showed me the small window under the address line.
“I see the Detroit News there,” I said. “What are those other things?”
“Ah, just general stuff. Yahoo and Amazon, and something for the casino, it looks like. A real hacker could maybe get into his actual history file and really see where Vinnie was going. But I can only do the basics. I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Don’t be sorry. I dragged you all the way over here.”
“Let me try one more thing,” he said. “I can search on every file that’s either new or changed in the last couple of days.”
While I waited I picked up a pot holder decorated with the four Ojibwa colors. Yellow, red, black, and white. They represented the four points of the compass, the four races of man, the four medicines, the four seasons. I knew Mrs. LeBlanc had made this for him. “God damn it, Vinnie,” I said. “Did you think about your mother? Did you think about what this would do to her?”
“I see some cookie files here, Alex. Web sites will set them, and usually the site will be in the file name. Wait a minute, what’s this?”
“What is it?”
“It’s a map program. You know, you give them an address and it draws you a map with driving directions.”
“Can you tell what addresses he looked up?”
“No, not from the cookie. But maybe if I go to the Web site itself.” He typed in the name and waited. “God, when are we gonna get DSL up here?”
A good minute later, he was in the site. “Now, if this lets you recall the last few addresses…” He clicked the button for the saved addresses.
“We got something,” he said. “I see a couple here.”
“Don’t tell me,” I said. “They’re in Detroit. I bet one of them is Dallas Albright’s house.”
“No,” Leon said. “They’re not in Detroit.”
That stopped me cold. “Where are they?”
“They’re in Canada,” he said. “In Sudbury, Ontario.”
“Sudbury…”
“Do you know who lives there?”
“Yeah,” I said. Two addresses. Three people. “Yeah, I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What about the phone numbers?” I said, looking over Leon’s shoulder. “Are they listed on there?”
“No,” Leon said, “just the addresses, with the maps.”
“Can you print those out?”
“Sure.” He hit the print button. Vinnie’s printer woke up and started working. “Who are we talking about, anyway? I can look them up.”
“Helen St. Jean,” I said. “If it’s Sudbury, that’s got to be one of the addresses. The other is Ron and Millie something.” I thought hard, trying to remember their last name.
“I’ll try St. Jean.” He went to another Web site and typed in the name.
“Trembley,” I said. “Ron and Millie Trembley.”
“I’m not getting anything on Helen St. Jean,” he said. “Not in Sudbury. Of course, it’s not unusual for a single woman to be unlisted. I’ll try the Trembleys.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would he go up there to see them?”
“Those were the other people at the lodge, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m not getting the Trembleys’ phone number, either,” he said. “I can get them, but I’ll have to go home and use my database. We’ll stop there on the way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’re going to Sudbury, aren’t we?”
“Leon, I’m already in enough trouble with your wife. If I take you to Canada in the middle of the night, she’ll have my head on a stick.”
“You can’t go up there alone.”
“Sure I can. I’m just gonna find Vinnie and bring him home.”
“If it’s that simple, why don’t you just go in the morning?”
“Maybe I will,” I said. I didn’t want to tell him how worried I was-how confused and shook up, and how much I wished I was already on the road that second.
“You’re a terrible liar, Alex. Just get going. I’ll go home and find the phone numbers and call you on your cell phone.”
“Thanks, Leon. Once again.”
He gave me the two maps he had printed out, and sent me on my way. He drove home, and I headed straight for the bridge. It was after ten when I reached Canada. The man in the customs booth gave me a quick once-over, asked me what I would be doing in his country. I told him I was hitting one of the clubs in the Soo. He asked me the standard questions about drugs or firearms in the vehicle. I answered no to both. He told me to drive safely.
I took the Queen’s Highway east this time, instead of north. It ran through downtown Sault Ste. Marie, then out along the shore of the North Channel, passing through small towns like Bruce Mines and Iron Bridge. The phone rang just after eleven.
“It’s Leon. Sorry I took so long.”
“Don’t worry about it. Did you get the numbers?”
“Yeah, finally. Here they are.” He read me two phone numbers. I wrote them down on my pad, keeping one hand on the wheel.
“Thanks, Leon.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’m coming up to Serpent River,” I said. “I’ve got another couple of hours to Sudbury.”
“You’re making good time,” he said. “You gonna try calling them now?”
“Might as well. If this is all a big mistake, then I guess I’ll just be waking them up.”
“Well, just in case it’s not a mistake, I left a little present for you in your truck.”
“What?”
“You’ll have to reach inside your rear bumper, toward the driver’s side.”
“Leon, you didn’t.”
“I’m just taking care of my partner,” he said.
“Is it your Luger?”
“No, that gun’s just for show, Alex. I gave you my Ruger P90.”
“Luger, Ruger. How did you even get it in my truck?”
“When I came over to Vinnie’s cabin. You were parked outside, remember?”
“I assume it’s loaded.”
“No, it’s empty, Alex. I put an empty gun in your truck.”
“Leon, I swear to God…” I thought about the customs booth I had just rolled through, the lie I had told the man about not having a firearm, and then about all the other crazy things Leon had done in the short time I’d known him.
“Take care of yourself, Alex. I’m sorry I’m not there to cover you. Call me when you’re on your way home.”
He hung up before I could say anything else.
I put the phone down for a moment, shook my head, then picked the phone back up and called the two numbers Leon had given me. I got a recording on the first number-Helen St. Jean’s voice telling me she couldn’t come to the phone. The machine beeped and I froze for a second. “Helen,” I finally said, “this is Alex McKnight.
