They split up in town. His mom had to run some errands and he walked the street, stopped in a video arcade for a while, played a few games of Mercenary Force and then walked down to the lake. He could see the dark shape of a freighter creeping on the horizon, hull pointing south, heading for Chicago or Milwaukee.
He started to go back into town and saw Del’s, an old log building with a sign on the front that said “Hunting Outfitters since 1955.” His dad used to take him there when he was younger.
Luke opened the door, went in, let it swing closed behind him and then it was quiet, not a sound. He stood looking at a wall of heads all staring at him-elk, caribou, whitetail, bighorn, pronghorn, antelope, boar, dik-dik, Kodiak blacktail-and more animals, their bodies stuffed and perched on the exposed log rafters: a fox, raccoon, badger. Across the room there was a seven-foot grizzly ready to attack, and next to it, a full-size polar bear with a king salmon in its claws.
From somewhere in the room, a voice said, “Dropped ever one of ’em with sticks and strings.”
Now Del Keane appeared from some unseen place, a big man with a dense gray beard and gray hair combed straight back and tied into a braided ponytail that went halfway down his back, like a hippie version of Santa Claus. He wore suspenders over a flannel shirt.
Luke was staring at a deer head with a twelve-point rack.
“That fine gentleman,” Del said, “was the Pope and Young world-record Kodiak black tail, November 1988. Put one through his wheelhouse, never knew what hit him. What’s your name, boy?”
“Luke.”
“You a hunter, Luke?”
“Not anymore.”
“I’m Del Keane at your service, what can I do for you?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.” He was nervous, uncomfortable all of a sudden. He took a step toward the door and Del moved with him.
“You’re Owen McCall’s boy, ain’t you?”
Del took a pipe out of his shirt pocket and lit it, blowing smoke that smelled like sweet cherrywood into the room.
“I better go,” Luke said.
“Awful thing that happened,” Del said. “Lost my own daddy when I was about your age.”
He took the pipe out of his mouth, holding the bowl. He looked off across the room and then back at Luke. “Ever talk to him?”
Luke didn’t know what to say.
“Your daddy,” Del said. “Ever talk to him?”
“Mr. Keane, he’s dead and buried.” Luke moved closer to the door. He wanted to get away from this crazy old man.
“You’ve got to tell him what’s on your mind.”
Luke said, “I keep seeing him with that broadhead sticking out of his chest.”
“Son, your daddy’s not feeling any pain where he’s at. Let me tell you something.” He drew on the pipe and blew out a cloud of gray smoke. “What happened was an accident. Like I told you, go out to the woods, talk at him. Square things. I guarantee he’s not blaming you. In fact, he’s watching us right now, I’ll bet. Up there with the likes of Art Young, Saxton Pope and my own daddy, Lester Keane.
“You tell him Del Keane says, hey. And get my room ready. I’ll be joining him before too long.”
“I’ve got to go,” Luke said. He wanted to get out of there. He went through the door and let it slam behind him, walking fast and then running into town.
On the way back to the lodge, Kate looked over at Luke and said, “I saw you coming out of Del’s. How’s he doing?”
“He’s weird,” Luke said. “How old is he?”
“At least seventy, probably older.” She went right, taking the highway out of Northport. There were cherry orchards on both sides of the road.
Luke said, “No wonder…”
Kate glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“He was talking about dying.”
“Something wrong with him?”
“He didn’t say,” Luke said.
“All I know is, he’s a strange old guy,” Kate said.
“And he doesn’t shower much,” Luke said, “I know that, too.” He grinned big.
“Your dad used to say every six months, whether he needed it or not.”
Luke grinned again. It had been a while since she’d seen him so relaxed, so animated, and it made her feel good, like he was his old self again. She wanted to hang on to this moment. Kate had always considered them close, good friends. He used to come home from school and tell her about something that happened in class-like the day they had a substitute teacher. Every time she turned her back to write on the board, everybody picked up their desk and moved it forward. Luke was laughing so hard he could barely tell it, describing the teacher’s reactions as she wondered what was going on. He told her about chanting “Ohh-eee-ah! Ee ohh — ah!” from The Wizard of Oz. You could do it with your mouth closed, looking right at the teacher, and he’d freak ’cause he didn’t know where it was coming from. He told her about Lauren, his first real girlfriend, admitting he liked her a lot and thought about her all the time and wondered if that was normal. They talked about music and movies and sports: tennis and the Detroit Tigers.
“Mr. Keane said his dad died when he was my age,” Luke said. “At first I thought he was crazy, but what he said makes sense.”
She glanced at him. “What did he say?”
They were passing Woolsey on the left, the world’s smallest airport. Luke was turned toward her in his seat.
“I should talk to Dad. Go out in the woods and tell him what I think, what’s on my mind.”
Hearing it bothered her a little. This old coot with his backwoods psychology got through to Luke, made a positive impression with one conversation. Something a trained psychiatrist hadn’t been able to do in almost seven months of sessions. Something she hadn’t been able to do either. But if Del Keane’s advice could help Luke, she was all for it.
When they pulled up in front of the lodge, Jack was there, leaning against the trunk of his car, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. Luke looked over at her but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell if Jack showing up bothered him or not. “I didn’t invite him,” Kate said. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Luke said. He sounded normal, out of his funk for the first time in months. He got out of the Land Rover and went in the lodge.
“I decided I’d come up, take my chances,” Jack said. “I got a motel room down the road in case you’re worried.”
Kate said, “How’d you know I was up here?”
“I called Maureen.”
“That’s right, she gave you a card, didn’t she? She gives everyone her card. You want to come in and see the place?”
He followed her inside, standing in the main room that had to be fifty by fifty, varnished log walls, and a wood-plank floor partially covered by a large Oriental rug. There was a furniture grouping-couches and chairs and end tables and lamps-in front of a huge fieldstone fireplace you could walk into. There was a staircase that led up to the second level-and above that, a thirty-foot beamed cathedral ceiling supported by log trusses.
“The kitchen and breakfast room are over there,” Kate said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.
He looked past the table and chairs into the kitchen. There was a stainless-steel industrial stove and Sub-Zero refrigerator-freezer. He liked it, big open floor plan.
Jack said, “How many bedrooms?”
“Four. All upstairs.”
Kate took a check out of her purse and handed it to him. “I was going to give this to you earlier, but it slipped my mind. For your real estate deal.”
Jack held it in his hand. Stared at it-fifty thousand.
“I couldn’t remember the name of your company,” Kate said.
“Eldorado Estates,” Jack said.
“You can fill it in,” Kate said. “I’m sure there will be some papers to sign, huh? You have them with you?”
Jack couldn’t believe it. “Why’d you change yo
ur mind?”
“I didn’t. You obviously think it’s a good deal. So I’d like to take advantage of it and help you out.”
Jack shook his head.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Jack said. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
Surprised didn’t begin to say it. He was floored. He was thinking of the things he could do with fifty thousand dollars-cash the check, be on his way. He saw himself on the beach in Cabo, living like a king for years in Mexico. But, on the flip side, he saw the money running out, and then what? Fifty grand sounded like a lot to him at the moment, but wasn’t enough to even make it interesting.
Jack handed the check back to her. “You’re too late. Deal closed yesterday at five o’clock.”
“You sure?”
No, not completely, but he said, “Yeah, positive.”
The way Jack looked at it, all he had to do was win her back and there’d be a whole lot more than fifty grand.
Teddy got a tree stand-gun hunter’s special, plus climbing spurs and T-pads and seven-by-fifty Bushnell binoculars-at an outfitter in Northport. The owner was an old guy with a long gray beard, reminded Teddy of the bass player in ZZ Top. Man smelled like dead meat his dad used to hang in the cellar. Jesus, he was ripe. It was a strange place, filled with animal heads.
Old guy said, “You’re a little early for deer season.”
Teddy-thinking, you can’t even buy a goddamn tree stand without somebody getting in your business-said, “Am I too early to see grosbeaks and warblers?”
The old guy perked up and said, “Ever see a Kirtland’s warbler?”
“Kirtland’s warbler?” Teddy said, pretending to be interested. “No, I don’t believe I have.”
“And you’re not going to unless you go downstate between Grayling and Mio,” he said, pointing at Teddy with the mouthpiece of his pipe.
Old graybeard was a real sexual intellectual, a fucking know-it-all. Teddy said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Only eight hundred pairs still in existence,” he said, wanting to tell Teddy every goddamn thing he knew about them.
That had all happened earlier. Now he was forty feet off the ground, setting in the tree lounge, drinking an MGD, watching Jack’s rich lady’s place that was about thirty yards away, just inside the tree line, and it was some place. Neither DeJuan nor Celeste knew from tree stands, so Teddy was elected.
Got up before dawn, drove over, walked a couple miles through the woods and found the tree.
DeJuan said, “Can’t miss it. Biggest one near the house on the east side.” He strapped on the spurs and T-pads, climbed the tree and set up the stand. He was drinking coffee, relaxing as the sun came up over the water.
He saw Jack’s rich lady sleeping and saw her get out of bed, watched her through the binoculars-filling up the tub and then taking her clothes off and getting in, making faces as she got used to the water. Teddy zooming in and holding on different parts of her-looked like she was close enough to reach out and touch. She soaked for a time and then stood up and got out and dried off. Seeing her naked body warmed him up against the chill of morning. She was a looker. He’d drink that bathwater she was setting in.
SIXTEEN
The bar was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with men in work shirts and fertilizer caps, drinking beer and shots and smoking cigarettes. Kate and Jack sat at a table and ordered bottles of Bass Ale. They had their backs to the door and could feel the draft move across the floor when somebody came in. The band, four long-haired Indians, kicked it out from a stage at the far end of the room.
Luke was out for the evening, on patrol with Bill Wink-“seeing a real cop in action” was how Bill put it. Kate grinning, thinking about it. She took Jack to the Happy Hour Tavern for sauteed perch and now they were at Boone’s Prime Time in Suttons Bay.
“I forgot why we came here,” Jack said.
Kate said, “How many chances you get to see Crazy Horse live?” She tapped a cigarette out of her pack and lit it. “They take requests, I understand. What’s your favorite speed-metal song?”
“I’m going to have to think about that,” Jack said, “there are so many.”
The band finished their set and said they were going to take a break. Jack got up, said he was going to the men’s.
Kate was thinking about Jack’s reaction when she gave him the fifty thousand. She’d agonized over it. She didn’t trust him and figured that was a way to find out if he was still working a con. He could’ve taken the check, cashed it and disappeared, if money was what he was after. He shocked her by giving it back, and now felt bad she doubted him. It looked like he’d changed; he was a different person after all.
Kate felt someone staring at her, looked over and met the gaze of a rugged-looking guy standing at the bar. He winked at her and she looked away. Now he came over to the table and sat in Jack’s seat. He had a longneck Rolling Rock in his hand.
“When they start letting injuns play instruments?” He drank his beer and said, “How you doing?”
Kate said, “I’m with someone.”
“Yeah, I know and you could do a lot better if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Kate said.
He had a square jaw and looked strong under the dark T-shirt and nylon jacket, like someone who worked construction his whole life. He had a mullet too.
He said, “How we going to get to know each other with that attitude?”
He was leering at her and it made her uncomfortable.
“What do you do,” Kate said, “that makes you so confident?”
“I’m good.”
“Yeah? What’re you good at?”
“Anything I set my mind to.”
He grinned, showing tobacco-stained teeth, and drained his beer bottle.
“Why don’t you set your mind to going back where you came from, try that,” Kate said.
He stood up but continued to stare at her.
“I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kate said.
He moved to the bar, looking back at her, grinning and put his empty on the bartop. He was sleazy, scary-looking. He creeped her out-made her nervous.
She saw Jack appear now, coming back into the room and she was relieved. The guy with the mullet stepped in front of Jack as he walked by the bar. She could see them exchanging words. Mullet pushed Jack and Jack pushed him back. Then a young good-looking girl walked in and separated them. The girl put her arm around Mullet’s waist and the three of them talked for a few minutes and Jack came back to the table.
Kate said, “What was that all about?”
“Some clown had too much to drink, was looking for trouble,” Jack said, sitting down.
It didn’t look that way to her, studying their body language, but Kate had no other explanation.
“Never seen him before in my life,” Jack said, looking her in the eye. “You okay?”
“He sat down where you are now,” Kate said, “tried to pick me up. Thinks highly of himself, very confident for a guy with a mullet.”
“That’s what shots and beers will do for a guy, give him a false sense of himself.”
He sounded like an expert on the subject.
The car ahead of them was having trouble staying in a straight line, kind of swerving in the lane.
Bill Wink said, “Looks like we’ve got somebody’s been over-served.”
They were cruising on a two-lane county road, flat, fallow fields on both sides. Luke was thinking about his dad when Bill flipped a switch on the dash and the light bar came on. Luke could see the multicolored reflection of the lights flashing through the windshield and off the white hood of the police car. More lights reflecting off the back of the car that was slowing down, pulling over, Luke listening to the dispatcher’s steady, measured voice, broken up by static from the police radio.
Bill said, “First thing we do is run the plate, see if there are any outsta
nding warrants.”
He punched the license number into the computer.
He said, “Know what kind of car that is?”
Luke said, “Z28 Camaro, ’69 or ’70.” It was green with a white racing stripe that went over the hood and trunk lid. He knew cars. He’d grown up at the racetrack and could probably name every American car from 1960 on.
Bill had picked him up earlier and brought a Point Blank Pro Plus vest for Luke to wear, Bill saying it belonged to a lady deputy-the men’s vests were too big-but that Luke had to wear one, departmental regulations. Luke wore it under his sweatshirt and was surprised how heavy and uncomfortable it was. Bill wore one too under his brown short-sleeve uniform shirt, showing off his arms.
“Ever been shot at?” Luke said.
“I was a rookie in Garden City. There’d been a shooting in the neighborhood. My job was to keep people out of the crime scene, make sure evidence wasn’t contaminated. I was talking to this woman who walked down the street and I’d swear I saw these two dudes come out of nowhere, pick her up and put her in the back of an Escalade-kidnapped her. I’m going, what in hell’s name is happening here?”
“What’d you do?”
“Followed them. They pulled into a shopping center; I pulled in behind them. I was doing a plate check just like this, see who I was dealing with. That’s when the shooting started. One of ’em had a machine gun, opened fire on my patrol car. I called for backup but I was pretty much on my own. Found out later, they were former Iraqi soldiers, Republican Guards worked for Saddam Hussein, hired by a local A-rab.”
“They hit you?”
“It’s a miracle I’m sitting here,” Bill Wink said.
“Did the vest save your life?”
“My patrol car looked like Swiss cheese,” Bill said. “Guess how many rounds they fired.”
Luke said, “Twenty.”
“Twenty? Try a hundred and eleven. I was hit six times. Each round stopped by Point Blank Pro Plus body armor just like you’re wearing.”
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