my feet, but I made do. As we left the medical center, I couldn’t help noticing that the flag was flying at half- mast.
“Do you think you should call home?” I said.
“The constable told me she already called them yesterday.”
“She called your mother?”
“Yes, she did. She told her I’d be home soon.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “How come they’re not here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your whole family. I’m surprised they weren’t camped out in the parking lot.”
“I didn’t want them to come up here,” he said. “I’m not ready to see them yet.”
“Well, it was good of her to call your family. Especially after what she went through herself yesterday.”
He looked at me. “Are you surprised?”
“No. She just didn’t seem very happy with us today.”
He looked back out the window. “Can you blame her?”
“That reminds me,” I said, picking up the phone. “Remember we had all those messages? As long as we’re still in town, with the cell tower…” I turned on the phone and checked the missed calls.
“Twenty-seven calls in all,” I said. “They just kept calling me.”
“When was the last call?”
“Let’s see. Yesterday. Around two o’clock.”
“None since then? They just stopped?”
“Yes.”
“They must have found out,” he said. “That guy who called you, didn’t he say he was Red’s brother?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“So I guess I know how he feels.” He kept looking out the window.
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose so.”
He didn’t say anything. I kept driving. I couldn’t help thinking about the man’s voice, the faraway voice of Red Albright’s brother-he had come all the way up here himself, just as we had done. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on. I couldn’t blame him for that, despite his lack of manners. He just wanted to know.
And now he did.
Home was eight hours away, down the same roads we had already driven on, through the same trees. It was only a few days before, but now it all felt different. The whole world had changed.
Vinnie slept for a while. He almost looked peaceful, until I’d hit a bump or until his mind would cycle through all the things he’d seen and he’d wake up with a start.
“Alex,” he said, more than once, with a sudden panic in his voice.
“It’s okay, Vinnie. We’re almost home. Go back to sleep.”
I stopped at a gas station in Wawa. I got out and pumped the gas, standing there in my cheap slippers and my coat covered with dried mud. I shifted my weight back and forth from one burning foot to the other. When I paid the man, he looked at me like I was a mental patient.
The day dragged on. I kept driving. I was tired, but I’d be damned if I was going to stop anywhere short of home. From Wawa we drove south along the shores of Lake Superior, around Batchawana Bay, into Soo Canada. We were so close to home now. All we had to do was get over the bridge.
“Oh, horseshit,” I said. “They’re gonna take one look at us and… God damn it.”
I picked up the cell phone and called information, got through to the OPP station in Hearst, and asked if Constable Reynaud was still around. A minute later, I heard her voice.
“Constable,” I said. “You’re still there. This is Alex.”
“What is it, McKnight?”
“We’re coming up to the bridge. Any chance you could call ahead and clear the way for us?”
“You’re all the way down there already? You shouldn’t have driven so far in your condition. It’s not safe.”
“I would have thought you’d be happy to get us out of the country.”
“Don’t get cute with me, McKnight. All right? It’s bad enough.”
“I’m sorry. We just want to get home.”
“I’ll call right now,” she said. “I’ll tell them to expect two men who look like shit.”
“That sounds about right,” I said. “Vinnie tells me you called his mother personally. I’m glad I got the chance to thank you for that.”
There was a silence on the line. “Mrs. LeBlanc sounded like a good woman,” she said. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Good night,” I said. “I’m sorry about your partner.”
She hung up.
I rolled through town and onto the International Bridge. Vinnie woke up and looked out at the water. “The bridge,” he said.
“Don’t worry, they know we’re coming.”
When we pulled into the American customs booth, the man had obviously gotten the message. He looked us both over and whistled. “They said you’d look bad, but good Lord.”
The sun was going down when we hit Michigan soil. We had forty-five minutes to go. Forty-five minutes to my own bed.
I drove the roads I knew so well, from Soo Michigan to Paradise, through the Hiawatha National Forest, along the southern rim of Whitefish Bay. It was too dark to see the water now. The sign on the edge of town said WELCOME TO PARADISE! WE’RE GLAD YOU MADE IT! I drove by the sign, stopped at the blinking red light, went past Jackie’s place to our access road.
Drop Vinnie off at his house, I thought. Get him inside, make sure he’s comfortable. Then go home and go to bed. And sleep for at least three days.
As I pulled onto my road, I was blinded by a pair of headlights.
“Who the hell?” I couldn’t imagine who was on their way out. Then I remembered all the hunters who were due to check out of my cabins. I would have been back in plenty of time to see them off, if everything hadn’t gone to hell.
I stopped the truck and opened my door. It was a long, black sedan. I didn’t recognize it. Two men got out.
They weren’t hunters. That was obvious. Then it came to me. The two FBI guys said they’d be in touch. They didn’t waste any time.
But I was wrong again. It wasn’t the FBI. I realized that as soon as I saw their faces, and the guns in their hands.
They had my cell phone number. With a little work, you could find out my address. And here they were.
They were on top of us before I could do a thing. No time to back up, no time to get out and run-not that we would have been able to run, anyway.
“Out of the truck,” the one man said. He said it in a matter-of-fact way, the way you’d tell a mover where to put the furniture. The guy on Vinnie’s side, he looked a little more serious about it. He had a big nose, but with all the advance publicity, I was expecting something even bigger.
I looked at my man closely as I got out. He was thick in the neck and shoulders, the way an old football player would look, years after he’s stopped playing. My guess was linebacker turned nightclub bouncer. He had a nice leather jacket on, a high forehead with thinning hair on top. I understand steroids are murder on the hair. There was a diamond earring in his right ear.
“Nice and easy,” he said. He gave me a quick pat-down and turned me around to face the other man across the bed of my truck. The whole scene was side-lit by the glare of the headlights.
“Which one of you is McKnight?” the man with the nose said. Red’s brother. He was smaller, built more like a baseball player. He had a leather jacket on, too-probably a size L to my man’s XXL. He was using a gun a lot more, holding it right to Vinnie’s temple, just above the tape.
“I am,” I said. I looked at Vinnie. He was doing just fine, all things considered.
