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Authors: John Smolens

Cold (28 page)

BOOK: Cold
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Del put down his sandwich.

“How’s the whitefish?”

“Fine.”

“The venison usually isn’t this dry.”
 
Warren stood up and went to the men’s room.

Del balled up his napkin and dropped it on his plate.
 
He paid the bill at the bar, went outside and climbed into his Land Cruiser.
 
He got out his cellular phone and punched in Liesl’s number, but disconnected before her phone rang.
 
Though it was only about eight-thirty, she might be asleep, and he didn’t want to wake her.

That wasn’t it, not really.
 
He felt soiled listening to Warren Haas.
 

He kept thinking about how she held his hand.
 
Something so simple, but it was everything.
 
It was enough.
 
It was all he needed to know.
 
It was all he needed from her.
 
He understood that it wasn’t just affection, but much more.
 
It frightened him a bit, but he liked how it felt—as though he were carrying something inside, something that he’d not had or known for a very long time.
 
He didn’t believe it was possible any more—and that’s what seemed so strange, this felt like it was there all the time, but it only revealed itself now.
 
He recognized it right away, and he knew that Liesl did too.
 
He wouldn’t call her now.
 
They both first had to get used to it on their own.

 


 

After Noel put Lorraine to bed she went into the kitchen and, using towels to protect her hands, carried the first of three large pots of hot water from the stove to the bathroom.
 
While Norman had been out in the woods she had gone out the kitchen door and filled the pots with snow, and then put them on the stove to melt them down.
 
As she poured the hot water into the claw foot tub, Norman brought in the second pot and placed it on the floor; then he went back to the kitchen.
 
She had been anticipating this since they had arrived—the moment when the snow would become bathwater.

When he returned with the third pot, she said, “Want to join me?”

He poured the steaming water into the tub and didn’t look at her.

“With the two of us in the tub the water will be high enough for a decent bath.”
 
She sat on the edge of the tub, pulled her sweater over her head and began unbuttoning her blouse.
 
Norman looked away, embarrassed. “It’s all right,” she said.
 
“It’s just me.”
 
She removed her bra, then her socks, jeans and long johns.

If anything he seemed more embarrassed.
 
“You rarely see a woman in prison,” he said.
 
“They work in the kitchen, places like that, and they’re always these older women.
 
Some of them pretty ugly.”

“Hot,”
she said as she eased herself into the tub.

“There were some real queens in there.
 
At night you’d hear bedsprings, guys moaning and shit.
 
Told you, I never got raped or anything.
 
I had a friend though, Bing.”

“Is this like a relationship that should, you know, make me jealous?”

Norman scratched his ear.
 
“No, I wouldn’t say that.”

“So, you left him behind when you walked away.
 
That must be hard—”

“He got out before I did.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Norman, I don’t care.
 
I just want you to get in this bath with me.
 
Please.”

After a moment he began to undress.
 
She watched him, but he wouldn’t turn his head toward her.
 
He came to the tub and got in facing her.
 
“Holy shit.”

“You get used to it.”
 
She smiled.
 
His wet legs touched hers.
 
“We said we wanted to go back to before all this, but it’s not easy.
 
There’s a lot to get through.
 
I think I’ve been looking for a man to take me away for a long time, and now it turns out to be you.
 
I never imagined.”

Norman seemed deep in thought.
 
Reaching down through the water he placed his hand on her pubic hair.
 
She slid lower in the tub so she was closer to him and his fingers went between her legs.
 
She held her breath as they carefully opened her up.

“This isn’t at all like before,” he said.

“No, it isn’t.”
 
She exhaled slowly.

“We aren’t like before.”

She took hold of him under the water.
 
“I’m afraid to move,” she said.

“Then don’t.”

His fingers pressed into her and she thought she might slip completely under the water.

“Oh, Jesus.
 
I’m going to, Norman.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, Jesus.
 
Wait.
 
Wait.”
 
She closed her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

They didn’t move and the hot water around her was absolutely still.

She opened her eyes when she felt him go tense.
 
They resembled egg whites swimming up to the surface of the water.
 
She watched them as long as she could, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes, the water now lapping against her chin.

 


 

When Warren got in the Land Cruiser, they continued north.

“Yellow Dog Township will survive without Constable Del Maki?”

“Somehow,” Maki said.
 
“Today there was a near fight at the local repair shop.”

As they passed the casino on the left, Warren saw it:
 
Pronovost’s Ford pickup, parked in the back of the lot.
 
The constable didn’t notice.
 
He was still talking about snowblowers.
 
“Half the town owns Ariens,” he said, glancing toward Warren, “and the other half owns Toro.
 
Its like Republican and Democrat.”

“Which do you drive?”

“I don’t.
 
I get plowed by the town.
 
One of the perks of the job.”

Warren turned toward the sheriff and smiled.

“And on the front walk I use a snow scoop.”
 
They reached the edge of town, and Maki switched on his high beams as they reentered the darkness.

Out of the corner of his eye Warren could see headlights well behind them.
 
He assumed that Pronovost would not be alone, that he would have Woo-San with him.
 
They would be armed.
 
He decided not to tell the constable that they were being followed.
 
It was more important that they find Norman, Noel and the girl.
 
“A snow scoop?” he said.
 
“Mister, you’re a real traditionalist.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

thirteen

 
 

After they got out of the bathtub, they toweled each other off slowly.
 
It became difficult to stand.
 
They lay on the shag rug on the bathroom floor and Noel knelt above Norman, her legs straddling his head.
 
He took hold of her hips and pulled her down to his mouth, while he felt her warm breath on him.
 
Having come so quickly in the bathtub, they were now slow and methodical, until she turned around and came down on him.
 
He held her breasts, her nipples large after so long in the hot water.
 
Periodically she brought them down to his mouth.
 
Then she got on her feet so that she was squatting over him, and she rose and fell on him, dictating the force and rhythm of his entry.
 
With each descent it was as though she were trying to receive him deeper.
  
She stared back at him through the damp hair that fell about her face.
 
Her expression revealed only the work, the concentration, the physical effort involved.
 
He understood that this was her only sense of escape, these moments when she was engaged in nothing other than the labor of achieving an orgasm.
 
He didn’t know that before, and he should have—but he knew that now.
 
And he also knew that the pills she took had created a kind of protective membrane—she could envelop herself in there.
 
Her days held no relief, little hope.
 
He could see that in her eyes the moment he had walked into the motel office.
 
They said
I’m buried way deep in here and maybe you can still come inside far enough and reach me.
 
Now, as she moved above him, a groan was forced out of her with each descent, each sounding like a greater plea for mercy.

 


 

The narrow road rose and fell through tight turns.
 
Del kept his speed to about twenty-five, mostly in second gear, and he never touched the brake on turns.
 
Occasionally they’d emerge from black woods and cross a field of blue snow beneath the full moon.
 
But mostly the road was walled in by dense forest, with stretches where overhead branches formed an intricate canopy.
 
There were absolutely no other lights in this landscape.

“We’ve got to be nearing Lake Superior,” he said.
 
“How much farther?”

Warren Haas had emptied his bottle of schnapps and a couple of times he appeared to have dozed off.
 
“Not far now,” he said.

“What’re we looking for?”

“A lodge on a ridge that overlooks a little river that’s not much more than a creek.”

“This is Pronovost’s land?”

“His haven.
 
During hunting and fishing season he brings customers in wearing Orvis pants with deep pockets.
 
Very exclusive.
 
When I worked for him I was out here a lot, but nobody comes out here in winter.
 
I think he now wants to get it so exclusive that no one really sets foot in his domain.”

“What happened between you and Pronovost?”

Warren snorted.
 
“Has to do with who Pronovost is, who I am, and I suppose the fact that I’ve been married to his daughter.
 
For a while I thought we had a good business relationship.
 
But his long-range plans have changed and I’m not part of them.
 
That’s the way Pronovost is—look, can I tell you something?”
 
Del nodded.
 
“There’s no love lost between my brother and me, but he’s still my brother.
 
He’s received the raw end of things and it’s not all his fault.”

“What things?”

“Things that happened up here at Big Pine that sent him to prison.”

“What did happen?”

Warren took out his pack of cigarettes.
 
“Don’t worry I won’t light it.
 
I just want to feel it in my hand, know it’s there.
 
You know what I mean?
 
Like you said, you still tap the ash off the end of a pencil now and then.
 
You want one too?”

“No.”

Warren placed a cigarette in his mouth and pretended to take a puff and exhale.
 
“What’s important here is that we find him and Noel and the kid before anyone else does.
 
I owe Norman that much.
 
You take him back where he belongs.”

“What about Noel and the girl?”
 
Warren didn’t answer.
 
“You think doing this is going to make her want you back?
 
Sounds like she may have come up here with him willingly.”

“After you get Norman back to prison, maybe she’ll see things my way.”

“What was this raw deal your brother got?”

“He brought it on himself, but I’m not sure he deserved it.”

“You mean his time in prison.”

“I mean he got a raw deal, and I think he believes he can change things by coming out here.
 
You know, like proving that he shouldn’t have gone to prison in the first place.”

“Shouldn’t he have?”
 
Warren’s head was turned toward his side window.
 
“What’s he going to prove out here?
 
His innocence?”

Warren laughed.
 
“You are the small town constable.
 
Nobody’s innocent here.”
 
He zipped up his coat so that the raised collar came right to his jaw.
 
“Nobody’s fucking innocent.”

 


 

 
“It’s so strange,” Noel said, lying back on the shag rug, still trying to catch her breath.
 
“You hardly make a sound now.”

BOOK: Cold
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