With the sun down it had gotten even colder. Just stepping outside was an act of bravery. The snow made a sound like breaking glass when I walked on it. I could see a few lights on down the street. Another bar. A restaurant that catered to the snowmobile crowd. Woodsmoke rising from chimneys. Beyond that the motel. I couldn’t see it in the dark, but I knew it was there. I pictured the two men in their room. In their undershirts, maybe. One man sitting by the window. The other man, what? Cleaning his gun? Sleeping? I wished them a good night. Their last night before I came calling on them.
The truck hesitated in the cold. I shouldn’t have left it sitting outside all day without going out to start it. Not when it was this cold. Finally, it started. I pumped the heater on all the way and felt nothing but cold air coming out. Goddamn it all to hell, it is too fucking cold, I thought. It’s bad enough without being tired and sore, and already feeling like I’m a hundred years old.
I drove home. When I got to my road I put the plow down and cleaned up some of the drifts. Vinnie’s car was there. But then he said it hadn’t started that day, right? I dropped him off at the casino. Either he’s still there or he got a ride home. Whatever. I was too tired to think about it.
You did nothing but sit on your ass all day, Alex, and now you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. You are some physical specimen. Okay, so you have broken ribs and stitches over your eye, and it goddamn hurts when it’s so cold, and now you’re just talking to yourself, so go home and go to bed.
The front door to my cabin was actually closed for a change. But I stood outside the cabin anyway and told myself that nobody was inside waiting for me. Nobody has been here at all today. Nobody is watching you. Those guys are way the hell down the road at the motel. And Bruckman and his boys are way the hell over in Canada, with Leon hot on their trail, God help them. You’re feeling spooked because of everything that happened to you, so just forget it and go inside the damned cabin before you freeze to death.
When I finally went in I saw that Vinnie had spent a lot of time there trying to make things right again. There was food in the refrigerator, some new plates stacked on the kitchen counter. He had even put a new mattress on my bed to replace the one that had been slashed. He probably took it from one of the other cabins.
I got a fire going in the woodstove. The air didn’t draw well because it was so cold. I had to fight to get an updraft going but when I finally won that battle the fire burst through the paper and wood and started to give some warmth to the room.
I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror at the ugliest, most beat-up and broken man I had ever seen. There was a swelling over my left eye where the stitches were, green and purple against the white of the bandage. I didn’t even want to look at the bruises on my body. I took the pain pills out of my pocket and read the label. Every four to six hours, as needed.
As needed.
You’ve been down this road before, Alex. If you take them tonight you’ll take them again tomorrow morning and then at noon and then with dinner and then tomorrow night you’ll stand here and count how many are left. And then the pills will own you again.
I put the bottle down on the sink and turned off the light. With my clothes still on I climbed into my bed and lay there listening to the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. I rolled around for a while, trying to find a position that didn’t make my side ache. I thought about the pills again. It was going to be a long night.
The phone woke me out of a half sleep. I looked at the clock as I got up. It was just after midnight.
“Alex, it’s me,” the voice said.
“Leon? What is it?”
“I found him. I found Bruckman.” In the background I could hear the low growl of a jukebox.
“Where are you?” I said.
“I’m in a little bar on the east side of town. I caught up to them over here at the Straithclair Ice Rink. They were just leaving. I guess they got tossed from a game or something. I followed him to this place. They just started playing pool, so I think they’ll be here for a while. How soon can you get here?”
“Leon, we should call the police.”
“They’re in Canada,” he said. “What are we gonna do, call the Mounties? You think they’re gonna arrest these guys and send them back for us?”
“They’re wanted for assault,” I said. “We should call the sheriff and let him handle this.”
“Like he’s handling the two guys at the motel? Listen to me, Alex. We’ll call the police if you want to, but don’t you want to talk to these guys? Maybe they didn’t take Dorothy, but they’ve got to know something. Don’t you want to get Bruckman against a wall and make him tell you what the hell is going on?”
I stood there shivering for a long moment. On the phone I heard nothing but the distant sound of music and laughter. And then the sharp crack of a cue ball.
“What’s it gonna be, Alex?”
“Give me the address,” I said.
I wrote it down, put my coat and boots back on, and headed out into the night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I got the truck up to forty as I passed the Brass Anchor Motel. It was as much speed as I could coax out of an old truck on a snow-packed road, with 1,200 pounds of snowplow on the front and another 800 pounds of cinderblocks in the back. I pictured one of the two men sitting by the window, half asleep, maybe a cup of coffee in his hand. I could only hope he spilled it all over himself when he saw me rumbling by.
I made it all the way down the main road to M-28, then east a good ten miles before I saw the headlights behind me in the distance. Nice to see ya, boys. Glad to have you along for the ride.
They kept a steady quarter-mile behind me the whole way into the Soo, up I-75 toward the bridge. I didn’t see them behind me as I paid the toll and crossed the bridge into Canada. Far below me, the St. Marys River lay frozen solid.
As I pulled into Canadian customs, I remembered the gun in the pocket of my coat. “Oh goddamn it all,” I said aloud. I’ve got a carry permit, of course, and somewhere in the glove compartment I think I have my private investigator license. There’s probably some official way for a P.I. to bring a handgun into the country. I’m sure Leon knows how to do it. I could pull over and call him on his cellular phone. If he’s in his car. If I can afford the extra few minutes. There’s probably a form to fill out. Forget it, I’m going through.
The customs agent looked vaguely familiar. I had probably seen him before on a beer run. Why am I coming into Canada this evening? That was an easy one. Canada has strip clubs, Michigan doesn’t. Give him a knowing smile. Do I have any drugs or firearms in the vehicle? I looked him right in the eye and said, “No, sir, I don’t.” He let me go right through.
When I was into Soo Canada, I kept looking in the rearview mirror, waiting to see my two friends. They weren’t there. Now why the hell didn’t they cross the border?
Because they didn’t want to go through customs, Alex. They’re criminals, with five or six guns in the car. And they can’t lie to the customs agent like I can.
I worked my way through town, heading east. Forget about those guys for now, I told myself. You’ve got something else to deal with. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do when I saw Bruckman again. I felt a combination of fear and anger, and something else I couldn’t even identify. I started to shiver. I turned the heat up a notch, but it didn’t seem to help.
Easy, Alex. Just breathe in and out. You’ve got to go through with this. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t face him now.
I need a plan. Some way to get into that bar and get Bruckman out. Think, Alex, think.
I picked up Trunk Road on the east side of town and followed it all the way out past an industrial area toward the Rankin Indian Reserve. The Canadian Pacific Railroad ran next to the road. At this hour the tracks were empty. As I passed the eastern edge of town, the pine trees took over completely. Like most Canadian cities, the wilderness is never far way. I hadn’t been down this road before, but I knew from the map that it was bending back toward the northern shore of the St. Marys River. I kept going until I was starting to wonder if I had gone too far. Then I saw the side street I was looking for.