Winter of the Wolf Moon (10 page)

“It’s all right,” I said.

“So I lost it, Alex. I went after him.”

“I understand.”

“I got my hockey stick out and went after him. All his buddies got out there in about two seconds. I think maybe they were already on their way out. I got a few good shots in, but then somebody jumped on me.”

“And then the cops tried to break it up? Did they identify themselves?”

“I don’t even know,” he said. “I don’t remember. I guess there were two off-duty Soo cops there. I was just swinging, Alex. I didn’t care who I hit.”

“What about Bruckman and his guys? The cops arrested you and let him get away?”

“Why would they arrest him?” he said. “I was the one who attacked them.”

“Didn’t you tell them he was selling drugs?”

“After I hit the cop in the face with my hockey stick? I’m gonna tell him what to do?”

“So they got away.”

“Yes.”

“So later that night, Dorothy runs away from him. And then he comes after her.”

“If anything happens to her, Alex … So help me God, I’ll kill him.”

“Save it,” I said. “Let’s just get you out of here.” “I told you, I don’t want the tribe bailing me out.” “I know a bondsman,” I said. “In fact, I think we’ll be his first customer.”

“You don’t have to do this, Alex.”

“Yes, I do,” I said. I stood up and pushed the chair away. “I need you to help me find her.”

There was a pay phone in the lobby, with a phone book sitting on the shelf under it. There was no chain. With city police on one side and county deputies on the other, I guess they figured you weren’t going to steal it. I looked up the number and dialed, shaking my head. This is a mistake, I thought. There’s a bondsman down in Mackinac. He could be here in an hour and a half.

“You have reached Leon Prudell,” the voice said. “I’m not here to speak with you at the present time. If you are in need of my services, please leave a message. I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I possibly can. If this is an emergency, please try paging me at this number …” Then came an 800 number with a nine-digit code I had to scramble to write down.

I hung up the phone, told myself this was my last chance to change my mind, and then dialed Leon’s pager number. I punched in the number for the pay phone and then hung up the phone again. It took less than a minute to ring.

“This is Leon Prudell,” he said. “How can I help you?”

“Prudell, this is Alex McKnight. I need a bail bond.”

“Alex!” he said. “Damn, this pager really works! You’re my first call! You’re calling me to tell me you’ve reconsidered the partnership idea, right?”

“Just get down to the county jail,” I said. “I need a ten-thousand-dollar bond. I can get that for a thousand, right?”

“Yes, ten percent,” he said.

“How do you get the money?” I said. “I mean, where does it come from?”

“I told ya before, I’m hooked up with a security firm. Part-time for now. This will be my first bond. And listen, I don’t even need to fill out all the paperwork. You’re my partner, after all.”

“I’m not your partner,” I said. “How long will it take you to get here?”

“Well, I’m on my other job right now,” he said. “But for you, I’ll drop everything. What are partners for?”

“I’m not your partner,” I said. “Prudell, goddamn it, just get down here.”

“On my way, partner.” And then he hung up.

I banged the phone on the hook. The receptionist peeked up at me and then went back to her typing.

I sat down on one of the hard plastic chairs in the lobby, looked at the cover of a magazine.
Michigan Out of Doors,
about two years old. I picked up another one,
Field and Stream,
only a year and a half old. Not that I was in any mood to read. I got up and went outside, pulling my coat around my neck as I stepped out into the parking lot. It was the kind of heavy cold that gets into your bones, makes you feel like sleeping until April. The snow was coming down hard now. A good six inches since this morning.

I stood out there and watched the snow come down, waiting for Prudell to show up with the bond.

“Excuse me, Mr. McKnight?”

I turned around. It was a Soo city officer, holding the door open.

“Can you come back inside for a moment, sir?” he asked. “Chief Maven would like to see you.”

“Tell him if he wants to see me,” I said, “he can come out here.”

The cop didn’t say anything. He just stood there with the door open, each breath turning to mist in the frigid air. The look on his face told me he wasn’t getting paid nearly enough to put up with this.

“I’m coming,” I finally said. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint Chief Maven.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said as he held the door open for me.

“What’s it like working for him, anyway?”

“You don’t want to know,” he said. He led me into the city offices, deep into the middle of the building.

There was another little lobby outside his door, with four plastic chairs. Apparently when the chairs from the front lobby were broken down and wobbly enough, they moved them here. The magazines, too, after they had aged for at least three years. It was the kind of place that made you want to take up smoking.

The officer left me there. I sat in one of the chairs for a few minutes. You’ve been here before, I said to myself, and you know how this works. Maven is sitting in that office right now, probably with his feet up on his desk, reading the paper. You’ll wait here for an hour while he does his little power trip on you.
Then when you’re nice and tender he’ll call you in and try to make you his lunch.

Not today. Not after what I’ve been through in the last two days.

I got up, went to his door, and opened it. Maven was on the phone. He looked up at me like I had just run a spear through his chest.

“You wanted to see me, Chief?” I said.

“Goddamn it, McKnight, what’s the matter with you?” He hadn’t changed since the last time I saw him. He was a tough old cop like a thousand others I had known. Thinning hair, mustache, a weathered face that had seen too many hard winters. He was an ugly bastard, but he made up for it with his winning personality.

I sat down on the chair in front of his desk. “I’m pressed for time,” I said. “You’ve got five minutes.”

“I don’t believe this,” he said. “I’m sorry,” he said into the phone. “I’ve been rudely interrupted here. I’m gonna have to get back to you … Yes … Yes, I will. Yes. I said yes, already. Okay, good-bye!” He slammed the phone down and looked at me. “Did somebody tell you to come in here without knocking?”

“You know, I think I figured out why you’re always in such a bad mood,” I said.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t blink.

“Look at this place,” I said. His office was four concrete walls. No windows. Not a single picture or personal artifact on his desk. “I just spent a few minutes in the jail,” I said. “And I gotta tell ya, it’s a lot nicer in there than it is in here.”

“That’s what I wanted to see you about,” he said. “What were you doing in the jail?”

“I was visiting a friend.”

“This friend wouldn’t happen to be Vinnie LeBlanc, would it?”

“That would be him.”

“Who told you could see him? He’s in city custody.”

“Yes,” I said. “But it’s the county jail.”

“That doesn’t mean Shit, McKnight. The next time you visit somebody in my custody without asking me first, I’m gonna throw you in the cell next to him. Do you understand?”

“Why did you arrest him?” I said.

“You’re joking.”

“Why?”

“Well, let’s see, because he assaulted a police officer? Because he broke a fucking hockey stick across his fucking nose? You need more than that?”

“He was going after a man named Lonnie Bruckman,” I said. “A man who was selling drugs to another Indian. Did you bring Bruckman in, too? Did you even question him? Did your guys even
notice
him? Or did they just pick out the Indian and jump on him?”

“This has got nothing to do with you,” he said. “We know about Bruckman. We’re handling it.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” I said. “The county’s looking for him. He abducted a woman last night.”

“I know,” he said. “I know all about it.”

I leaned back in the chair and looked him over. “It happened in Paradise,” I said. “There’s no reason for you to be involved in this.”

“You want to find her or not? The county needs all the help they can get.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Besides,” Maven went on. “Bruckman lives in the Soo.”

There it was, I thought. He had to let that one out, just to flex his muscles. “Of course,” I said, “Dorothy was staying there, too.”

“Naturally,” he said.

“Bill told me about it. That place over on …” I let it hang.

Maven just shook his head. “Nice try, McKnight. Like I said, this has nothing to do with you now.”

“She was in my cabin,” I said. “He took her out of my cabin.”

It was his turn to lean back in his chair. “Yeah, about that,” he said. “Let me see if I got this straight. The last guy you were protecting ended up on the bottom of Lake Superior. Now this woman comes to you and asks you to protect her, and you put her all by herself in a cabin in the woods so her ex-boyfriend can come kidnap her in the middle of the night. Have I got that right?”

I just looked at him.

“I got one thing to say to you, McKnight. I hope to God that you’re at least giving these people a nice discount on your rates.”

“Are you done?” I said.

“I’m done,” he said. “Now go home and stay out of the way. Let the real cops do their jobs.” And then he picked up his phone and waited for me to leave. Just like that.

I got up and left. There was nothing I could say to
him, nothing I could do short of going over the desk and strangling him. I just left him sitting there and went out and closed the door behind me.

I walked up and down the hallway a few times, not even sure if I was more angry or confused. The whole exchange with Maven had a spin to it that just didn’t feel right. Besides the insults and the stonewalling and the whole tough guy act, that much I expected. There was something else. But I couldn’t figure it out.

When I got back to the front lobby, I saw Leon Prudell coming in the door, shaking the snow out of his red hair. He had on a down coat that looked maybe two sizes too small on him. It probably fit him right when he wore it in high school twenty-five years ago.

“Alex,” he said when he saw me. “I’m just on my way to the clerk’s office. I have the bail right here.”

“How’d you get here so fast?” I said.

“I was in town, anyway,” he said. Then after a long moment, “I’ve got a new job. For the winter, at least.”

“Yeah?”

“I sell snowmobiles,” he said.

“Oh God,” I said.

“In the summer, I’ll probably have to sell outboard motors. What can I say, it’s a job.”

“I know,” I said. “Because I took your old private investigator job. We’ve been through this before.”

“No, no,” he said. “That’s ancient history. We’re partners now.”

I looked at the ceiling. “Prudell …”

“Time’s a-wasting,” he said. “I gotta bail out our man. Vincent LeBlanc, right? City charges, you said?”

“Yes,” I said. “Go bail his ass out while I go use the bathroom.”

He went on his way while I found the men’s room. I walked in and found Bill Brandow standing at a urinal. I stepped up next to him.

“You’re having a tough day,” he said without looking at me.

“Bill, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” He still didn’t look at me.

“Something’s not right here. Maven’s acting funny. You’re acting funny.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was acting funny,” he said. “It’s not the kind of day to be acting funny.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I did my business and he did his, and then he washed his hands and left.

I went back out to the lobby and looked out the front window at the snow. It was coming down in flakes as big as cotton balls. When I finally turned around, Prudell was leading Vinnie out through the door to the holding cells. I saw a nice purple bruise on Vinnie’s right cheek that I had missed before.

“The trial is in seven days,” Prudell said. “I trust you’ll be here in court?”

Vinnie looked at him without saying anything.

“Please don’t make me come find you,” Prudell said.

“He’ll be here,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Good enough, Alex,” he said. “I’ll leave him in your hands.”

“Did you hear that, Vinnie?” I said. “You’re in my hands now.”

Vinnie just stood there looking miserable.

“Okay, partner,” Prudell said. “What’s next?”

“What do you mean, what’s next?”