A Stolen Season am-7

by Steve Hamilton

  He told me he’d be back after lunch, that he’d meet me there. So I went down to the Glasgow on my own. Past my empty cabins, with the wood split and stacked next to each front door, waiting for somebody to decide it was worth making the trip again. There’s a spot right where you turn onto the main road-you can see the lake through a break in the trees. The wind was kicking up three-foot breakers now. The sky was such a dark shade of gray, it was like you couldn’t even imagine the sun ever coming out again.

  I pulled into the lot and went inside. The place was empty. I stood there in the doorway wondering where Jackie was, until finally he came out of the kitchen, carrying a case of beer.

  “It’s you,” he said. A typical greeting. Born in Scotland, he had come to Michigan as a teenager. Fifty-odd years later, you could still hear a slight burr in his voice.

  “Where is everybody?”

  “Who the hell knows? If they live here, they’re probably at home in a deep depression. And if they don’t live here, they’d be crazy to come.”

  That pretty much summed up Jackie’s attitude these days. He was taking it hard. Not just because there weren’t any tourists around. Hell, he probably didn’t mind that part at all. But Jackie loved the summers up here, maybe more than anybody I could think of. He’s the guy who would pull his car over to watch a sunset.

  Maybe it was in his blood, some Scottish thing. A better appreciation for the kind of day they didn’t often see back in Glasgow. Or maybe he was just a tough old bird who had made it through another winter and expected a little sunshine.

  “And where were you last night, anyway?” he said. He set down the beer and started putting the bottles in the refrigerator below the bar.

  “Any chance of me getting an omelet?”

  “Go right ahead. You know where the kitchen is.”

  “Come on, Jackie.”

  “The one night I actually could have used some company,” he said. He banged another bottle in the refrigerator. “There wasn’t a single soul in this place. Can you believe that? First night I’ve ever seen that happen.”

  “Cheese and ham. Green peppers if you have them.”

  He stopped what he was doing, just long enough to glare at me.

  “Come on,” I said. “It’ll take your mind off your troubles.”

  “Use the small pan,” he said. “And don’t burn anything. It only takes a couple of minutes.”

  “Jackie…”

  “Why are you limping, anyway? Did you go find some trouble somewhere?”

  “You can ask Vinnie about it later. He’s the one with the bruises.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Jackie, are you seriously not going to make me an omelet?”

  “Two eggs, Alex. It’s so easy even you can do it.”

  “Fine. You’re obviously too busy out here with all your customers.”

  He slammed the case down, a little clue that maybe I was pushing my luck. I went back into the kitchen and started rummaging around. I found the right pan, then I took out two eggs and broke them.

  Not a minute had gone by, and Jackie was right there next to me. “What are you doing? Didn’t you ever learn how to break an egg?”

  “It’s not that hard.”

  “Get out of the way.” He pushed me aside and started taking the little bits of eggshell out of the pan. “You don’t have the heat high enough, either. I swear, you’re the most useless human being I’ve ever seen.”

  “Oh, I forgot to say…Good morning.”

  He threw in the green peppers. “You need to wait with the cheese, too. Until the very end. You getting all this?”

  “If I start doing all this for myself, you won’t even have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

  He took his spatula and worked it around the edges. This was the part that always threw me. This was when I’d usually give up and just scramble them.

  “Have you talked to her?” he said.

  I didn’t answer. I was surprised he had even asked. Jackie was the veteran of a bad marriage and an even worse divorce, and at this point in his life I didn’t figure he’d be changing his opinion on relationships with the opposite sex.

  “Not in a while.”

  He nodded. “It’s hard. Toronto’s a long way.”

  “There’s more to it. She’s working.”

  “It’s a long way, Alex. There doesn’t have to be any other reason.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Or if I could even argue his point.

  He put the cheese in and folded the omelet perfectly. “Get out of my kitchen.”

  “You’re a prince.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Go sit down.”

  “I think Vinnie might need one, too. He’ll probably be here later.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah. Your customer service needs a little work.”

  I left the kitchen before he could hit me with the pan. I sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, put my feet up by the fire.

  Jackie came back out with the omelet. He set the plate down on the little table. He stood there looking a little lost for a moment, like he didn’t know what to do next.

  “You should be enjoying this,” I said. “Nobody else to worry about for a while. Hell, you could even close the place and go somewhere.”

  He sat down in the other chair, made a sound like my suggestion was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

  “It just feels strange,” he said.

  “By strange you mean…cold.”

  “No. It’s more than that. Did you see that sky out there? It looks like the world’s gonna end soon.”

  “For God’s sake, you should go to Florida. Or where’s your son these days? Boston? You should go visit him.”

  “It’s just…wrong, Alex.” He sat back in his chair. “Something in the air is just plain broken.”

  That was the cheerful thought that hung in the air for the next hour or so. Jackie stayed by the fire. I kept my feet up. I could have gone back up and worked on my own, but I was in no hurry. Wait until Vinnie shows up, I told myself. And I hope he takes his time.

  The wind picked up outside. It would be raining soon. It would be the rain that blows sideways and makes you colder than any winter snowstorm ever could.

  Something in the air, Jackie had said. Just plain broken.

  The door opened. Two men came in. I didn’t recognize them at first. I thought it was just two strangers stopping by for lunch, or for a drink. Then I saw the damage. The first man through the door had a bandage on the left side of his face, right along the jawline. The big one had his right wrist wrapped up with an Ace bandage.

  The third one…He wasn’t here, but then he was the one who was unconscious when we found them.

  The first guy was wearing the same leather bomber jacket. He was a little shorter than I remembered. He looked around the place, then came right over to me. “You’re McKnight,” he said. “I remember you.”

  “How did you know my name?” I didn’t get up from the chair.

  “I was over by your friend Tyler’s place today. I wanted to find out who you are. And Mr. Prudell, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “My name’s Caplan, by the way. You can call me Cap. This is Bruce,” he said, indicating the big guy. Bruce nodded to me. With his wrist all wrapped up, he didn’t look inclined to shake my hand.

  “Reason we’re here,” Cap said, “is we just want to thank you. You know, for helping us out.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “You didn’t have to come all the way up here.”

  “Seriously, man. Least we can do is buy you a drink.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist. Please.” He stood there, his arm straight out as an invitation to the bar.

  “No, really.”

  “Where’s the bartender, anyway?”

  “I’m right here,” Jackie said. He got up from the chair. “Come on, Alex. Show the men some consideration. I
f they want to buy you a drink, let them.”

  “That’s right,” Cap said. “You should listen to this man.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Jackie said. He went back behind the bar.

  I got up slowly, wishing hard that I had told Jackie a little more about what had happened the night before. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been so fast with the hospitality.

  “What are you having, Mr. McKnight? May I call you Alex?”

  “Jackie knows what I drink.”

  Cap took one stool at the bar. The big man, Bruce, took another, leaving one open for me, right between them.

  “Here you go,” Jackie said, setting me up with a cold Canadian. “Are you gonna share some of your private stash with your friends here?”

  I gave him a look that should have taken ten years off his life. But before another word could be said he was taking out two more Canadian beers and putting them on the bar.

  “What do we have here?” Cap said.

  “Alex only drinks beer that’s been bottled in Canada,” Jackie said. “See if you guys can tell the difference.”

  I kept staring at Jackie. I couldn’t imagine why he was acting like a good host all of a sudden. He certainly didn’t use it on most people. Hell, if it was wintertime and you stopped in for one, he’d probably be yelling at you about the snow on your boots before you closed the door behind you.

  It was the day, I thought. The strange, strange day, and the fact that he hadn’t seen a real paying customer all week. It was going to his head.

  “This is outstanding,” Bruce said. He was holding the bottle in his huge hand, looking down at it with admiration. “Absolutely outstanding.”

  “I agree,” Cap said. There was something about the way he talked. He was too self-aware, too smooth for his own good. I thought I had him figured pretty well, the type of guy I’d run into my whole life, in high school, in baseball, then later on both sides of the badge. Three inches too short, always trying too hard to make up for it. All car and haircut, and not much else.

  Yeah, I thought I had him pegged.

  “Did Alex tell you how we met last night?” Cap said to Jackie.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well…we were out in a boat. It was pretty dark. And foggy.”

  “Last night?” Jackie said. “You were out in a boat? You’re kidding me.”

  “Pretty dumb, I know. We paid for it, believe me. Yes, sir. We were at the casino down in Bay Mills, and we ended up going out across the bay.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Jackie said. “Those old bridge pilings…”

  “Is that what those things are? We never even saw them. Next thing I know, we were stopped dead and the goddamned boat was sinking.”

  “What kind of boat was it?”

  “Ah, some old thing,” Cap said. “A wooden boat.”

  “A Chris-Craft,” I said. “It looked like somebody had put a lot of work into it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jackie said. “You guys drove an antique Chris-Craft into those pilings?”

  “Whose boat is it, anyway?” I said.

  Cap looked at me. “It’s Harry’s boat.”

  “It’s his dad’s boat,” Bruce said.

  “It was his boat,” Cap said.

  “Harry was the driver.”

  “Yes.”

  “How many drinks did he have before you guys went out?”

  Cap hesitated again. “Two drinks. Maybe three. Harry can hold his liquor. Believe me, he wasn’t drunk.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’s legal, don’t worry. He looks younger than he is.”

  “And where is he now? Is he still in the hospital?”

  “Yes. In Sault Ste. Marie. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “Do you know that for a fact?”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Alex.”

  “Did you talk to the doctor?”

  “I talked to Harry. He’ll be fine.”

  “He looked pretty banged up last night. I’m surprised he’s even awake today.”

  “Alex, as I told you, we just came out here to show our appreciation.”

  “That didn’t seem to be your attitude last night,” I said. “As I recall, you accused us of hitting you. Like we’d actually be out there on the bay, waiting for someone to come by so we could ram them.”

  Cap didn’t say anything. He kept looking at me, straight in the eye. Jackie stood on the other end of the bar, watching us. He must have been wondering what the hell was going on.

  “I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot here,” Cap finally said. “Everything happened so fast last night. I think we were all a little in shock or something.”

  “Yeah. Or something.”

  He started tapping his fingertips on the beer bottle. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. There was a little smile on his face.

  “Before you guys got in the boat,” I said, “did you happen to run into a little trouble at the casino?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the Bay Mills Casino. Did you happen to have a little altercation with someone who works there?”

  “There may have been a little misunderstanding. Some Indian trying to act like a tough guy.”

  “The pit boss, you mean.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Without the casino he’d probably be selling little totem poles to tourists.”

  “I kinda doubt that. Anyway, he’s a friend of mine. You guys gave him some nice bruises.”

  “This is a small town,” Cap said. “Didn’t I tell you, Brucie?”

  I didn’t see the big man’s reaction. I was still looking at Cap.

  “Why are you really here?” I said.

  “I told you.”

  “Okay, then. You bought me a drink.”

  “Maybe there is one more thing.”

  “Surprise.”

  I saw it in his eyes just then. The little flash of anger. It came quick, like it wasn’t that far away to begin with. Not far away at all.

  “There was a box in the boat,” he said. “About this big.” He held up his hands about four feet apart.

  “What about it?”

  “It was yellow and black. Airtight. You know, designed to float.”

  “What was in it?”

  “Some valuables. Wallets, cash, that kind of thing. It’s just a box to keep things safe. Like a lockbox.”

  “I never heard of a lockbox that floats.”

  “It was in a boat,” he said. He seemed to be measuring his voice carefully now. “Everything in a boat should float, don’t you think?”

  “You may have a point. But why are you telling me all this?”

  “I was just wondering if you happened to see it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “It was in the front of the boat,” he said. “At one point, I remember seeing it. I was going to grab it, but that was when the other guy jumped in to turn off the motor. And then after that I think we were all pretty occupied with Harry. You know, making sure he was still alive and everything. I never saw the box after that.”

  “I never saw it at all. It probably just floated away.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Or else it sank. It might have gotten damaged and filled up with water.”

  “You’re answering pretty quick. Are you sure you don’t want to think about it?”

  I counted to three in my head. “I didn’t see it. I didn’t touch it. I don’t know anything about it. I can’t help you.”

  He finally blinked. He looked down at his bottle. I could see the veins in his forearms standing out as he worked his hands. If something was going to happen here, it was me and Jackie against the two of them. And the biggest man in the room was right behind me.

  “Do you…,” he started to say, slowly, “have any idea…”

  “Cap,” Bruce said.

  “Shut up, Brucie. I’m talking to the man. I think he needs to understand some things.”

  “Or
not,” I said. “I think I’ll just stay in the dark, if you don’t mind. I’d like you both to leave now.”

  “He needs to understand, Brucie. The man needs some enlightenment.”

  There was an old baseball bat under the counter. Jackie had had it there for years, and never had to use it. Not once. At that moment, I couldn’t help wondering if it was still there.

  “He really, really needs to understand.” He was working his hands harder and harder. Opening them and closing them. The only question now was how fast I could hit him with my bottle, and then what the big guy would do to the back of my head.

  That’s when the door opened and Vinnie walked in.

  Chapter Four

  Five hundred miles. Paradise, Michigan, to Toronto, Ontario. Across the International Bridge, then up around the North Channel, right through Blind River in fact, past the house where Natalie grew up. Turning south finally around Sudbury, down the eastern edge of Lake Huron, through Big Chute, through Barrie. Finally coming to the city itself, on the northern shore of Lake Ontario.

  Or if you’re a bird, you fly right over all that water. Like many other things in this life, how much quicker it is if you don’t have to go around something so unimaginably big.

  Or in my case…It’s almost immediate. I’m already there, in my mind, a thousand times every day. When I open my eyes in the morning, cold sunlight in my cabin window, I’m thinking about her doing the same in her own bed. Somehow I can feel that she is awake at the same moment I am. I can hear the shower as she steps into it. I know how long it takes her to be ready to face the day. Her hair dried, a few brush strokes across her cheeks. That’s all she needs. How much she hates to waste time.

  I know when she’s driving her Jeep. The music she is listening to. The sounds of a city all around her. It’s a miracle that I know this, moment to moment. A miracle both wonderful and terrible at the same time. After so many years, to feel this way.

  I don’t know how long it can last. Even now, I can feel it start to fade sometimes. A faraway station on the radio, lost in the air. In the mornings especially, when she goes to the operations room instead of to the precinct. Her whole routine different now. I have to ask her about it after the fact to fill in the blanks. That she has to take more time in the morning to put herself together. That she’s already wearing her undercover clothes when she drives into the city. That she’s still meeting with the task force before she heads out to the coffee shop.