“You hate snowmobiles.”
“Not tonight. Does your cousin Buck still have one?”
“He’s got two.”
“He’s got a trailer?”
“Yes. Where am I going?”
“St. Ignace, by the point,” I said.
“Where the trail leads out onto the lake?”
“Yes, that’s the place. Vinnie, I know it’s a tough night to come out, but it’s important.”
“I’ll be there,” he said. Then he hung up.
I cleared off the windshield, pulled out of the lot, and drove into the falling snow.
He’s alive, I thought. God damn it, he’s alive.
It didn’t make any sense to me. Natalie wouldn’t have lied about that. She wouldn’t have lied about anything. But her mother…
That’s it. Of course. Somehow her mother made her believe he was dead. Another lie, like Natalie’s dead dog, like the story she told those men in the bar about Natalie dying from food poisoning. This lie was the worst of all. But why?
I gunned the accelerator, pushing the truck as fast as it could go on the icy road.
The hell with it, I thought. I can figure it out later. Right now I have to get out there. Not only is Albert DeMarco very much alive, he’s out on Mackinac Island right now.
And if I had to guess, I’d say that probably means one thing…
Natalie’s out there, too.
Chapter Nineteen
It was pushing midnight when I finally hit St. Ignace. I wasn’t sure where the hell I was going, but I knew there had to be a parking lot somewhere on the shoreline. I worked my way south, staying close to Lake Huron until I finally found the parking lot they used for the ferries in the summer. Now there were about a dozen vehicles in the lot, all covered with snow. There was no sign of Vinnie, or anyone else for that matter. It was the loneliest place on earth, because who’d be stupid enough to go out on the lake on a night like this?
I stopped the truck and kept the engine running. I put my head against the steering wheel and felt everything start to spin around me.
Just close your eyes for a little while, I thought. Save your strength.
A sudden knock on my window woke me up. Vinnie looked in at me. I checked my watch. It was twelve- thirty.
When I opened the door, I saw that he was wearing a snowmobile suit. Behind his idling truck was a double trailer. I got out and watched him back both machines down the ramp.
“Vinnie,” I said when he was done, “you brought two sleds.”
“That’s right,” he said. “You think I’m gonna let you go alone?”
“I appreciate it, but listen-”
“We’re losing time, Alex. Don’t fight me. Just get your suit on.”
“I don’t need a suit.”
“See, you need me already. If you don’t put this suit on, you’ll be a Popsicle by the time we get across.”
I took the suit from him and slipped it on. It was big enough for two of me. “Whose is this?” I said.
“It’s Buck’s. It’s big on him, too. Here’s your helmet.”
He handed me a snowmobile helmet with a visor. When I put it on, I was sure I looked exactly like an astronaut.
“Alex, are you gonna tell me why we’re doing this?”
“At least one of the Grant brothers was out there today,” I said. I pointed to the east. Somewhere out there the island lay embedded in ice and covered by the darkness. “Now Natalie’s stepfather is there. The man who was supposed to be dead. I think Natalie’s probably out there, too.”
“Good enough for me. Let’s go.”
“One second,” I said. I went back into the truck, unlocked the glove compartment, and pulled out Leon’s Ruger. He had left it with me when we went up to see Sergeant Moreland. I had lied about it both times I crossed the border. Now I was glad I had held on to it.
“I don’t have a gun,” he said.
“I hope you won’t need one.”
“You know exactly where we’re going?”
“I just follow the trees to get out there, right?”
“Yes. I mean once we get to the island…”
“The Grants’ house,” I said. “That’s the only place I know.”
“Okay, then,” he said. “Lead the way.”
“Whatever happens, I owe you big.”
He gave me one nod of his head, then flipped down his visor and got on his machine. I did the same. It was already idling with a low growl, making me feel like I was sitting on some kind of wild animal.
Lights, I thought. Where the hell are the lights? I fumbled around with the buttons for a few seconds until Vinnie reached over and hit the switch on the left handle. The lights were shining on the back of his trailer until I finally gave it some gas and pulled away, heading toward the end of the lot. The headlights reached out into the night now, finding only snow on the ground, then snow in the air, and beyond that nothing but darkness.
I drove off the end of the lot, quickly losing any sense of perspective. It was just a vast slope of snow, leading down and down until it was flat. I had no idea if I was on land or water. I wasn’t seeing any markers, either. I kept pushing the damned thing forward, trying to spot something in front of me. Anything. I kept bogging down in the deep snow, until I finally figured out that speed was my friend. I twisted the throttle back and stayed up on top of the snow, even though I had no idea where I was going.
I saw an arc of light to my left. Vinnie was breaking off and heading on a different course, so I swung over that way and finally picked up the line of trees. I fell in behind him, content to let him lead the way for a while. One tree flashed by, then another, then another. Vinnie was kicking up a great white cloud behind him. It was starting to stick to my visor. I tried to wipe it off with my left hand, which sent a bolt of pain through my neck.
The next thing I saw was a tangle of bare branches and then everything was turned upside down.
When I opened the visor, I was looking straight up at the falling snow. My neck hurt like all hell, but aside from that I seemed to be fine. The snow had acted like a big pillow. I heard Vinnie circling around. He pulled up next to me and helped me to my feet. I looked over and saw the tree lying sideways. It was just as Leon had told me, an old Christmas tree that somebody had stuck in the snow. In the glare of Vinnie’s headlights I could still see some tinsel hanging on the branches.
“You okay?” he said.
“I never hit a tree in the middle of a lake before,” I said. I rubbed my neck as I got back on the snowmobile. Then we were off again.
The snow seemed to get even deeper as we worked our way toward the island. I could feel the treads fighting hard to move through it. The wind rushed by. Five miles, I thought. It’s only five miles.
The ride seemed to last forever. The snow kept falling, as though it would never stop. If the trees hadn’t been there to guide us, I would have sworn that we were lost, riding around in great looping figure eights all over the frozen surface of Lake Huron.
Finally, a great mass started to take shape ahead of us, darker than the night itself. It grew larger and larger, until we could make out buildings and the faint glow of streetlights.
We rounded a corner by the big wall of boulders that formed a breakwater during the summer months. We rode right up past the docks where the big ferries let off the passengers, on the east end of Huron Street. At least we were right in town this time and didn’t have to ride all the way down from the airport.
We hit a big bump as we rode up onto the street level. There was probably some official snowmobile ramp
