North of Nowhere (21 page)

“Yeah, I called his boat.”

“On the open airwaves.”

“Yeah. He actually sounded real friendly on the radio, like I was his best buddy and he was happy to hear from me. That’s not a good sign. Like I said, things weren’t looking too good here. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done it.”

I looked out at the water. There was no sign of Blondie’s boat.

“How do you know which way he went?”

“Nearest dock for him is Batchawana Bay. I figure that’s where he’s headed.”

“How far is it?”

“From here, maybe an hour, hour and a half,” he said. “Of course, that’s where Isabella’s boat is, too. This could get interesting.”

We rode the waves for another half hour before we finally saw him. Even with the cargo, Vargas’s boat was a lot faster.

“We got him,” he said. “We’ll run him down in about five minutes. Do you want the honors?”

I didn’t know what to say. I looked at Leon. I had shot Blondie’s brother in the heat of the moment. Now, to kill Blondie in cold blood…

I thought about Jackie, his hands tied behind his back, his mouth taped, the gun pressed to his head.

I thought about my father’s cabin, reduced to ashes.

Could I do it?

“Where’s he going?” Vargas said. “He’s turning.”

We watched the boat turn north. Then we saw why.

“Holy fuck,” Vargas said. “It’s Isabella.”

It was hard to tell from a distance, but the boat coming at us had a long hull, and it was kicking up water like a high-performance racing boat.

“We gotta get out of here,” he said. He turned the boat hard, sending everything on the deck sliding from one side to the other. As we sped away, I went to the back rail and watched the big boat turn to intercept Blondie. Even over the sound of the motor, over two miles of open water, we could hear the shooting. Any doubts I may have had about killing Blondie in cold blood were about to be made a moot point.

“I hope Blondie puts up a good fight,” Vargas said. “It might slow them down a little bit.”

“Will they come after us?” I said.

“I wouldn’t bet against it right now.”

“Is he your contact in Canada?” Leon said. “The one you deliver the appliances to?”

Vargas looked at each of us, then back at the water. “Not him directly. But he has a hand in it. I missed the drop yesterday because of the weather, and today I came out to shoot up the Forsythe brothers. It’s not exactly the way he likes his business partners to act.”

Vargas kept pushing the boat at top speed. The waves were up to four feet now. Jonathan poked his head out of the cabin, asked if we could ease up on the bouncing a little bit. The look on my face sent him back into the cabin without another word.

Isabella’s boat was getting closer. It wasn’t going to catch us soon, but it was going to catch us. Vargas didn’t look behind him. He kept the boat going straight. I checked the GPS—we were still two hours from home.

Leon went scrambling across the deck, trying to collect up the rifles. The waves made it look like he was on a trampoline.

“Don’t even bother!” Vargas yelled. “If they catch us, we’re dead. No matter what.”

Leon sat down on the deck and held onto the rail. The sky grew darker, the waves picking up to six feet. It was slowing us down to under twenty knots. We could only hope it was slowing down the boat behind us just as much.

By the time we made it to Whitefish Bay, they had closed the gap to a half mile. I kept waiting for the first bullet.

Then I saw my second beautiful sight of the day. It was a Coast Guard patrol boat, forty feet of nautical authority, in gleaming white with the distinctive orange stripes. There was another boat right next to it.

Bennett.

“We have to dump these weapons!” Leon said. Before we got any closer, Leon and I rounded up the four taped-up rifles, along with my revolver, and slipped them off the back end of the boat. As we did, we could see Isabella’s boat doing a quick U-turn. They were close enough for me to see two men at the rail, looking right at us. They were both dressed in black, with black sunglasses.

“I never thought I’d say this,” Vargas said, “but thank God for the U.S. Coast Guard. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not thank them in person. Those boys can get a little nosy.”

He set a new course to the southwest, tracing a mile-wide circle around the two boats. When the Coast Guard boat finally pulled away and headed for the river, Vargas took us closer to Bennett.

He was nowhere to be seen. It was just Ham and Gill, calmly sitting at the controls, waiting for us to pull up to them. The rough water made it hard to get close.

“What happened?” I said to them. “Where’s Bennett?”

On cue, the cabin door opened. Bennett poked his head out, his forehead wrapped in bandages. “Are they gone?”

“We ran out of gas,” Gill said. “We had to radio the Coast Guard. We were afraid you might miss us coming back in. Bennett went down below so they wouldn’t ask too many questions. As it was, we had to explain this shattered windshield.”

“We just got ourselves a first-class reaming, too,” Ham said. “All the time they’re filling us up, they’re bitching at us about being out here in the open water, with the weather turning bad, and running out of gas. They must think we’re the biggest fucking idiots on the lake.”

“I’m not sure I’d argue with them,” I said. “Come on, let’s go home.”

We headed down the bay, toward the river. With nobody chasing us now, we could take our time. I went in and checked on Jackie. He was wrapped up in the blankets, and snoring.

“Are you telling me he slept through all that?” I said.

“As soon as the bouncing stopped,” Jonathan said. “That’s when he went out.”

“We’ll be home soon.”

“When do I start thanking you, Alex?”

“Next time you pull out my bar tab.”

He gave me a tired laugh. I slapped him on the shoulder and went back up to the deck.

Leon had taken over the wheel. Vargas was sitting by the back rail now, rubbing his left shoulder.

“You’re gonna be hurting tomorrow morning,” I said.

“Yeah, well, considering the alternative, I’ll take it.”

“How much of a problem are you gonna have now? With Isabella, I mean.”

“I think I’m done with that gig now,” he said. “I just retired.”

“Will they let you do that? Just walk away?”

“They’ll have to. I’m done.”

“All that talk about building houses up here, the new Bay Harbor—Isabella was behind that, too, wasn’t he?”

“He was. I think that’s done now, too.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

He looked at me. “Yeah, I suppose it is. It obviously wasn’t doing me any good. All it did was make me a target.”

“I don’t know how this day would have gone without your help. I don’t think it would have ended well.”

“I figured it would be in my best interest to keep you all alive.
Somebody’s
got my money, after all. You promised me the full story, Alex. I’m waiting.”

I told him what I knew, about Bennett and his son, about the money being long gone now. “You’re gonna have to take this up with Bennett,” I said. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“We’ll have a little chat about it.”

“When we get back to his place, why don’t you come in and have a drink?”

“I’ll catch up to you later,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll stop by.”

“You sure?”

“I want to go home and let Miata out. He’s been inside all day. Cynthia just will not take that dog for a walk.”

“Maybe you should go somewhere else,” I said. “You know, lie low for a while. Hell, maybe you should hire Leon again. After today, I think he can take care of anything.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Vargas said. “But don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

When we got to Bennett’s place, we all climbed down off the boats. Jackie was awake now, and none too happy about making his way down a ladder wearing only a blanket. When we were all on the dock, Vargas gave us all a long look, nodded once, and then pulled away.

“Hey, Alex,” Bennett said. “Whatever happened to the money bag?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the bag with the two thousand dollars in it?”

“I must have dropped it in the lake, Bennett. I’m real sorry about that.”

“Don’t even worry about it, Alex. I’m not saying you should’ve held onto the bag. I was just asking.”

“I need a drink,” I said. “I think we all do.”

I was the last one off the dock. I looked down the river, saw Vargas at the wheel of his boat, just before he disappeared around the bend.

It was the last time I’d see him alive.

We had our drinks. We had Margaret’s world-famous beef stew. I looked at each man, one by one—Jackie sitting there wearing some clothes Bennett had given him, the sleeves a good six inches too long. Jonathan, sitting next to his father, his left hand on Jackie’s back. Gill, who had come along to help his friend, without ever questioning us. Leon, his orange hair in complete disarray from the wind and the spray off the lake, still wearing his black windbreaker, sitting there with a weary smile on his face. My partner.

I couldn’t help feeling something for everybody there, even Bennett, the jackass who started this whole mess—sitting there with his head in bandages, telling Margaret all about the rescue, getting just about everything wrong. I could only imagine what the story would sound like a year from now. Bennett kept looking up at Ham, who was pacing around the room, still riding his adrenaline high. The look on Bennett’s face made me almost forgive him. Whatever was going through his mind when he started all this, none of that seemed to matter much now. Bottom line, Bennett did this for his son—his other son, Sean, the one who had gotten himself into so much trouble. It was a stupid, dangerous thing to do. But I didn’t have a son. Maybe there’s no way I’d really understand it unless I did.

The sun was going down when we finally left. I took Jackie and Jonathan home in my truck, with Jackie in the middle, falling asleep once again. We practically carried him up the back stairs, took Bennett’s oversized clothes off him, and put him in bed.

Jonathan and I went downstairs to the bar. We had another drink together.

“Tell me something,” I said. “Did Jackie ever tell you about his father?”

“Oh sure. My grandfather Eli. I never got to meet him, of course, but I’ve heard some of the stories. He had a million of ’em, I guess. Those years out on the north Atlantic, hunting U-boats.”

“He’s out there right now, huh? In that lake?”

“My father never told you any of this?”

“No,” I said.

“You should ask him about it.”

“I’ll do that.”

I watched him drain his glass. He looked so much like Jackie, on this night more than ever. At least to my eyes.

“What do you say?” he finally said. “Think he’d mind if we didn’t open for business tonight?”

“Just tell him it was my idea,” I said.

We kept the “Closed” sign on the door. Jonathan went up to his bed. I went home to mine.

I drove down to the end of my road, got out of the truck and looked at the ashes. I stood there in the dying light, trying to feel something, but I had nothing left. I went back to my cabin and crawled into bed. I could still feel the pitch and roll of the water as I fell asleep.

The phone rang. I sat up, my heart racing. For a moment, I was back on the boat, trying to find my gun. Why was it dark?

I found my bearings, took a breath, and looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. The phone rang again.

“McKnight, this is Chief Maven.”

“Chief?”

“I’m at Winston Vargas’s house. He’s dead. Get over here now.”

“Vargas is dead?”

“That’s what I said. Get up, get dressed, and get over here.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to see him, first of all. And because I want to ask you some questions. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

He hung up.

I drove in the darkness, from Paradise to the Soo, the second night in a row I had made this trip. There were four Soo police cars in the Vargas’s driveway. I parked on the street, went up to the door, and rang the bell. A Soo officer opened the door. I told him Chief Maven had called me. He showed me in and had me wait in the living room.

I sat there for a few minutes. While I waited, I tried to work out just how I was supposed to feel about Winston Vargas. It was no surprise he was dead. And yes, he had brought it upon himself. This would have happened to him eventually, one way or another. But not tonight. Not if he hadn’t been out there on the water with us.

I could hear the camera snapping pictures in the next room. I could see the light of the flashbulbs on the hallway floor. Finally, Maven poked his head around the corner. He looked tired.

“Come here,” he said.

I got up and went to the other room. It was the entertainment room, the same room where everything had started. Vargas was lying face first on the carpet, not four feet from where he was lying the night of the robbery. But this time, he wasn’t getting up, at least not until the coroner got there and zipped him into a bag.

I’d seen men with the backs of their heads blown off. None of them were bald like Vargas. Somehow it made the whole thing that much more sickening. There was no hair to soak up any of the blood, or to hide any of the grim details, like where the bullet went in or how much of the skull was destroyed. I had to look away.

“I suppose we should go back to the station,” Maven said. “Frankly, I don’t have the energy right now. I’m just going to ask you straight out, right here. Do you know anything about this?”

“I don’t know who did this,” I said. Technically, it was the truth.

“Do you have any idea why Vargas would be planning on a long trip? He’s got two suitcases packed upstairs.”

“We don’t exactly hang out together, Chief. How would I know?”

“Do you know anything about Vargas’s boat? Why, for instance, there’d be thirty high-end appliances packed into the cabin?”

“He was obviously into something pretty shady, Chief. Sort of sheds light on what happened here, doesn’t it?”

He looked at me. “It’s hard to believe you never made detective. You’re a natural.”

“I’m not trying to be a smart-ass, Chief. I’m just saying—”

“Do you happen to know anything about two men named Marcus and Derrick Forsythe?”

I hesitated. If I denied it outright, it could come back to hang me. “I think I know who they are,” I said. “Somebody’s been threatening me, along with Bennett, Jackie, and Gill. They thought we had something to do with the robbery, that maybe there was more money involved, and that we had it.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because you arrested three of us,” I said. “And I was guilty by association. It was all a mistake.”

“Caused by our mistake in making the arrests?”

“Chief, this is no joke. I’m sure they’re the ones who set my cabin on fire yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, you won’t have to worry about them anymore. We heard their boat washed ashore in Batchawana Bay a few hours ago. There was nobody aboard, just a lot of blood and about a hundred bullet holes.”

“So those are your three robbers,” I said. “These two Forsythe guys and this other guy, Danny Cox.”

“Uh-huh. It ties up pretty nicely, eh? All three robbers are dead.”

“And one of them,” I said, “I guess it had to be Cox—he was holding out on the other two. He set up Bennett, Jackie, and Gill just to cover himself.”

“So the DA should drop all the charges.”

“That’s up to him,” I said. “But I can’t imagine he’ll want to push this too hard.”

“No,” Maven said. “Knowing him, I don’t suppose he will.”

“Where’s Mrs. Vargas? And for that matter…” I looked around. Come to think of it, something else was missing. “Where’s the dog?”

“Mrs. Vargas is at the hospital,” he said. “She’s in shock. She saw the whole thing, apparently. She said two men walked right in, told her not to worry, they didn’t shoot women or dogs. They did him right here on the floor, one shot, and then they left. When we got here, the dog was practically foaming at the mouth. Damned little thing put up quite a fight when we tried to remove him.”

“So where is he now?”

“He’s in the garage. He just stopped barking a few minutes ago, must have run out of gas.”

“Can I see him?”

“What the hell for?”

“I just want to see him.”

“You go right ahead, McKnight. He’ll tear your face right off.”

I went through the kitchen, opened the door to the garage, and prepared myself for the attack. It never came.

“Miata,” I said. “Where are you?”

I turned the light on, saw Vargas’s Saab parked in one spot, his wife’s blue Miata in the other. I didn’t see the dog.

“Miata, come on out. I don’t need a sneak attack tonight.”

I walked around both cars. No sign of the dog. Finally, I got down on my hands and knees. The dog was under Vargas’s car. He was shivering.

“I know you’ve had a tough night,” I said. Hell, he’d seen his master’s head get blown off. “Just come here.”

When I reached for him, he bit me. I pulled my hand back, looked at the little drops of blood forming between my thumb and forefinger.

“You really got me,” I said. “Do you feel better now?”

I reached in again. This time he nipped the end of my ring finger.

“Miata, there’s something you should know about me. We’re actually a lot alike. If I know I’m right, I’ll fight anybody. You can bite me all you want, I’m not going to give up until I get you out of here. So give us both a break, huh?”

I reached for him again, gave him a little fake this way, then that way, and finally grabbed him by the collar. He was all teeth and claws when I picked him up and held him against my chest. I kept holding him tight while he fought me for a good five minutes. Then he gave up. When I took a step, he fought me some more. I held him. Five minutes later, I was back in the house with him.

“What are you doing with that dog?” Maven said. “Are you crazy?”

“Probably,” I said. “I wanna take him. Otherwise, he’ll just go to the pound, right?”

“We’d hold him until Mrs. Vargas was ready to claim him.”

“I don’t think she will,” I said. “If she does, just tell her to call me, okay?”

He shook his head. “Fine, McKnight. The two of you deserve each other.”

When I got to the truck, I expected Miata to put up another fight. Instead, he just curled up on the far corner of the front seat.

“I know how you feel,” I said. “I feel the same way. Tell you what, instead of you coming home with me, I’ve got an even better idea.”

I drove south to Rosedale. It was after one in the morning now, but I knew Leon was a night owl. I saw a couple of lights on inside the house when I pulled up. Miata let me pick him up this time. When Leon opened the door, he took one look at the dog and said, “Vargas is dead.”

“They got to him,” I said. “He had his bags packed.”

Leon shook his head. “You wanna come in?”

“No, that’s all right,” I said. “I couldn’t leave the dog there, so I was wondering if maybe your kids could look after him for a while.”

“You don’t want to?”

“We sorta got off on the wrong foot,” I said. “Besides, he’s too much dog for me.”

Leon took Miata, scratched his head, and said, “No problem, Alex. Between the four of us, we should be able to keep up with him.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Come on in, Alex. One drink.”

I went in and sat at his kitchen table, had a drink with him.

“I’m packing up the office tomorrow,” he said. “I’m giving up the private eye biz.”

“You don’t think you can make it?”

“I had one customer. Look what happened.”

“You saved Jackie, Leon. You came up with the whole thing.”

“Even more reason to retire,” he said. “Go out on top.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said.

“That’s what partners are for.”

We drank to that. I said good night to him. I left Leon with his family, and his new dog, and drove home alone.

It wouldn’t go away.

Everything else went back to normal. The charges were officially dropped. I spent most evenings having dinner at the Glasgow Inn, watching the Tigers on his television set. Jackie and I didn’t talk much about what had happened. One night, he asked me when I’d be ready to play poker again.

“I’m ready when you’re ready,” I said. “Just do me one favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Keep the game right here in the bar. We don’t play at some stranger’s house.”

“Typical,” he said. “You never want to go anywhere.”

That’s how I knew Jackie was getting over it. Every day, he was acting a little bit more like his old self again. Whether I liked it or not.

The summer passed. It got colder at night. The sunsets came earlier. They kept working on the golf course down in Brimley, but nobody was talking about major development. The new money hadn’t found us yet.

For now at least, our secret was still safe.

I worked on the last cabin every day, making runs to the dump with half-melted bed frames and blackened pipes, clearing away all the charred wood, getting the site ready. In another couple of weeks they’d deliver my load of white pine logs. I’d rebuild the cabin by hand, doing it the right way, the way my father had taught me back when I was eighteen years old. I’d use the original foundation, and my father’s stone chimney, and I’d rebuild the whole thing from the ground up, no matter how long it took me.

All that work, out in the sun, it should have cleared my head. It should have helped me get over it.

But it kept coming back to me, usually at night. Just as I closed my eyes, I’d be back on the boat. I’d see the same scene, played out over and over, hear the same words spoken.

Then one day, one of the last warm days of the summer, I was breaking up the one corner of the old cabin that hadn’t burned. I would use it for firewood. I had sharpened my ax, and was swinging it in the air, splitting the logs in half, and then into quarters.

Swing. Chunk. Swing. Chunk. Swing.

I stopped.

The ax hung in the air. I dropped it to the ground.

I stood there and thought about it, played it back again and again, just the one piece of it, one small loop out of the whole episode.

I got in my truck and drove.

Bennett was sitting at one of the tables when I walked in. Ham was behind the bar. I didn’t see Margaret anywhere.

“Alex!” Bennett said when he looked up at me. “How the hell are you? I’m glad you stopped in! Ham, pour the man a beer.”

I sat down. Ham brought the beer over. He put his hand on my shoulder as he put the beer down in front of me. “On the house,” he said.