At that moment a snowmobile came through the trees. I winced at the noise. The driver slowed down when he saw us. Both of the deputies raised their hands for him to stop.
“What’s the problem, guys?” he said after flipping his visor open. “I wasn’t going too fast, was I?” I recognized the man. He was staying in the farthest cabin with a few other guys from Saginaw.
“Were you on this trail last night?” the male deputy asked him.
“Yes,” the man said. I could hear the apprehension in his voice. “But I was taking it easy, I swear. I know there are cabins nearby.”
“There’s no problem,” he said. “We’re just wondering if you saw any other snowmobiles. Like around…” He looked over at me.
“Any time between, say, one A.M. and this morning,” I said.
“We got back a little after one,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing any other machines on this trail. Besides the guys I’m with, I mean.”
“We should probably talk to the rest of your party,” the deputy said. “Are they in the cabin right now?”
“Most of them, probably,” the man said. “We’re supposed to be leaving today. Some of them might still be out on the trails.”
We made our way back to the car, wading through the snow again. We spent the next hour going to each of the cabins, asking the renters if they had seen anything suspicious.
Nothing. No leads, no information at all. I started to feel tired and hungry, sitting in the back of the car. And now that we had done everything we could possibly do, I could feel the despair gathering inside me. It was hopeless. Dorothy asked me to help her get away from him. And I let Bruckman or his buddies or whoever it was just come and take her away. They could be anywhere now. I knew the sheriff was looking for her, but what could he do? Find out where Bruckman’s living, go check it out. If he’s gone, then what? Put it on the wires. Keep working on it for a few days, then file it away.
The deputies rode in silence down the access road from the farthest cabin, back to mine. I could have guessed what was in their minds. They weren’t talking about it, but they would be as soon as they got rid of me. Maybe she wasn’t abducted. Maybe her boyfriend talked his way into the cabin, made a scene, threw some furniture around, then got down on his knees and begged her to forgive him. He loves her so much it makes him crazy, but it’ll be different from now on, and all the usual crap a guy like that says. And then she leaves with him. It happens all the time.
But I knew. I knew he took her against her will. And I knew it was my fault. I knew I’d lie awake all that night thinking about it.
“We’ll let you know if we come up with anything, Mr. McKnight,” the young man said. He slowed down in front of my cabin.
“Let’s take a ride down to the Glasgow Inn,” I said. “See if the bartender noticed anything last night. Or maybe somebody else did.”
He nodded. “It’s worth a shot.”
We went around the bend toward the main road. As we passed Vinnie’s place, I noticed that his car still wasn’t there. “Damn, that’s right,” I said. “I forgot about Vinnie.”
“Is there a problem?” he said.
“No, it’s just that my friend Vinnie hasn’t been home for a couple nights. He’s a member of the Bay Mills tribe, probably just spent the night there.”
The other deputy looked out the passenger’s side window. “Vinnie,” she said. “Vinnie what?”
“Vinnie LeBlanc,” I said.
“Vinnie LeBlanc,” she said. “That name rings a bell.”
“There’s a lot of LeBlancs around here,” I said.
“Yeah, I know, but I think I saw that name somewhere this morning.” She thought about it for a long moment, then picked up the radio. “I think I know where I saw it,” she said. She called in and asked for the front desk. When she had the man on the air she asked him if there happened to be a Vinnie LeBlanc on the premises.
I heard the answer myself. But I couldn’t believe it. Vinnie was being held in the county jail on a 415, 148 and a 240.
“Oh, is that the guy who-” the driver said.
“Yeah, he’s the one,” she said as she put the receiver back. “I thought I recognized that name.”
“What’s going on?” I said. “Those numbers, what are they again?”
The deputies looked at each other again. That same look that had been driving me crazy. Now I didn’t care anymore.
“I know I should remember,” I said. “It’s been a long time. Just tell me.”
“A four-fifteen is drunk and disorderly,” she said. “A 148-”
“Hold on,” I said. “That’s impossible. Vinnie doesn’t drink.”
“A one-four-eight is resisting arrest,” she went on. “And a two-forty is assault, in this case assault against a police officer. Your friend the Indian who doesn’t drink put a Soo cop in the hospital.”
I sat back in my seat. I didn’t know what to say. This whole day had become a nightmare.
“Look at the bright side,” she said. “At least you know where he is now.”
CHAPTER SIX
I made the deputies turn around and take me back to my cabin, then jumped in the truck and gunned it for the Soo. I swore at myself all the way down M-28. Above me the clouds were growing darker, ready to dump more snow on the world. The wind rattling through the plastic in my passenger side window numbed the side of my face.
And then, of course, I noticed that there was a single car behind me. A green sedan, two men in the front seat, following me all the way down M-28, through Strongs and Raco, all the way across Chippewa County to the Soo.
This is great, I told myself. Now I notice when a car is following me. Of course, today it doesn’t mean quite so much. For one thing, this is the only highway that runs from east to west in the entire county. And once you start at one end, you’re not going to stop unless you really need to pick up some of that beef jerky at the Stop ’n Go. So yes, of course there’s going to be a car behind me all the way to the Soo. And besides, now that they’ve gone ahead and kidnapped Dorothy, there’s no more fucking reason for them to be following you.
But apart from that, Alex, congratulations on your sudden powers of observation.
I maintained this wonderful state of mind all the way into Sault Ste. Marie, crossing over the hydroelectric canal into what passes for downtown. The City-County Building is a giant gray shoebox, perhaps the ugliest building I have ever seen. Uglier than anything in Detroit, which may be the world capital of ugly buildings. It sits right behind the courthouse, which has just enough charm to make the City-County Building look like an architectural felony.
The county sheriff’s office and Soo police department both share the building. As I pulled into the parking lot I saw the county cars lined up on one side and the Soo cars on the other. Next to the parking lot was an outdoor courtyard, no bigger than twelve feet square. There was a cage around the entire courtyard, making it look like a dog kennel, and then around the cage was another chain link fence with razor wire on top. A man sat on the one picnic table, the snow high enough to cover the seats. He was trying to light a cigarette, fighting a losing battle against the wind.
I went in through the county entrance and right into the sheriff’s office. If there was a receptionist there trying to stop me, I didn’t even notice her.
Bill Brandow was hanging up the phone when I opened his door. He looked up at me and then down at the pile of snow at my feet. “Look what you’re doing to the floor,” he said. “Didn’t your mother teach you to take your boots off?”
“What’s going on, Bill?”
“I guess she didn’t teach you to knock, either.”
“When did you start hiring high schoolers?” I said. “And better yet, why did you send two of them together? Don’t you even give your rookies experienced partners?”
“Jerry is older than he looks,” he said. “And Patricia could dump you on your ass with one hand.”
“Jerry and Patricia,” I said. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”