Three days went by. I could still see the blood on the floor every night when I closed my eyes, but the colors were fading and the scene was shifting and turning into something else entirely. A different floor, with different blood. Then another, until they all blended together. If there was anything like true justice in the universe, I’d be exempt from bloody floors for the rest of my life.
I called Agent Long on the second day and she said they were still chasing leads, which might have meant they were getting absolutely nowhere. There was no way to tell. I called her back the next day and this time she asked me point blank to explain why Chief Maven was such a psychotic jackass. Her exact words for him. I was an unlikely person to defend him, but I asked her to remember what had happened to a man who had once been his partner.
“I hear what you’re saying,” she said, “but he’s driving us absolutely crazy over here.”
“How so?” As if I had to ask.
“I thought he understood this was our case, but he’s been up and down the street, personally talking to every neighbor. Plus he’s got his men rounding up every surveillance camera in town.”
“Didn’t you guys think of that?”
There was a silence then, as she processed my little dig.
“We’ve done this a few times before,” she finally said. “I think we’ve got it all covered, thank you very much.”
“Do you have anything new since the last time I talked to you?”
“It’s still ongoing,” she said. Making me wonder, once again, if they had anything at all.
I thanked her all the same, and wished her the best of luck with Chief Maven. Then I called the Soo police station. I asked for the chief and the woman at the desk told me she’d leave a message for him. He didn’t call back.
I shrugged it off for the time being and went back to working on the last cabin with Vinnie. It had finally started snowing hard again, like Beboong, the Ojibwa winter spirit, was making up for lost time. I plowed my road. In the evenings I’d buy Vinnie dinner down at the Glasgow. Jackie was still in a bad mood, chasing away customers. Three days since the day I found Raz on Maven’s kitchen floor, and now everything was almost back to normal.
So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was missing something important?
It was a Friday morning. As soon as I woke up, I knew there was only one way to get to the bottom of this thing. Only one person who could help me see things in a different way. I took a hot shower and got dressed and headed out. The wind had died down and the sun was trying to come out. It was almost a nice day, but I knew not to fall for it. You think spring is on the way up here and end up with a broken heart. I grabbed some breakfast at the Glasgow, got back in the truck, and then headed east.
When I hit the Soo I drove over to the Custom Motor Shop on Three Mile Road. It was the last place Leon Prudell had worked and I was hoping he’d still be there. But the man at the desk told me Leon was no longer an employee. Judging by the empty parking lot, I could see why. It’s hard to keep a full staff in the winter when you’re not moving snowmobiles.
I drove down to his house by the airport in Rosedale. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but I didn’t see much choice. The house looked quiet when I got there. The kids were off at school, no doubt, and maybe his wife was out shopping or something. That was my hope. I parked my truck and went to the front door. The old tire swing was still hanging from the tree in the front yard. Now it was covered with as much snow as could balance on its rounded surface. I looked at the rope tied to the thick branch above the tire swing and I couldn’t help picturing a young man hanging there. Something that would probably always come to me now, whenever I saw a rope and a tree.
Eleanor answered the door. She was roughly the size of an NFL linebacker, and was probably just as strong. I had seen her lift Leon completely off the ground when he had two broken ankles, and Leon wasn’t exactly a ballerina himself.
“Alex,” she said, and then I saw the cloud pass over her face. It was the same as ever and this is exactly why I didn’t want to be here. The woman loved me, I was sure of that. But she hated to see my face at her door.
The lead story on Leon Prudell is that he grew up wanting to be a private eye. It’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted to do. We got tangled up, once upon a time, and then we sort of worked together and for a while there he even referred to me as his partner. He even had business cards made up. After that, when I made it clear that I wanted no part in the private investigator business, he opened up his own office in Sault Ste. Marie. That office is closed now, and Leon has held a number of jobs since then. Still, he’s never given up on that original dream.
Any time he sees me, that dream is rekindled-which wouldn’t be a problem if that dream wasn’t completely impractical and occasionally dangerous. In fact, if Eleanor really knew how close I had come to getting Leon killed, well… the woman is strong enough to kill me with her bare hands.
“I’m just stopping by to see Leon,” I said. “I haven’t seen him around in a while.”
“He’s not here. What do you really need him for?” She looked at me the way I used to look at drug buyers when they tried to explain why they just happened to be driving down a certain street.
“I just want to talk to him. I’m not dragging him into anything, I swear.”
She opened the door and held out her arms.
“Come here,” she said.
I took a breath and waded in for the hug. I saw stars as she squeezed me.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, “but you know I hate it when you get him into trouble. I end up worrying about both of you.”
“I told you, I’m not here for that. How’s the rest of the family, anyway? You look good.”
“Don’t try to butter me up, Alex. It won’t work.” But she was smiling as she said it.
“Seriously, Eleanor. Where’s he working these days?”
“He’s up at the movies. He works there a few days a week.”
“The movies? You mean, like an usher?”
“They don’t have ushers anymore, Alex. What do you think this is,
1948?”
“Well, okay, so he’s like a ticket-taker or something?”
“Something like that. Whatever they need him to do. It’s just a temporary thing. He’s got a few other jobs lined up. Real full-time stuff.”
“Good to hear. Okay. Well, maybe I’ll wander up there. See how he’s doing?”
She gave me the look again.
“Just to say hello,” I said. “I promise.”
She let me leave without another bear hug. So I was back in my truck with all of my ribs intact, heading back up to the Soo. I was feeling a little guilty. I mean, I hadn’t lied to her. I was only going to talk to Leon. Yet the reason I was going to talk to him was because once again I had hit a dead end, and he was the only person I could think of who’d be crazy enough to listen to me. And smart enough to maybe even help me see the answer.
I know most towns in America have a grand old theater that’s probably shut down or already turned into something else entirely. If you’re lucky, the theater in your town is being reclaimed and cleaned up and turned back into what it was a hundred years ago. In Sault Ste. Marie, that would be the Soo Theater, and yes, it is being restored to its former glory. In the meantime, if you want to see a movie you have to go to the one cineplex out on the main business loop, down the road from the Walmart. It’s got the big parking lot and the eight separate screens, and on a lonely weekday in April you can go sit and watch an afternoon matinee on one of the eight screens and be the only person watching.
Leon was standing at the snack bar when I walked in. A big man with untamable orange hair, you’d never miss him, even if he wasn’t wearing his trademark flannel. Today, he had an official-looking blue Cineplex shirt on that didn’t quite fit him, and he had his name printed on a gold badge. He was staring off into the middle distance when I walked up to the snack bar, so it took a moment for him to notice me.