from embarrassment at his mother’s display of concern.
“Where’s Charlie?” Jewell asked. She released him from her embrace and held him at arm’s length.
“I don’t know. She wasn’t there.”
“Providence House, you think?”
“Maybe.”
“Providence House?” Dina said.
Jewell seemed to notice her for the first time, and not with pleasure. “You’re Cork’s friend.”
“Dina Willner.”
“Mom,” Ren said as he edged between Jewell and Dina, “she, like, went with me and talked to the police and all. She was great.”
Jewell’s dark Ojibwe eyes held for an icy moment on the other woman. “Thank you.”
“This Providence House. What is it?” Dina asked.
Ren leaped in. “A place where Charlie sometimes stays. It’s in Marquette.”
Dina sipped her coffee. “You neglected to mention that to the police, Ren.”
“If Charlie’s there, I didn’t want them finding her. I mean, Jesus, they think she killed her dad.” Ren looked up at his mother. “Could we see if she’s there? You know, call or something?”
Jewell put a light, protective hand on her son’s shoulder. “I’m sure they won’t give out information over the phone, Ren. But maybe if we went in person.”
“Could we?”
Jewell glanced at Cork, and he realized that she was seeking his advice.
“If she’s there, she’s safe,” Cork offered. “Once you know that, you can decide the best course of action. And maybe help her decide, too. I’d recommend she talk to the sheriff’s people, but that’s up to her.”
Ren seemed momentarily troubled. “But if she doesn’t want to talk to them, that’s okay, right?”
“She could be what’s called a material witness,” Cork told him. “That makes it tough. If you know where she is and you don’t tell the police, they could charge you with a crime. Me, I’d find out if she’s there. Wouldn’t you like to know she’s safe? Then you can decide what to do.”
“Mom,” Ren said. “We’ve got to go.”
“All right. Wait for me in the Blazer.”
Ren darted out without saying good-bye. Jewell delayed her own departure.
“You’ve been walking on that leg?”
“Yeah. Too much probably.”
“If you want a cane, I’ll get you one.”
“Thanks.”
She went to the guest room and came back with a wooden cane, the handle carved in the shape of a wolf’s head. “Daniel made this.”
Cork gratefully took the cane. “I know I promised I’d be gone. We’ll leave soon.”
Jewell studied him, then spent a moment looking Dina over. A smell came off his cousin that Cork suddenly realized was the strong clean scent of Phisohex, the soap she probably used to clean herself after she’d spent time with an animal. The knees of her jeans carried soiled ovals where she’d knelt in the dirt, doing her work. She gave her head a single faint shake.
“I’d rather you stayed.” On a softer note she added, “If you’re willing.”
15
Ren sat on the far side of the Blazer’s front seat, staring straight ahead. Jewell drove for a while in silence, not sure what to say to him, wondering, a little desperately and sadly, if she really knew her son.
He’d always been quiet. Like his father. Daniel was a contemplative man. When he talked with Jewell, it was usually about common things-what needed fixing around the resort, the weather, Ren. When he spoke out in public, which was seldom, his words were chosen carefully and his views well considered. Until he became identified as a troublemaker, an Indian troublemaker, he’d been respected in Bodine.
That they were Ojibwe, the only Indians in the town, had never been an issue. Jewell’s family had never acted Indian, and those residents of Bodine who knew of their mixed heritage didn’t seem to care. Daniel’s involvement with the Indian causes, and especially his brutal death, had changed that, branded the DuBois in an unhappy way. Being Ojibwe hadn’t always been a burden for Ren, but it seemed so now. Occasionally, when she was particularly concerned, Jewell considered moving closer to the reservation near L’Anse, where many of Daniel’s relatives lived. If they were going to be thought of as Indian, they might was well be among those who’d understand. She’d said nothing about this to Ren, and she realized now that there was much in her own mind she hadn’t said to her son. She’d thought the silence that sometimes came between them was Ren’s choice, a sinking into himself as he dealt with his father’s death. But she considered now that perhaps the silence was really her choice.
“You okay?” she asked.
His head jerked toward her, as if her speaking surprised him. “Yeah. I guess. I’m, like, scared for Charlie. You know?”
“I understand. But I can’t think of anyone who can take care of herself as well as Charlie. Except maybe you.”
He nodded, twice, seriously.
“Mom, he was…” His voice stretched out as he sought the words to finish his thought. Apparently he didn’t
