“I don’t like that tone of voice, Mr. McKnight.”
“You’re not going to like my boot up your ass, either,” I said. “The woman just found out that her husband is dead and you let her go running out into the freezing rain. Did she have a coat on even?”
The cop just looked at me.
“If you don’t get out there and find her right now,” I said, “I swear to God, I’ll beat you so bad you won’t even recognize yourself.”
“Alex, come on.” Uttley moved in between us.
“The chief is on his way over here,” the cop said. “You can deal with him.”
“Let’s go find Edwin’s mother,” Uttley said. He led me out of the kitchen. The door closed behind us as the cops went outside.
We went through the house to the guest wing, and stood outside her room. We could hear the faint noise of her sobbing. Uttley tapped on the door. “Mrs. Fulton? It’s Lane and Alex.”
There was a long silence. Then the door opened. Mrs. Fulton looked ten years older. “What do you want?” she said. Her voice was raw.
“Mrs. Fulton,” Uttley said. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
She looked at me. “What about you? Are you going to say you’re so sorry, too?”
“Mrs. Fulton…” I said.
Her open hand hit me across the face. I didn’t even try to stop her. “You were supposed to protect him,” she said. “That was your responsibility.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I hate you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I hate this place. I always hated this place. It’s cold and dark and full of backwoods trash and Indians and… oh God, Edwin. Please. This can’t be happening.”
Uttley put his arms around her. I left the two of them there in the hallway.
At the window I could see that the rain had let up into a steady drizzle. But the wind was still howling and it kept whipping up the surface of the lake. I could see the waves crashing on the rocky shoreline below the house. It wasn’t even a lake anymore, not on a day like this. It was a sea, the kind of sea that wrecks ships and pulls men to their deaths. And now Edwin was out there, somewhere at the bottom of all that cold water. The state would drag the lake near where the boat was found, I knew, but it would be hopeless. These waves would pull his body down to the deepest, coldest heart of Lake Superior, down where the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald lay. All twenty-nine men would welcome him into their midst.
Rose did this. Rose killed Edwin and then he dumped his body in the lake. The water was calm enough last night, before the storm hit. He could have taken him out a good mile or more if he knew how to row. He heaved Edwin’s body over the side of the boat and watched him sink. And then he rowed back to shore. It must have been dark. Maybe the rain was beginning to fall already. Maybe the water was already turning ugly. Maybe it was hard rowing all the way back to shore.
But he did make it back. I know that because I read his note. I saw the boat and the blood and the long blond hairs. It was Rose. Somehow it was Rose.
And he’s still out there.
I rubbed my face where Mrs. Fulton had hit me and watched the two police officers outside. They had come around the house and now they were working their way down the path to the beach. When they got to the shore, they split up, one going in each direction.
A minute later I saw Sylvia come around the opposite side of the house. She started down the path where the officers had gone. And then she stopped. She turned around and looked right at me, as if it suddenly came into her mind that I must be standing there at the window watching her. She didn’t have a coat on, just a sweater. It was wet and it clung to her body. Her hair was tangled by the wind. She was shivering.
I was just about to go out to her, to offer her my coat and to try to convince her to come inside. But something stopped me. Why in God’s name I didn’t go out to her, I don’t know. I just kept standing there looking at her until she finally turned away and went down the path toward the lake.
God help me, I still wanted her. After all that had happened I still wanted her.
“McKnight,” a voice said from behind me. It was the last voice in the world I wanted to hear. And along with that voice came a hand on my shoulder.
I turned around and faced Maven. His hair was wet, his face bright red from the wind. I could see a couple welts on his neck from where my hands had been. There was another man standing next to him, a man who looked like he was ordered from the same catalog. He was a little younger than Maven, he had a little more hair, a better mustache. But that same hard-ass cop look in his eyes, that same little power-trip gum-chewing swagger. And he was just as wet and windblown as Maven. I was expecting to get a double-barrel shot from both of them at once, but instead Maven said, “Alex, how are you doing?”
I looked from one face to the other. I didn’t know what to say.
“Listen, Alex,” Maven said. “I know this is difficult for everybody. I just wanted to apologize, first of all, for our… disagreement earlier. And I want you to know that I am truly sorry about the loss of your friend. This is Detective Allen from the Michigan State Police.”
“Mr. McKnight,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.”
I shook his hand. I still didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t figure out why he was talking to me like an actual human being. He must be putting on a little show for this state guy, I thought. Although I couldn’t imagine Maven sucking up to anyone.
“Detective Allen has been trying to get a couple boats out to drag the lake in the vicinity of the crime scene, but I’m afraid the weather is not being very cooperative.”
“Even if this lets up,” the detective said, “you realize that it’s a long shot, of course. It’s a big lake out there.”
I nodded.
“In any event,” the detective said, “we just wanted to let you know that both agencies are on this case now.”
“You have the hair?” I said. “From the boat?”
“From the oarlock, yes,” he said. “We have some blood samples, as well. Although there’s probably not much doubt about whose blood it is.”
“Did Maven tell you about Rose?”
“Yes, I’ve been apprised of that situation.”
“We need to talk to him,” I said. “I mean, whoever it is that’s in that jail cell. You can make that happen, can’t you?”
I saw him give Maven a quick look.
“What is it?” I said. “You guys aren’t telling me something.”
“Mr. McKnight…”
“You know something about Rose, don’t you.”
“Alex,” Maven said, “we’d like you to come down to the station with us. I think we all need to work together to get to the bottom of this.”
“Just tell me what’s going on,” I said.
“Not here,” Maven said. “Please, Alex.” He looked around. “We don’t want to disturb anyone else. Where’s Mrs. Fulton, anyway?”
“She’s lying down,” Uttley said as he came into the room. “What’s going on?”
“This is Lane Uttley,” Maven said to the detective. “He’s the Fultons’ lawyer.”
“I’m Detective Allen from the State Police,” he said as he shook Uttley’s hand. “We were just going over some matters with Mr. McKnight.”
Uttley looked back and forth between them and then at me. “Going over what matters?”
“They may have some information about Rose,” I said. “They want me to go back to the station to talk about it.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
“No,” I said. “You’ve got to stay here, Lane. Mrs. Fulton needs you here. And Sylvia-” I turned around and looked out the window. “Sylvia is out there.”
Lane came to the window and looked out. “Where is she?”
“On the beach,” I said. “She doesn’t have a coat on.”
While we stood there, the two Soo officers came back into view. They walked up the path toward the house, and when they saw all four of us standing at the window watching them, they stopped. I felt a lump in my stomach, and I pictured Sylvia wading out into the cold water, shivering and blue. But then finally I saw her walking down the shoreline. She walked right behind the officers, but they were oblivious to her. They just stood there looking at us looking at them.