Things got worse after that. His work started slipping and people at the agency began to ask questions. He overheard Louise on the phone, and when he tried to hear what she was saying she’d hang up. He spent hours at night watching Holly sleep. He knew it was all coming apart and he felt like he was letting her down after he promised her happiness. Near the end he knew Louise was planning to leave him and he was convinced she had found somebody else.
He bought a gun, unsure of what he was going to do with it. He kept it for weeks in his desk at work. He followed her one day and she met a man he didn’t recognize. They had coffee. Through the window he saw them talking, their heads close together. When they left the man took her hand and a look passed between them that he knew. It was the way Louise had once looked at him. He followed the man and found out his name and where he lived.
A week later Louise told him she wanted a divorce. She explained at length how the last year had made her life a misery. He listened, waiting for her to tell him about the guy, but she didn’t. Outwardly he was calm, but inside his mind a crack became a splinter that spread in every direction, and then it silently shattered. He watched the shards glittering as they flew outwards, little pieces of his existence, his sanity. He got up from the table and left the apartment wordlessly. At the office he retrieved the gun from his desk and then drove to the address of the man Louise had been seeing. He rang the bell and when the guy opened the door he shot him twice.
When he went home he told Louise what he’d done and he remembered most clearly of all how frightened she was. Holly had cried, not understanding what was happening. Louise pleaded with him, convinced he intended to shoot them both and turn the gun on himself. He’d thought about that often, unsure exactly what was in his mind. The police arrived and he held them at bay. After several hours he gave himself up. As he was being handcuffed Louise was taken outside. She looked back for one brief moment and in that instant he touched bottom, knowing he would never see either of them again.
It was cold. Michael stopped to get his bearings. He’d been walking aimlessly, lost in his memories. He thought about the meeting with Wilson. Perhaps Wilson had been right not to hire him. Perhaps people had a right to be wary of somebody who’d done the things he had. Heller once asked him if he thought he was recovered.
‘I thought you were the doctor,’ he’d said.
‘You don’t exhibit any psychotic signs, but then you haven’t for a long time. I want to know what you think.’
In truth he didn’t know. He recalled the dog that had strayed over to his house a few days earlier and the way the woman in the house next door reacted when he took it back. She’d been afraid of him. Who was to say that what happened once could never happen again?
He looked to the sky, which was just starting to change its hue as the afternoon faded toward evening. He felt insignificant, like he was the only person in the world. As if to prove him wrong a movement across the snow caught his attention. A man with a rifle over his shoulder walked across the slope without seeing him. Michael wondered what he was hunting.
CHAPTER 7
Ellis’s failure to find the falcon was beginning to piss him off. It wasn’t just the money any more that drove him out here every day, though that was still a big part of it. Now there were other things at play, like he had something to prove to one or two goddamn people, and maybe to himself as well.
He saw clearly now that what he should have done was to keep his big mouth shut. Since that night in Clancy’s, when he’d been shooting off about how he was going to come into some easy money, he had become the butt of everyone’s jokes.
Only the night before, Ted Hanson and Red Parker were shooting pool and when they saw him, Red straightened up from taking his shot and called out, ‘Hey, Ellis, I see you ain’t gone and bought yourself a new truck yet with all that money you was coming into.’
Hanson snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘What happened, Ellis?’ he said. ‘You go and lose your winning ticket?’
There wasn’t much he could do but grin and take it. He didn’t know where Hanson got the idea about the lottery. It was true he might have let them think he was talking about a lot more money than he was actually going to get, assuming he could even find that fucking bird again but he sure as shit never mentioned the lottery.
It was funny how things could get out of control that way. He didn’t even know why he’d made such a big deal of it. Maybe when he saw that falcon he thought his luck had changed. Jesus, times hadn’t been easy these last few years, so it wasn’t like he wasn’t due. He’d even made some calls and found he was right to think Tusker was cheating him, so he went back and got him up to eighteen hundred. Tusker bitched like he was cutting off his right arm or something, but in the end he agreed. Then last night Tusker called him.
‘When do I get that falcon?’ he demanded.
‘Soon,’ Ellis told him. ‘A couple of days.’
‘I already got a customer waiting so you better not let me down, Ellis.’
‘I said a couple of days,’ he repeated and hung up the damn phone.
The truth was he was beginning to think the falcon was gone, and with it the eighteen hundred and his chances of changing his luck. He must’ve hiked more miles every single one of the past few days than he’d done before in his life. He was freezing cold and not a damn thing to show for it. For some reason he could barely explain, he needed to find that bird. It had become the most important thing in his life. Like he was fixated on it or something. What the hell was that about?
He stopped for a moment and lit a cigarette with his Zippo, cupping his hands around the flame. A bunch of crows were making a fuss around the top of some trees, flapping around and squawking, and he raised his glasses to see what had got them worked up. He glimpsed a flash of pale almost white coloring and his heartbeat jumped a notch. The falcon ignored the half-hearted feints the crows were making. They were like a gang of street kids, full of macho bullshit. The falcon could have killed any one of them, but it flew past like they weren’t even there, and Ellis felt a grudging admiration. Too bad he had to shoot it.
He watched it rise, heading away from him and too far away to risk a shot. He followed it through his glasses and saw it land on a distant rock face and he marked the spot.
To his left the woods ran off in the same direction, and Ellis thought if he got closer using the cover of the trees he would have a clear shot. It was going to be his last chance that day, and maybe any day. The light was already beginning to fade. He dropped his cigarette and started walking. This time it would be okay. This time his luck would hold. He’d get the falcon cleanly. One shot. Then things would get better.
***
Michael watched the hunter from his position higher up among the rocks. He swiveled his glasses back up the slope following the direction the falcon had taken. At least that’s what he thought it was. He knew it wasn’t a hawk, which were a common sight soaring high up on thermals of rising air, their calls echoing over the valleys.
The hunter vanished into the trees. It was cold, and Michael thought he should be heading back to the house. Instead, he began heading uphill, following a parallel route to the hunter.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He had the feeling the hunter was going after the falcon, though he had no idea why anyone would do that.
***
The falcon perched on a narrow ledge high in the rocks. She had chosen a spot where she was sheltered from the prevailing winds. She wasn’t hungry, having killed a squirrel earlier in the day, and she was fully recovered from the battering she had taken in the storms that swept her south. During the past few days she had explored the terrain, and though she had encountered peregrine falcons and hawks, she hadn’t found others of her own race. Instinct urged her to fly north again, to return to her normal frozen habitat. She turned her dark eyes to the peaks rising blue-grey as far as the eye could see, and shifted restlessly. She was in her first
year, having fledged from the nest the previous summer. Later in the year she would need to find a mate, and it was this need that was calling her.
She looked back across the snow towards the woods. The figure was gone. She was unused to man, and the presence of the figure made her uneasy.
She flicked open her wings, feeling the breeze give her lift, but she was reluctant to leave her perch and settled again uncertainly.
***
Ellis was tempted to make his way to the edge of the woods so that he could see if the falcon was still there. It was gloomy in the trees, the light fading fast. He resisted the temptation, knowing if the falcon got spooked he’d lose it again, probably for ever. He labored on.
He thought about what he was going to do with the money. First, he was going to Clancy’s to get a drink. He’d put a hundred on the bar and tell everyone to have one with him. He wanted to see their faces. Especially Red and Hanson. He’d let them see a wad of notes so thick it would make their eyes bulge. He might even let them believe he really had won the lottery, but eventually he’d tell them the truth so they didn’t come around asking him for a loan to buy a new truck or something stupid like that, which he wouldn’t put past them.
The next thing he was going to do was buy Rachel something, maybe a new dress or a necklace or whatever. He’d take her out somewhere for dinner. Someplace where they had white tablecloths and champagne. She deserved it with everything she had to put up with over the last few years.
Sometimes Ellis was bewildered by the way things turned out in life. He remembered Rachel when they were at high school. She was a lot younger than him, and he never even spoke to her then. When he came back from the army she was seventeen, but he knew she was out of his league. She was pretty, and smart too. Ellis wasn’t exactly dumb, but school was never a big deal in his house. His old man was a drunk. He had a mean, vicious streak and when they were young, Ellis and his brother and kid sister would hear their dad slapping their mother around. At least that was something Ellis had never done.
It was probably the Army that saved him from turning out the same way. Apart from marrying Rachel, enlisting was the best thing he’d ever done. Before that his world was a narrow vision of drunken beatings, and if you grow up seeing that shit every day it’s going to rub off. The last year or two at high school he’d thrown his weight around, getting in fights because it seemed normal, or perhaps because he just liked the outlet the violence gave him because most of the time he was pissed off. If he wasn’t looking for trouble he was stoned. The Army had made him see he didn’t have to be like his old man. He learned self-respect. Enough to ask Rachel for a date when he got back. Jesus, he still remembered how knocked out he was when she accepted.
She said later that she didn’t even recognize him as the same Pete Ellis she knew at school. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. He wondered where the fuck it all went wrong. It came down to money. He couldn’t catch an even break these last few years. The lumber business had gone downhill, and he started drinking because it was the only way he could stop worrying enough to get any sleep. He guessed he really was a goddamn loser like his old man after all.
Ellis figured he had gone far enough. The light was already bad enough to make a good shot difficult, but it was now or never. He slung the rifle off his shoulder and headed towards the edge of the trees until he could get a view of the rock face about two hundred yards away. He found the fissure where the falcon had landed and moved his glasses over the rock. At first he couldn’t see anything, then he glimpsed a movement. It was standing there on a ledge. He raised the rifle and found the falcon through the sight. For a second he felt regret but he pushed it from his mind. He shifted his position and leaned against the tree to steady his aim.
***
Across the slope Michael peered up at the rock face and saw a movement high up. The hunter was already aiming his rifle. There was no time to think. He waved his arms and shouted. The falcon rose into the twilight, banking and rising on silent wings as a shot shattered the quiet air over the valley.
***
Ellis cursed. He raised the rifle again for another shot but it was too late, the falcon fled beyond his line of sight.
He dropped the barrel and looked to see what the hell had happened, and somebody was up there, across the slope. For an instant Ellis fought the impulse to turn his gun on whoever it was. The moment passed and he loosened his grip.
He shook his head in disbelief. He was jinxed, he had to be.
CHAPTER 8
From her bedroom window, Susan saw a light flash through the trees as a car came down the access road. Fixing an earring, she stood back to examine her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was wearing jeans and a loose woolen jersey that came to mid-thigh. Her hair, shining coppery hues, fell over her shoulders.
The overall look was casual, but not too casual. The way somebody might dress for dinner with a friend, as opposed to a date.
She turned out the light and went down the stairs, reaching the door before Coop knocked. He stood in the porch light, filling the space with his bulk. He was tall, with wide shoulders, his hair close-cropped, his skin weathered.
‘What have you got there?’ She indicated the package he carried in one hand.
‘It’s something for Jamie. It’s just a fishing reel, no big deal. The one he has is getting kind of old.’
‘Coop, you didn’t need to do that.’ She stood aside to let him in.
‘It’s no big deal,’ he repeated.
‘Let me have your coat. You can take that in to Jamie while I fetch you a beer. He’s watching TV with Wendy.’
She went through to the kitchen and popped the cap on a beer which she usually kept in the house for when Coop stopped by. She lingered for a minute. The kitchen was the heart of the house. A huge pine table occupied one half of the room where she and Jamie ate their meals, and where sometimes at night she sat to work or read. Large windows looked out toward the mountains and allowed the natural light to flood its open spaces, bouncing off the stainless steel refrigerator and the row of copper pans that hung above the range.
Through the glass doors that led into the TV room she saw Coop show Jamie the reel. Unaware that she was watching, Jamie’s expression remained impassive. They struck an awkward tableau. Instead of being excited, Jamie was reticent. He barely acknowledged the gift before turning back to the TV. If Coop was hurt by Jamie’s response he didn’t let on.
Susan took his beer through. ‘Hey that looks great,’ she said, trying to make up for her son’s poor grace. ‘What do you think, Jamie? I bet you can’t wait to try it out.’ She knew her enthusiasm sounded forced. Coop took his beer and pretended not to notice. ‘Did you thank Coop, Jamie?’
Jamie looked at her, and then to Coop, and kind of nodded. At best it was a token response, and his lack of gratitude made her angry though she held it in check because she understood there were deeper, complex emotions at play, things Jamie was too young to understand let alone control.
It was Wendy, a local girl who was babysitting, who broke the difficult silence. ‘So, where are you guys going tonight?’
Susan seized the opportunity gratefully. ‘Just the hotel, aren’t we, Coop?’
He nodded his agreement. ‘How’s your dad, Wendy?’
‘He’s okay.’
‘Everything okay at school?’
Wendy pulled a face. ‘I guess.’
Susan was eager to leave and went back to the kitchen. Coop followed, and put his empty beer on the bench. She apologized for Jamie, though she knew Coop understood how things were. ‘He’s just confused.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Perhaps I’m too soft with him. I ought to send him to his room for what he just did.’
‘He just misses his dad,’ Coop said simply.
She looked through the door at her son. It was more than that. Whatever Jamie was feeling it was complicated.
‘You look great, Su
san,’ Coop said.
She smiled. ‘Thanks,’ she said and then quickly put her glass in the sink to avoid the possibility of meeting his eye. She saw his frown reflected in the window.
***
The bar of the Valley Hotel was busy even for a Saturday night. George, the owner, was playing host that night. He scanned the tables.
‘Sorry, Coop but you might have to wait for a little while,’ he said.
‘That’s okay.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘There’s no hurry.’
They went to the bar and ordered drinks and people said hi to them. Everybody in town knew Coop. He’d been a cop there since he joined the department straight out of college, and after Dan Redgrave retired a few years back he’d been made up to Chief in charge of the department. As far as his career went that was the end of the line unless he chose to leave Little River, but Susan couldn’t ever see him doing that. He was comfortable with his place in the world. He was well liked and respected for his fairness, even if he sometimes applied his own interpretation to the letter of the law.
‘You know we’re going to be taking somebody’s table don’t you?’ Susan said when their drinks arrived.
He looked at her like he had no idea what she was talking about.
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