very much.” I had left a message for Bill and wished the man a good night.
Then I had started to clean up as well as I could, picking out the silverware from the mess on the kitchen floor along with whatever plates weren’t broken. Everything else I had swept into one big pile. There wasn’t much I could do with the cushions that had been slashed. I had collected up all of the material and the stuffing and had put it all into trash bags. When I had done enough to feel like I had at least started to undo the violence, I tried to sleep. But I couldn’t make the mattress into something comfortable again, no matter how much I tried. So I got in my truck and came around the bend to my second cabin, the same cabin that Dorothy had stayed in.
The snow had finally stopped, but the wind was still blowing. It was a low, relentless wail that sounded like the cry of a wolf. Before I had gone to bed, I had stood in front of the sink and tried to turn the water on. Nothing. I remembered then how I had turned the water on for Dorothy that night, and had told her to keep it dripping so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. She obviously hadn’t. Too busy getting kidnapped, I guess. Now, the pipes were frozen solid. I didn’t feel like dealing with it at that moment, so I crawled into the bed. As I listened to the wind, I thought about how this was the same bed that Dorothy had slept in, assuming she got any sleep at all before her Prince Charming arrived to take her away.
Did she really open the door for him? She must have. Otherwise he would have broken it down, just like he did mine. She opened the door for him, then he grabbed her and took her away. If I ever see her again, that will be the first question I ask her. Why did you open that door?
I dragged myself out of bed. It was cold enough to see my own breath, the fire in the woodstove having gone out. I got into my boots and coat and went out into the morning, where the wind was waiting to make my face go numb. Another glorious winter day in Paradise.
I started the truck and got the heater going. I felt so stiff that I’d shatter if you dropped me.
It hadn’t snowed the previous night, but the wind had made drifts across the road. I plowed my way down to the end and back. When I passed Vinnie’s place, I saw that his car was gone. He was probably at the casino, dealing an early shift of blackjack. The wind had erased most of his hard work on the driveway. I plowed him out, just to piss him off.
When I was back at my own cabin and out of my truck, I noticed that my door was open again. I could hear my phone ringing inside. I took the gun out of my coat pocket and peeked around the door. It looked like the same mess I’d seen the day before. With the lock broken, I thought, the wind must have blown the door in. There was snow on the floor, halfway into the room. At this rate, I might as well let the bears have the place to sleep in for the winter.
The phone rang again. I picked it up.
“Alex, is that you?” It was Leon Prudell. “Is everything all right? I’ve been calling all morning.”
“Everything’s just wonderful,” I said.
“I found his place,” he said. “Where Lonnie Bruckman was staying. I’m over here right now, with the landlady.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “How did you find it?”
“I’ll explain when you get here,” he said. “You’ve got to see this place.” He gave me the directions to a neighborhood on the east side of Sault Ste. Marie. It wasn’t far from the ice rink and the bar where I saw Bruckman the night of the hockey game.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said.
“I’ll be waiting, partner.”
I let that one go. I figured he’d earned the partnership, at least for the day.
Before I left, I called the sheriff’s office again and asked to speak to Bill directly, but the woman on the phone told me he wasn’t in. I left my phone numbers, one for the cabin, one for the cellular in my truck, and asked that he call me as soon as possible. Then I went back out into the cold. No hot shower, no breakfast. I’ll stop at the Glasgow, I thought. Grab a coffee and something to go.
When I got there, Jackie was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together. “It’s gonna snow,” he said when he saw me.
“Your psychic powers are amazing,” I said. “Imagine, snow in the U.P. in January. Is this coffee fresh?”
“No, I mean it’s gonna snow. A lot. Yes, of course it’s fresh.”
I poured a cup. “How much is a lot? You got any rolls or anything? I’m in a hurry.” I poked around on the counter behind the bar.
“A lot means feet instead of inches,” he said. “Look in the kitchen.”
I went back into the kitchen and grabbed a couple cheese danishes. The place smelled like he had just made one of his famous omelets. It made my stomach hurt, but I couldn’t wait. I had to get out to the Soo to see that house. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but at least I’d be doing something.
“Thanks, Jackie,” I said on my way out. “I’ll be back later for an omelet.”
“No thank you, master,” he said just before I closed the door. “I live to serve you.”
On a good day I would have taken Lakeshore Drive all along the bay to Six Mile Road, but with the wind blowing all over the place, I figured I’d be better off staying on the main roads. I noticed the car behind me just as I left Paradise. When I hit M-28 and headed east, the car was still behind me. In the rearview mirror I could see that it was a midsize sedan. There were two men in the front seat.
Just for the hell of it, I stopped at a little store in Strongs and went in and got a newspaper. I didn’t see the car in the parking lot, but when I got back on the road it was behind me again.
Well, well, I thought. So maybe I wasn’t just imagining it. I really am being followed. But who could it be? Bruckman, maybe? With one of his hockey goons? Wouldn’t that be convenient? Here I am looking all over for him and he could be right in back of me.
I tried gunning it for a few miles, just to see if the car would stick with me. It did, keeping at a constant distance of about a quarter mile behind me. Then I slowed down to thirty miles per hour. If the car wasn’t tailing me, it would have gotten closer. It didn’t. It stayed back there, just close enough so that they could react to anything I did, but far enough away that I wouldn’t notice it in my rearview mirror. Or so they apparently thought.
I stopped again in Raco, went into another little store and then peeked out the side window. The car had pulled off the road. I stood there watching it, wondering what to do.
“Can I help you find something?” the man behind the counter asked. He was an older gentleman with a kind face.
“No, thank you, sir,” I said. “I’m just waiting for some friends to show up.”
“They say it’s gonna snow today,” the man said.
“So I hear,” I said, as I opened the door and went out. I’m sure the man was shaking his head as I left.
Okay, boys, I said to myself as I got back in the truck. Let’s try something different.
When I got back onto M-28, the car was behind me again. I started looking for the right kind of road to turn onto, something with a little bit of cover so I could open up some distance on them without being obvious about it. We were about to leave the Hiawatha National Forest and I knew everything would be wide open soon, so I’d need to find something within the next couple miles.
A side road came up on my left, leading north through the pine trees toward Brimley. This could work, I thought. I took the turn and punched it, spinning my wheels in the snow for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the truck found some purchase and I was moving again. I went as fast I could safely go, looking for some kind of turnoff. Somewhere that I could hide the truck and then wait for them.
I saw a couple driveways, but they were long and open. I went around a curve and almost missed another driveway. A good one. I pumped the brakes, trying to stay on the road. I squeezed the steering wheel, trying to will the truck to stop. When it finally did, I slammed it in reverse and backed up. Perfect, I thought, if I can just back into this driveway before they catch up to me. Hurry up, goddamn it. Careful, careful…
I stopped the truck. I was about twenty feet from the road, behind a stand of pine trees that were all but smothered by a thick cloak of snow. I had just enough of a sight line to see them coming, and just enough distance to get my truck back onto the road to stop them. Whoever was in that car, I’d be getting a good, close look at them in just a few seconds.
I took a long breath. I patted the gun in my coat pocket. You never know, I thought. If Bruckman’s in that car, it might come down to this.
My heart was beating fast. Relax, Alex. Slow down. Breathe. Make yourself breathe.
