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Authors: Steve Hamilton

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense

Ice Run (18 page)

BOOK: Ice Run
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She looked at me. She looked at my face, the bruises and the tape and the new blood smeared all over my neck.

“You’ve had some bad luck,” she said. “Either that or you don’t know how to stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m a little tired now,” she said. Her eyes were starting to lose their focus. I put my right arm around her and pulled her close to my body.

“We’ll be okay,” I said. “Just hold on.”

The fire burned. The wind blew. The old woman slept against my chest. The other woman, Natalie’s mother, she was back in the barn, beyond the reach of any warmth at all. Natalie herself … I had no idea where she was at that moment. That was a complete mystery.

“Where are you?” I said. “Where the hell are you?”

Chapter Sixteen

The truck came, slipping its way up the driveway. As I looked out the window, I saw an insignia on the front grill that read “North Channel EMT.” The nurse must have found some way to contact them. Two men got out and knocked on the front door. They were surprised to see me open it.

They took us all the way down to the General Hospital in Sault Ste. Marie. I sat in the front seat while one of the men attended to Mrs. DeMarco in the back. On the way, I told the driver to call the police and to tell them that there was a dead woman in the barn behind the Reynaud house and that Natalie Reynaud herself was missing. On top of all that, I had a stolen truck to report, too.

He looked at me, then back at his partner. Then he made the call.

By the time we got to the hospital, the Ontario Provincial Police were waiting for us. The EMTs took Mrs. DeMarco right into the emergency room, but the OPPs had different plans for me. I had to run through the whole story while the doctor examined me. An officer stayed with me while I got my X-ray. As the doctor sewed up the wound in my neck, he told me the gunmetal fragment had just missed a major artery, and that I should officially consider myself the luckiest human being on the planet.

“Yeah, take a picture of me,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll use that as the caption.”

“This other guy was aiming a shotgun at you,” the doctor said. “You’re telling me it exploded in his hands?”

“I think so.”

He shook his head. “I can’t imagine what he looks like right now.”

“How did he get away?” I said. “How come I blacked out but he didn’t?”

“I couldn’t help but notice your other scars,” the doctor said. “Not to mention the little souvenir in your anterior mediastinum when I saw the X-ray.”

“What about it?”

“When were you shot?”

“In 1984.”

“So you’ve been there before. I’ve never looked down a gun barrel myself, but if somebody pointed a shotgun at me right now and blasted away, I imagine I’d pass out. Even if I wasn’t hit.”

“It was a different state of mind for Grant, you’re saying.”

“The man who fired the weapon? Exactly. He wasn’t expecting it. It was a total surprise.”

“So how far could he get? I saw the blood on the ground.”

“Hard to say for sure,” the doctor said. “Only thing I do know is that he’d better be getting himself to a hospital.”

It was hard to imagine. I almost felt sorry for him.

When I was all taped up, the doctor told me I could leave if I wanted to. I didn’t have a truck, of course, but the police officers were more than happy to escort me from the hospital. In fact, they even had a place for me to stay for a while, instead of going all the way home. In their polite Canadian way they made it quite clear I had no choice in the matter.

Before I went with them, I asked if I could see Mrs. DeMarco. One officer took me up to the sixth floor and let me peek into the room. She was sleeping. She took up such a small space in the bed. I stood watching her for a while. Her mouth was open, her breathing so thin you could barely tell she was alive. I couldn’t imagine how her heart kept beating. Almost a century old, this tiny woman in the bed. How much sorrow had she seen in her lifetime? How many hard winter nights like this one?

We left the hospital then. I rode in the back of the OPP car, across town to the main station. There I was shown into an interview room and asked to tell my story again. When I was done they asked me, again very politely, if I wouldn’t mind sticking around a little while longer, as there was somebody important on his way down to see me. I had no idea who they were talking about.

They let me lie down on a couch while I waited. I looked at the white tiles on the ceiling for a while, then I closed my eyes. I saw the body on the floor of the barn. The long wooden handle. I saw the two barrels of the shotgun pointed at me.

A noise woke me. I sat up, my heart pounding, ready for the gun blast all over again. An officer had come into the room and switched on the light.

I laid my head down again. My heart rate slowed back down to normal. I closed my eyes again. This time I saw Michael Grant holding the shotgun. It had already exploded in his hands. He looked down at what was left of the barrels. As he dropped the gun his hands were on fire. He held flames with each hand and the smoke rose to the ceiling of the old barn. He reached out to touch me with his burning hands.

I woke up then. There was a hand on my shoulder. The face looking down at me was familiar—the white hair, the rugged features.

“Mr. McKnight,” he said.

It came to me. It was Staff Sergeant Moreland, Natalie’s superior officer from the Hearst Detachment. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“What time is it?” I said. I looked out the window.

“It’s around eight in the morning.”

“Oh man,” I said, touching my neck. “I need some more drugs.”

“Perhaps we can talk first?”

He sat down at the table. He was moving slowly, and looked almost as worn out as I felt. I got up and joined him.

“Did you drive all the way down from Hearst?” I said.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I take it you remember me.”

“You’re Natalie’s commanding officer.”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time I saw you?”

“You told me to go back to Michigan and to never set foot in Ontario again.”

“I think it was more like a suggestion,” he said. “But yes, that was the general idea.”

“And obviously I didn’t.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Mr. McKnight, you understand why I said that, don’t you? You were involved in the worst homicide case I’ve seen in thirty-eight years on the Provincial Police force.”

“With all due respect, sir. I’m not sure ‘involved’ is the right word.”

“You were there, eh? You were right in the middle of it. Obviously, the whole thing took a toll on Constable Reynaud. When she went on administrative leave, I was hoping she’d be able to put it all behind her. Imagine my surprise when I find out now that she’s missing and that her mother has been murdered with an old ice hook.”

“An ice hook?”

“Yes. For moving blocks of ice around, when they used to cut them out of the channel. Someone stuck it right through her, McKnight, all the way to the floor. Once again, you’re right in the middle of everything.”

“Sergeant Moreland, I don’t know what happened to Natalie, but—”

He put his hands up to stop me. “If you’re involved in some relationship with Officer Reynaud, that’s none of my business,” he said. “Never mind what I’d say to my own daughter about it, who happens to be around the same age.”

I shook my head and looked away.

“But enough of that,” he said. “When she’s back home safe, then you and I might talk a little more, eh? Right now, I’m sure you’ll agree, our first priority has to be finding her.”

“Of course.”

“Naturally, we’re also trying to find the man who tried to kill you. His brother, too. I’m told that’s the person you were both looking for when you came up here?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’d like you to tell me everything that happened,” he said. “I know you’ve already been through this.”

“You want to hear it yourself,” I said. “I understand.”

“Take your time.”

I went through it one more time for him, starting with Simon Grant in the hotel and ending with the scene in the barn. He listened carefully to every word. Even though he had a pad of paper and a pen, he never wrote anything down.

“Go back to Marty Grant,” he said when I was done. “You say you saw him in Batchawana Bay?”

“Yes, when I went up looking for Natalie and her mother.”

“You have no idea why he might have been up there?”

“No, I don’t.”

“And you have no idea why he might have gone to Natalie’s house, assuming he did?”

“No, other than what his brother said about the devil of Blind River.”

“The devil of Blind River,” he said. He slowly tapped on the pad with his pen.

“I’m thinking that had to be Natalie’s father.”

“But you never talked to Grace Reynaud about this?”

“I never talked to her about anything,” I said. “I never got to meet her.”

“At least not alive.”

“No,” I said. “Not alive.”

“We’ve been in contact with the police in Soo Michigan,” he said. “Apparently you know the chief down there, Roy Maven?”

“We go way back, yes.”

He came as close to a smile as he was going to. “So I hear. In any case, they’re looking for both of the Grant brothers down there. They’ve spoken to the rest of the family, but they’re not getting much cooperation.”

“I’m not surprised. They seem like a pretty tight family.”

“Apparently, they told Chief Maven that they weren’t going to say a word to him. That’s exactly how they put it.”

“As opposed to telling him that they had no idea where either of the brothers were?”

“Right. It sounds like they know
something,
but they’re not talking.”

“Have you checked the hospitals? I was talking to the doctor about that gun, the way it exploded. Michael Grant is probably hurting pretty bad right now.”

“Naturally,” he said. “But we haven’t heard anything on that yet. We haven’t found your truck yet, either.”

“So what’s next?”

“I’m going to give you my card,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I’m going to put my home number on the back. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, call me immediately.”

“That’s it?”

“An officer will take you back to Michigan,” he said. “You’ll need to call someone to meet you at the bridge.”

“You came a long way just to hear my story.”

“I needed to see you in person,” he said. “You said you were an old cop, right? I’m sure you can understand.”

“I suppose I can.”

“Natalie Reynaud is one of my own. You know that.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“If anything happens to her …”

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to.

He called an officer to come pick me up. While I was waiting, I gave Vinnie a ring on his cell phone again. He didn’t answer. So I called Jackie at the Glasgow.

“Jackie,” I said when he picked up. “Is Vinnie there?”

“Alex, you damned fool, what the hell is going on there?”

“I’m coming home, Jackie. I’ll explain everything.”

“I told you, God damn it. Did I not tell you this would happen?”

“Yes, you did. Let me talk to Vinnie now.”

“You don’t have the sense God gave a turnip, you know that? I’ll be waiting right here, Alex. I’m gonna kick your stupid ass all over this bar.”

Good old Jackie, I thought. He knows me too well.

“Jackie, is Vinnie there or not?”

“No, he’s not. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Do I need to come get you?”

Wait a minute, I thought. Wait one goddamned minute.

“Alex, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”

Jackie knows what I’d do to help him out. Him or someone else I cared about. That’s why I got the big lecture in his kitchen.

“I’ll come pick you up,” Jackie said. “Just tell me where.”

“No need,” I said. “I’ve got a ride. I’ll see you soon.”

“The cops are bringing you all the way over to Paradise?”

“Yeah, no problem. I gotta go, Jackie. See ya soon.”

I hung up.

“God damn,” I said. I went to the window and looked out. It wasn’t snowing. “God damn, it’s the same thing all over again.”

It all came back, the last time someone had done this to me. Jackie had been in real trouble, and he was about to do something incredibly stupid. He was going to try to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t want me to be a part of it. He pushed me away. He told me he didn’t need my help, that I’d just screw everything up, as always. That I should just stay out of his business.

It hurt me when he said that. It was supposed to hurt. He was driving me away, for my own good. Because he knew if I got involved, I’d go all the way down the line with him, maybe even farther. I’d be in just as much danger as he was.

“Did you do the same damned thing, Natalie? Is that why you pushed me away?”

I went back to the pay phone and dialed a different number. A man answered with the name of the motor shop and asked how he could help me.

“I need to speak to Leon Prudell,” I said. “Is he there?”

A few seconds later, he was on the phone.

“Leon, it’s Alex. I know I’ve been asking you for a lot of favors lately …”

“Name it.”

“I’m in Soo Canada right now. I was hoping you could pick me up at the bridge.”

“What happened, did your truck break down?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“I’m on my way,” he said. “You want me to come right now?”

“You think you could run home first?”

“I guess so. Why?”

This is why I was calling him. Besides the fact he could get up here a lot faster, besides the fact he was my ex-partner—Leon Prudell always had the right tool for the job.

“I’ll wait for you on the American side of the bridge,” I said. “Bring a gun.”

I stood outside
the little duty-free shop, a hundred feet from the toll-booth. My head still hurt. My neck still hurt. It was too cold to be standing outside, but what the hell. I wanted to be cold. I wanted the wind to hit me in the face, maybe knock some sense into me.

Natalie needed my help. She pushed me away and I let her. Now she was gone.

I looked out over the edge of the bridge. The St. Marys River was frozen and covered with snow. Beyond that was the lake, where the ice ended and the water began, water so cold it would kill you in a minute. It would pull you down all the way to the bottom, to the hard granite, a thousand feet deep. Nobody would ever see you again.

It’s too easy to disappear around here, that’s the thing. If it’s not the lake, it’s the land around it, nearly three thousand miles of jagged shoreline, the trees, the empty places, the great wild north all around you, with an international border running through the middle. In the winter you can walk right across the ice, start the day in one country and end it in another.

BOOK: Ice Run
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