“Who’s that?” Bascombe asked.
“The sheriff of Tamarack County,” Jenny’s father answered. “And also a good friend.”
“Easier to get rid of the baby that way,” Bascombe pointed out. “Off your hands quicker, Cork.”
Her father appeared uncomfortable, as if he didn’t particularly appreciate the light in which Bascombe’s words cast him.
The comment made Jenny furious. “I’m taking him to Meloux’s.” She leveled an icy look at her father. “He’ll understand.”
“Jenny, I’m just trying to think what’s safest for us all.”
“No, it’s like Seth said. You’re just looking for the quickest way to get my baby out of your hair.”
“He’s not your baby,” Cork said.
“And he’s no one else’s either. Just look at him. Who’d take a child with a face like that?” Now she shot an accusing glare at Aaron.
Silence settled in the room, an uncomfortable waiting. For her part, Jenny felt like a cannon, primed and ready to fire. She watched her father closely.
Finally he shrugged and said, as if in defeat, “Meloux it is, for better or worse.” He scanned the room, his gaze settling one after the other on them all. “Are we agreed?”
They all said, “Yes,” except for Aaron. He sat back, darkly mum, and although Jenny could see clearly that he disapproved of the idea, he gave, at last, a reluctant nod of assent.
Kretsch offered, “If you really believe the safest place for the child is with this Meloux, you go ahead and take him there. If it causes any legal problems, I’ll take the heat.”
“How do we get the baby away without anybody seeing?” Bascombe asked. “Powassin was right. A lot of eyes are watching you folks, and we don’t know who among them might be in cahoots with Smalldog.”
“What makes you think he’s not acting alone?” Cork asked.
“He’s a smuggler, and in my experience in ATF, smugglers don’t operate alone. He’s probably got other Ojibwe helping him. And, hell, maybe even a white man or two. Around here, it’s tough to make a living, and throwing in with Smalldog could be a tempting proposition. Besides, there was someone with him when he came for the baby last night.”
“We could sneak him out tonight,” Anne suggested.
“I don’t know that night is the best time,” Bascombe replied. “The lake’s tricky enough during the day. And if Smalldog’s thinking we might do something with the baby, he’ll figure night’s the best time. It’s what I’d figure.”
“What if we all go together,” Rose said. “Just head over to the Angle and load up in Aaron’s truck and drive out. Wouldn’t there be safety in numbers?”
Bascombe’s face showed that he clearly didn’t like the idea.
Apparently, neither did Cork, who said, “I don’t know Smalldog. It might be he’s crazy enough to do something desperate, and one of us—or several of us—could get hurt.”
“The road out from the Angle cuts through a lot of empty, isolated woods,” Kretsch added. “If Smalldog knew we were running, there’d be a number of old logging roads he could take to cut us off.”
“You think he’d really do that?” Rose asked.
“A man who’d do what he did to his sister, no telling what he’s capable of,” Bascombe answered.
“So let’s take the baby out by water,” Stephen said. “Across Lake of the Woods.”
“Across the big water?” Kretsch said. “In broad daylight? We’d be sitting ducks for Smalldog and that cigarette boat of his. He’d run us down like a wolf would a rabbit.”
“Cunning,” Cork said. “That’s what Powassin suggested. Somehow we have to take the boy right out from under Smalldog’s nose without Smalldog knowing.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Kretsch asked.
Jenny saw that her father didn’t have an answer. They sat, staring at one another or out the window, and for a while the only sound came from the rush of the wind in the trees.
Finally Mal said, “Ah,” as if he’d just eaten something delicious that Rose had baked, and he grinned broadly.
“What?” Rose said to her husband.
They all fixed their eyes on him.
Mal said slyly, “Have you ever played three-card monte?”
THIRTY-FOUR
As soon as they all understood and had agreed to Mal’s plan, Bascombe left with Kretsch, Stephen, and Aaron and headed toward the Angle. The others began their preparations. Anne and Rose helped Jenny get the baby’s things ready, while Cork and Mal walked to the end of the dock with rifles in hand to stand sentry. After a long while, Jenny came out with the baby in the basket. She’d put on a red ball cap that her father had given her, and a purple Vikings jersey, and green capris. She stood out like a clown at a wedding. She walked to the bench at the end of the dock, put the basket down, and took the baby out.
Mal said to Cork, “You got this covered?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. I’m inside if you need me.”
Mal left the dock to Cork and his daughter.
Cork stood looking out at the lake. It was early afternoon, hot and windy. Gulls rose and spun and dove above the channel, as if dodging the silver bullets of sunlight that shot from the waves. Everything appeared normal. The destruction that had been visited on so much of the lake had missed the islands nearest the Angle. Although he knew it wasn’t so, Cork felt as if a great deal of time had passed between the storm and this current moment. Changes unforeseen and momentous had occurred. And, once again, he was reminded that life was no more predictable than the flight of a dragonfly.
“Do you think they’re watching?” Jenny asked.
“I hope so,” Cork said.
She was quiet. Then she turned her face up to him. “Do you think it’ll work?”
“It’ll work,” he said, although the truth was that nothing was certain. “Are you scared?”
“No. Well, yes, but not for me.”
He understood what she meant, even though he wasn’t comfortable with it. He was a father, and his fear—he could feel the worm of it in his stomach—was for Jenny, not for himself. In her own mind, Jenny was a mother, and her concern was for her child, a concern that put her in terrible danger. And placed the rest of his children in jeopardy as well, though Cork wouldn’t say that to her. Decisions had been made, and they’d all agreed, and now they needed to be together in their intent and their actions.
He went back to watching the lake, to looking at the wall of vegetation across the channel on Birch Island for any sign that someone there was keeping them under surveillance. It was probably too much to hope for the flash of sunlight off the lenses of field glasses, but if it was there, he didn’t want to miss it.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you think this is crazy.”
He glanced down at her as she cradled the baby, and he didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Children are important,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons I took you out to see the pictographs. I sensed that it was an issue between you and Aaron. I haven’t had a chance to get to know him. I imagine he’s a fine man in a lot of ways, but I get the feeling that being a father isn’t big on his agenda. I wanted to let you know that I was on your side. I want you to have children. I just didn’t figure it would be this way.” He looked at the unsettled surface of the lake and heard himself sigh. “We’ve all suffered a lot of loss. You especially. It makes a certain sense to me, how you feel about this baby. And who knows? Maybe it would be good to have a strong breath of life come back into our family.”
“He’s not really family,” she said. “I’ll have to give him up eventually.”
