Cold (22 page)

Del leaned forward slightly and spoke quietly.
 
“So a man stayed in room twelve last night, and he didn’t pay—why?”

Woo-San’s watery eyes had what appeared to be an ancient weariness.
 
His voice was so deep it seemed to come straight from the center of his chest.
 
“Why you think?
 
This what you call no brainer.”

•

Warren sat in a booth by the window in Jacques’ Diner, watching Pronovost walk back across the motel parking lot to his truck.
 
The son of a bitch was pissed off about something—it was evident in his strut, in the hunch of his shoulders.
 
He was like those animals in the nature shows, the birds and reptiles that puff themselves up whenever they feel threatened.
 
They raise hackles, fins, any number of appendages specifically designed to make them look bigger.
 
Some have false eyes and mouths, always larger than the real ones, which are intended to deceive a predator into thinking they’re capable of warding off an attack.
 
Some emit a scent or a spray.
 
Some, if bitten, are poisonous, stunning the attacker, which is then devoured.
 
Or, in some cases, such as a spider and a wasp, the attacker becomes the host for the offspring of the prey.
 
Noel watched all those animal programs, read about them in magazines.
 
She was a taxidermist’s daughter, so after years of watching her father stuff animals, she had developed an interest in live ones.
 
Warren often told her she missed the point of those shows:
 
animals eat each other, and human beings are animals too.
 
That’s how nature works.

Warren watched the other man, who wore a big green coat, come out of the motel office and follow Pronovost.
 
He was taller, a bit younger, seemed more agile.
 
Something about his posture suggested that he was not intimidated by Pronovost’s display of anger.
 
Probably had to do with that Chinaman, who worked the desk most days.
 
Things between Warren and Pronovost had gone sour since Woo-San had come to town.
 
It was a different game now.
 
As he crossed the parking lot, Pronovost waved his arms as he spoke, but it was clear that Green Coat was taking control.
 
He kept his hands in his pockets, and Pronovost finally nodded agreement.

Warren pushed away his breakfast plate.
 
Smeared egg yoke, leftover hash browns, a crust of toast.
 
Leah came over to his booth and picked up the plate.

“You don’t look so good, honey,” she said.
 
“That bruise must be sore.”

He leaned back and lit a cigarette.
 
“It’s not the bruise.”

When she waited tables she always wore her blond hair up.
 
It reminded him of Noel, how she’d put her hair up before taking a bath, revealing the curve of her neck, the little hollow above the collarbone.

Leah took her free hand off her hip, wiped it on her apron, and removed the cigarette from his lips.
 
“You ought to just take it easy today.
 
Go back to Bobby’s and lie down.”
 
She drew on his cigarette deeply, exhaled.
 
“Get yourself a bit of a buzz going, and I’ll be back by two.
 
Maybe we could play doctor?”
 
She held the cigarette out to him, and scowled.
 
“You think too much sometimes.
 
I can see it in those deep eyes in your lumpy head.”

He took the cigarette back from her.
 
“Really?”
 
She nodded.
 
“And what am I thinking about right now?”

Leah glanced down at his crotch.
 
“You getting a morning hard on, honey?”

“Yeah, and it’s all for you.”

She opened her mouth and let him see a little tongue.
 
“Naa.
 
I don’t think so.”

“No?
 
Who else would it be for?”

“The guy gave you that swollen cheek,” she said.
 
“You’re thinking revenge.”

Warren drew on his cigarette and then he smiled at her, exhaling.
 
“You’re a very perceptive woman.
 
And you have a nice ass too.
 
That’s a lethal combination.”

Leah smiled, turned and carried his empty plate back to the kitchen.
 
Her apron was snug on her hips.
 
Half a dozen men sat on stools along the counter, eating, drinking coffee, and each head turned to watch her walk down to the kitchen and push through the swinging door.
 
Chain reaction.

Across the street Pronovost and Green Coat were now getting into the truck.
 
No waving arms now, just earnest discussion.
 
Probably negotiating some real estate deal.
 
Maybe sell Green Coat a share of the motel.
 
Or better, hire Green Coat to knock down the motel and build apartments.
 
Better still, condominiums.
 
Condos in North Eicher—right.
 
Warren had heard Pronovost’s spiel.
 
The man believed he could buy, sell or trade anything.
 
He’d bought into Pronovost’s bullshit when he first became his son-in-law.
 
But the bullshit changed, and then Pronovost pulled away.
 
He no longer needed Warren’s help with his rental properties; and last fall during deer season he stopped bringing hunting parties out to Big Pine Lodge.
 
Woo-San’s arrival in town had something to do with it.
 
The guy just shows up and all of a sudden he’s working at the motel, and he’s the caretaker out at the lodge.
 
When Warren was stationed in San Diego, he’d met some Asians.
 
Some of them born over there; some on the West Coast.
 
Why Woo-San ended up in North Eicher, Warren wasn’t sure, though he suspected it was for more than a piece of that shitass little motel.
 
It had to do with the thing he and Pronovost had in common—not just greed, but absolute greed.
 
You had to admire the purity of it.

•

As Pronovost drove the few blocks back to his house, Del listened to him work his tongue over his teeth, as though he were trying to dislodge food.
 
After shouting in the parking lot, the man now seemed contrite though even more anxious.
 
“You don’t know for certain that it was Norman who stayed in room twelve.”

“I can’t be certain of anything.
 
He was last known to be traveling in this direction in a brown Dodge registered to Rodney Aaberg.
 
It’s just a possibility:
 
Norman came here and he left with Noel and the girl.”

“Abducted,” Pronovost said, as he pulled into his driveway behind Del’s Land Cruiser.
 
“They didn’t
leave,
he’s
abducted
her.
 
Them:
 
my daughter and granddaughter.”
 
He shut off the motor but made no move to get out.

“It’s the child that I don’t get,” Del said.
 
“You’re asleep when Noel comes into the house, puts her daughter in her snowsuit and leaves.
 
What, does Norman come in the house with her?
 
How’s he persuade her?
 
And you said she drives a Trooper?
 
If they left in the van, her Trooper should have still been there at the motel.”

“He must have been with her when she picked up Lorraine,” Pronovost said.

“Don’t know how, is all.
 
It just seems pretty risky, Norman coming in the house, knowing you’re there.
 
How can he be sure you’re asleep, that you won’t wake up?”

“I bet he’s armed.”

Del considered this a moment.
 
“Where’s Norman get a gun?” he asked.
 
“But then, let’s give him credit—he’s gotten this far.
 
He’s walked away from prison.
 
Snowshoed through a blizzard.
 
Ridden in an eighteen wheeler, stolen a van, and now, well it’s also possible, I guess, that he’s in your daughter’s Trooper.”
 
Del pulled on his gloves.
 
“Maybe he’s quick, lucky—and persuasive.
 
That’s a tough combination.”

Pronovost reached for his door handle, but paused.
 
“You’re not suggesting she went with him
willingly.”

Del shook his head.
 
“All I know is they could be together.
 
Let’s say it’s more than possible—it’s probable.
 
Why else would he be headed in this direction?”
 
He opened his door, admitting a blast of cold air, and got out.
 
“I’m going to make a call from my phone,” he said.

“Come inside and call.
 
Get out of this wind.”
 

They went up the driveway and into his workshop
.
 
He glanced up at the forest of antlers overhead.
 
There was a phone on the wall at the end of a long bench covered with tools.
 
Del called Monty and said, “Anything?”

“Still nothing.”

“My guess is that Haas isn’t traveling alone now,” Del said.
 
“He’s with his old girlfriend and her baby.
 
They’re either in the Dodge van or her Isuzu Trooper, Michigan registration under the name of Noel Pronovost.
 
She’s blond and the kid’s about three, a girl named Lorraine.”

“I’ll call the staties.”
 
Monty was silent a moment.
 
“This the same girlfriend that got beat up?”

“Right.
 
And I’m not convinced he’s dragging her along by the hair.”

“That’s interesting.
 
Must be real love.”

“Maybe,” Del said.
 
At the far end of the bench Pronovost was sharpening a knife, the sound of the steel on the stone precise and crisp.
 

“You think they could get through customs, the three of them?” Monty asked.

“Possible.”

“I doubt it,” Monty said.
 
“They’re checking everybody closely, and he can’t hide in the trunk because a Trooper doesn’t have one.
 
But this weather chances are they haven’t even
reached
the Soo yet.
 
When they get there the staties’ll pick them up.”

“I suppose,” Del said.

“You know you almost sound like you’re rooting for this kid.”

Del thought about how Liesl sounded when she was still in the hospital.
 
In a way she was almost pleading that this escapee that left her for dead in the snow be saved.
 
After a moment, he said, “Just call the state police, okay?”

He hung up and walked down to where Pronovost was mixing some chemicals in a plastic cup.
 
Before him was the head of a buck with a ten-point rack.
 
The eyes looked real except that they didn’t move.

Pronovost seemed to have found new resolve.
 
“Let’s suppose, just for discussion’s sake, it’s not exactly an abduction.”

“Do you think that’s possible?”

“My daughter’s a woman.
 
How the fuck am I supposed to know why she does what she does?
 
I’m trying to think this through, is all.”

“The Soo is at least four hours from here in good weather.
 
Or they could go west, through Duluth, and head up into the Boundary Waters region.
 
You can get real lost in there.
 
But they may have gotten stuck or the road may not be plowed all the way.
 
If they try to cross the border, they’ll be picked up most likely.”

On the far wall there was the upper torso of a black bear.
 
Its arms were raised as though prepared to claw a victim and its jaws were wide open, revealing false teeth and tongue.
 
The head and protruding snout were huge, and the eyes possessed a fierce certainty.
 
Below was a plaque, an award from a national competition.
 
It reminded Del of the awards on Liesl’s wall, one for an eagle she’d done.
 
Taxidermy and sculpture—both came from the same impulse, which was to preserve the image of the animal.

In the corner was a small color photograph of a woman, smiling and buck naked.

“Nice, huh?” Pronovost said.
 
“Some years ago I get a call from a guy downstate.
 
Says he read about my work and he had a once-in-a-lifetime job for me that would pay well, if I did it right away.
 
I told him I had enough work to keep me busy at least a year.
 
But he insists it’s got to be right now.
 
I say, what is it, fish or fowl.
 
He says he’ll FedEx me a photo then call.
 
Next morning that picture is delivered, and I think it’s a joke, but he calls up not an hour later and asks will I do it?
 
The day before his thirty-two-year-old wife was killed in a car accident.
 
So he offered me ten thousand dollars to do the job.”
 
Pronovost took a moment to light a cigarette.
 
He’d told this story before and knew the pause was part of the effect.
 
Exhaling, he said, “I told him I don’t mount women for money.
 
So he offered me fifteen.”
 
Leaning over the deer head on the bench, he seemed so preoccupied as though he were alone.