“I will. I appreciate it.”
She said good night to me. If I had wanted to, I could have read some things into her phone call. Or into the sound of her voice even. On this night, I didn’t even want to try. Instead I tried to sleep again, lying there looking up at the ceiling. You live in your head too much, Jackie said. He was right.
When I finally did sleep, it came on hard and didn’t let go of me until late the next morning. The sound of the wind woke me up. Through the window I could see a sky the color of slate, and the pine trees bending and returning and then bending some more. It wasn’t raining yet, but when it came it would be like something out of the Bible. God help anyone who was out on the lake.
I got up and stood in front of the mirror. My face was as ugly as the weather, with bruises all along the left side of my jaw and around both eyes. Any color of the rainbow-you name it, I was wearing it.
I stood under a hot shower for a good thirty minutes, waiting for my neck and my shoulders to loosen up. I had some coffee and some breakfast, and then spent the rest of the day doing nothing. I carried an ice bag around with me, holding it against whatever part of my head or body happened to be hurting.
I had lunch by myself. I read a little bit. I had a beer. I got more ice out of the freezer. Outside the storm passed without raining a drop. Just like that, it was gone. The sun came out. All of a sudden it was a beautiful day. I had no desire to go out and see it.
I read some more. I had dinner by myself, a cheap frozen dinner warmed up in the microwave. I had another beer. The sun went down.
Nobody bothered me. I didn’t have to deal with Bennett O’Dell and the crazy mess he had brought upon himself. I didn’t have to deal with Winston Vargas and his yapping little dog. Or some mobbed-up Canadian thug who actually went around letting people call him Blondie.
Or Jackie. I didn’t have to deal with Jackie telling me to stay out of his business.
I looked at my face in the mirror again. It wasn’t looking any better. “You’re a real sight,” I said. “It’s a good thing you stayed inside all day.”
Then it hit me. This is what Jackie saw last night, when he looked at me. He saw this face. He wanted me to stay out of it. From the beginning, he was pushing me away. Last night, that was him giving me both barrels, just to make sure.
Maybe there was a good reason. Look at me. He was trying to protect me, to keep me out of this because he knew I’d find some way to get my ass kicked. As usual. I didn’t see it, because I was too busy feeling mad about it.
I stepped outside just in time to see a couple of minivans rolling by. It was the men from the last cabin, all dentists and orthodontists from downstate. When the lead driver saw me, he stopped and rolled down his window. “What happened to you?” he said.
“A little misunderstanding,” I said.
“Sorry we’re leaving so late,” he said. “It was such a nice day, we figured we’d stay up here, then drive down overnight. Your helper said it was okay.”
“My helper?”
“Yeah, we left the money with him. I hope that was okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Who are you talking about?”
“The big blond guy. He said he worked for you.”
“When was this?”
“About two hours ago. Did we mess up here, Alex? He seemed legit.”
“No, no, you’re okay,” I said. “You guys go ahead. I’m gonna go check on my helper.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but the minivans took off anyway. I went back into my cabin, rummaged through the bottom of my closet until I found the shoe box. I took the service revolver out and put bullets in it. Then I went back out and walked down the road, as quietly as I could. There was just enough light left to see where I was going.
The last cabin was a half mile down. As I got closer, I kept to the side of the road, the pine trees brushing against me. When I turned the last corner, I stood there for a moment and watched the cabin. Everything was quiet. The last light of the day was all but gone.
You’re a fool, I told myself. Thinking that you could stay inside all day, all by yourself, that it would all go away. It was right here, right inside this cabin.
I crept up to the door, step by step on a soft carpet of pine needles. The door was ajar. I pushed it open, ready to shoot anything that moved.
One small lamp was lit, on the big table in the center of the room. I flipped on the other lights as I moved through the cabin. It was empty, but I could smell the smoke from his cigar.
There on the center table, in the ashtray, a cigar butt. It was still warm to the touch. Underneath it were some pieces of torn paper. I picked up one piece, saw the “100.” They were hundred dollar bills, maybe five or six of them. The men must have paid him in cash. This is what he did to the money.
The rest of the place looked untouched, but this alone was enough to get my blood boiling, just the fact that he was here. This was the last cabin my father had built before he died. These wooden beams he cut, these stones he put together with his bare hands to make this fireplace. This was his masterpiece. More than anything else in the world, this cabin was what I had to remember my father.
Like that pewter mug? What did Jackie have to remember his father? The lake itself, and what else? Hell, I didn’t know what to think anymore.
I threw the cigar out, left the torn money sitting there in the ashtray, locked the place up tight and went back to my cabin. It was dark by the time I got there. The stars were out. I fired up the truck and drove down to the Glasgow. When I walked in, I thought I could smell the cigar smoke again. Maybe I was imagining it.
Or maybe not.
“Jonathan,” I said, “was somebody smoking one of those little cigars?”
“Yeah, I hate those things,” he said. “They smell like a candy apple burning or something.”
“What did he look like?”
“Let’s see…Real fair-skinned guy, light colored hair. Almost white.”
“When was he here?”
“Ah, I don’t know. He left a couple of hours ago, I guess. You want to see what he left me for a tip?” Jonathan swept up the small pile next to the register. “Looks like a hundred dollar bill all torn up. Is that weird or what?”
“Where’s Jackie?”
“He’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“He told me not to tell you.”
“Jonathan,” I said. “He could be in big trouble. If something goes wrong, you gonna be able to live with that?”
He didn’t say anything.
“He’s with Bennett, isn’t he.”
“Yes.”
“Where did they go?”
“He didn’t tell me, Alex. I swear.”
“When did he leave?”
“Around six o’clock, I’d say. Right after Bennett called him.”
“What did Jackie say? Did he tell you why he was going to see him?”
“He said he was gonna go help him with something. That’s all he said.”
It was enough. I hit the road at top speed, hoping I wasn’t too late.
Chapter Nineteen
I had just left Paradise when I picked up the cell phone and dialed O’Dell’s. Margaret answered.
