“Ethan’s puking!” he said with delirious excitement.
“He ate enough pizza. Is he getting it into the toilet at least?”
“The bathtub!”
“Darn it!” The mother of five sprang into action, no doubt for the hundredth time that day. “Gimme a couple of minutes, Mike. You can change the channel on the TV if you don’t like these historical shows.”
I sat watching the beads of condensation slide down the Mountain Dew can. I’d spent hours trying to solve the puzzle of who had shot Shadow and what had become of his mate. Evaluating the merits of Aimee’s suspicions concerning Dawn Richie was beyond the power of my sputtering neurons.
When Aimee returned, I was standing by the door with my coat buttoned.
“You leaving so soon? This is the time of night when things get all wild and interesting in the Cronk household.”
“You don’t need to tell me. I’ve babysat for you. I need to get home before I pass out behind the wheel from lack of sleep.”
“At least your house ain’t too far. You need to have us over for a combination housewarming, welcome-home-from-jail party. I’ll bring the yellow ribbons.”
“It’s a promise.”
As I stepped out into the night, she called to me in a softer, more vulnerable voice than the one she’d been using. “Mike? There’s something wrong with that Richie woman. Not just wrong but bad. I got a sour feeling this ain’t over for Billy—not as long as he’s still locked up and at the mercy of those punishers.”
“I’ve learned to trust your intuition, Aimee.”
She thought about my response for a moment, then cracked a smile. “Aw, hell. It’s probably just gas pains from that shitty pizza. Poor Ethan got his brain from his dad. But he got his sensitive stomach from me.”
26
The first thing I noticed when I arrived home was that someone had driven down the long driveway to my house. The mud had thawed in the sun and then hardened again after dark, and the narrow treads showed clearly in my headlights. The marks had been left by small tires, not far from bald. The car had been a front-wheel-drive model. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew who drove a vehicle that fit the description, but it could have been a census taker, a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses, or some lost person. Since the little car had turned around and headed out again without stopping, I felt no sense of alarm.
On my way inside, I gathered an armload of firewood from the two cords I’d had delivered to see me through the spring. My woodpile didn’t have the benefit of a roof to shelter it from the rain and snow, so I’d been forced to cover it with a series of blue tarps and ropes that tended to come loose no matter how well I’d tied them down. I’d come to believe that nimble-fingered gremlins must live among the logs.
After I’d started a fire, I sat down at the kitchen table and thought about Aimee’s experience at the motel. There was simply no way she and her family could continue staying there after what had happened. I didn’t care if she was used to shoddy treatment.
I checked my phone for messages and found a single text from Dani:
It hurt my feelings to learn about Shadow from Ronette Landry. But I guess if you were reluctant to reach out to me, then I have my answer. You don’t need to respond to this. I’m on patrol.
Reading those words took me back to my first months as a game warden, when, in my intense focus on my work, I’d failed to respond to the many messages left by my live-in girlfriend. Here I was repeating a pattern I thought I had put behind me years earlier.
How could it be possible that I was both a quick study and a slow learner?
At least I knew better than to obey her injunction.
You’re right to be upset, Dani. I will call you tomorrow and fill you in on everything that’s been happening. Xoxo Mike
It was the first time I’d used the shorthand for hugs and kisses. At least guilt hadn’t suckered me into signing the text with love.
In my mailbox I also found an email from Angelo Donato, of all people. I hadn’t anticipated the deputy warden of the Maine State Prison joining my list of pen pals, especially after our battle royal at the hospital. I skimmed down to the relevant section:
I tried to reach you by phone earlier but the call kept dropping. I wanted to apologize for the tone I used with you yesterday. I was upset about what had happened to my officers and frustrated that our security protocols had failed so spectacularly. There will be a reckoning here in the coming weeks. I might even be among the casualties. You have no reason to help me but I believe you might have information you don’t realize is important that might help save my job. I would appreciate a call back at your earliest convenience.
Aside from the bizarre politeness of the letter, what kind of important information did Donato believe I possessed? My exhausted brain couldn’t conjure an answer to the question.
I trudged up the stairs to the bedroom. Somehow I managed to brush my teeth and strip off my muddy clothes before falling headlong into a sleep so bottomless it came close to being a coma.
I hadn’t gotten around to hanging curtains in my bedroom’s east-facing window. As a result, I always awakened as soon as the sun poked above the treetops. Even as a teenager, I had preferred rising at first light.
For that reason, I was stunned to open my eyes and see the room filled with sunlight. It was nearly nine o’clock.
I took a quick shower, shaved, and ate a banana for
