“Look at you.”
“You didn’t do this.”
“This wouldn’t have happened to you if we hadn’t been there at that hotel.”
“Who told you that? How did you-”
“This is what you get,” she said. “Just for being around me. First I hurt you and then you get beat up.”
“Stop, Natalie.”
“You really look terrible.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I mean really, really terrible.”
“How did you find me, anyway? You’ve never been here before.”
“Vinnie gave me directions,” she said. “I called him and asked him what had happened to you. I left a couple of messages on your machine.”
“I couldn’t talk to you yet,” I said. “I mean, I just couldn’t-”
“It’s all right. I don’t blame you.”
“But why did you come all the way over here?”
“I had to, Alex. Okay? I don’t even know why. I just had to see you.”
“Well, I guess I’m glad,” I said. “A little surprised, but glad.”
“Vinnie told me something happened at the funeral. He said you ran into some trouble.”
“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”
“Who did this, Alex?”
I sat up. “I can’t even think straight right now. I haven’t eaten anything today, and all of a sudden…”
“Here, just stay there,” she said. “I’ll get you something.”
I didn’t fight her. I watched her as she banged around in my kitchen for the next few minutes, trying to find something edible.
“The place is kind of a mess right now,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it. Where are your pans?”
“I don’t think any are clean. It’s been sort of a tough week.”
She picked up a pan from the pile in the sink, then put it down again. “Alex, put your coat on,” she said. “You’re coming with me.”
“I don’t feel like eating out, Natalie.”
“We’re not eating out, Alex. I’m taking you to my house.”
“I can’t.”
“Come on, get up.”
“No.”
“Alex…”
“I can’t leave, Natalie. I’ve got the cabins, and I’ve got to plow the stupid snow.”
“I already talked to Vinnie about it. He’s going to take care of your cabins. You’re supposed to leave your keys in your truck so he can plow.”
“Figures Vinnie would be involved in this. You had this all planned out?”
She came over to me. “No, Alex. Not all of it.”
“Well, let me tell you something. Nobody else could get me out of bed today.”
She smiled for the first time that evening. It was good to see. “Whatever you say. Now come on.”
She put a hand under my arm and helped me out of bed. When I was on my feet, I went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. She was standing by my desk when I came back in the room. She had a framed picture in her hands, the only framed picture in my whole place. “Is this your father?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Good-looking man.”
“Yeah, he was.” I picked up my coat and put it on slowly.
“You should pack some clothes, too.”
I stopped. “How long am I staying?”
“Until you’re better.”
“I don’t have that big a suitcase.”
I settled on a few days of gear and we went outside into the cold and the dying light. Her Jeep Cherokee was parked next to my truck. It felt strange to be leaving the truck behind, but I got into the passenger’s side and we were off.
We breezed right through Canadian customs. Even though she was on leave, she could still identify herself as an officer of the Ontario Provincial Police. The man asked about me and they exchanged a quick joke about me being her prisoner, and then we were sailing through Soo Canada.
It was getting darker by the minute, another winter day ending, this one in a way I would have never guessed. Neither of us said a word as the quiet streets passed by.
“So are you going to tell me?” she finally said.
“What’s the question?”
“Who did this to you?”
“Let’s just say I shouldn’t have gone to Mr. Grant’s funeral. His family didn’t make me feel very welcome.”
I could see her gloved hands working hard at the steering wheel now, like she wanted to pull it right off. “Did you call the police?”
“The doctor did. My old friend Roy Maven paid me a visit.”
“The Soo Michigan chief?”
“Yeah. The same guy who told me the day before to stay away from the family.”
She shook her head. “So why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know the Woolseys were part of the family. It was a mistake.”
“So for that they get to assault you? Because you made a mistake?” She turned to look at me, trying to keep one eye on the road. “Just because you showed up at the funeral? Imagine if you were still a police officer and you found somebody beaten all to hell and they said something like that.”
“I’m not saying that, Natalie. I’m not saying I deserved it.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. I’ve just heard it too many times. I’m sure you did, too, when you were a cop.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But it was always a woman. Black eyes, teeth missing. Whatever. It was her fault, not his.”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re right. It’s always a woman.”
She kept driving, following the Queens Highway due east, past the Garden River First Nation, past the old railroad bridge with the message written in white paint. this is indian land. We went through the small town of Echo Bay, and passed McKnight Road. It made me remember the first time I had come this way, and how that road had seemed like a good omen to me.
We drove through Bruce Mines, then Thessalon, past the abandoned motel on the side of the road, then the great expanse of the North Channel opening up to the south of us, through Iron Bridge and past the Mississauga Reserve, then finally into Blind River. A small spotlight lit up the monument next to the town hall-two men riding the logs, a testament to the great logging years on the channel. A couple more miles east of town we turned up her long driveway. With the four-wheel-drive Jeep, she crunched her way through the five inches of new snow without a second thought.
When we were inside, she made me a quick dinner. Then she took me upstairs and ordered me into bed. It was the same damned bed we had rolled around in every other time I’d been there. But now she just watched me lie down, never moving from the doorway.
“That was bad,” she said.
“What?”
“In the car. I was taking it out on you. I’m sorry, I’m just…”
“It’s all right.”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t know anything anymore,” she said. “Look at me. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing, Alex.”
