Manitou Canyon (16 page)

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S
heriff Marsha Dross had called early that morning with the only good news they'd heard in a while. The blood that had been found on Raspberry Island was definitely human, but didn't match Cork's type or Lindsay Harris's. Dross was headed into the Boundary Waters to work with Search and Rescue. She invited anyone who wanted to join them. But the O'Connors had a different idea for that day.

They gathered around the table in the kitchen of the house on Gooseberry Lane. Cork's children were there, as well as Daniel and Rainy. Rose had made breakfast for them all, and they'd eaten, and now they sat sharing their information and their thoughts.

“He started out as a geotechnical engineer and worked on dams all over the world. A dam he designed in Indonesia gave way during heavy rains in 1978. The resulting flood killed hundreds of people.”

Jenny was reporting what she'd discovered during her Internet search the night before.

“Harris claimed that his design hadn't been followed and also that there was graft involved in the project and construction materials weren't of the specified quality. The official report backed him up. Since then, he's personally overseen the construction of most of the dams he's built.”

“What about his family?” Daniel asked.

“I know we're all wondering about Trevor,” Jenny said. “But his sister is the one with the rap sheet.”

Rose saw astonishment on all their faces.

“When she was a student at Northland College, she was arrested during a protest against a proposed open-pit mining operation that would have devastated part of the Porcupine Mountains in Michigan.”

“The Penokee Mine,” Daniel said. “I remember it. Huge money involved, but a lot of Native and environmental groups banded together and the proposal was finally abandoned. That was only a year ago.”

“Got arrested, huh?” Stephen said. “I think I like this lady.”

“There's more to her to like,” Jenny said. “On her Facebook page, her relationship status is ‘committed.' To an Odawa guy she met during the mine protests.” She smiled at Daniel. “Smart woman.”

“What about Trevor?” Daniel asked.

“Attended Stanford for a while but got himself kicked out,” Jenny said.

“What for?”

“He set up a gambling ring on campus. Quite successful, apparently, until a number of parents complained about their kids' money going to pay debts instead of tuition. He moved to Las Vegas, which is where he lives now. His official occupation is entertainer-­slash-actor. He's been in lots of Vegas shows.”

“But it's clear from what we've seen that for him Vegas isn't really about the acting,” Rainy said. “He has a gambling addiction.”

“So maybe he's in need of money,” Jenny said. “And getting rid of Grandpa—and his sister—will give him quite an inheritance to feed his addiction.”

Daniel said, “If someone disappears, I'm pretty sure it's a long time before they can be declared legally dead. So Trevor has to be patient. My sense about addicts of any kind is that patience isn't one of their strong points.”

“Also, that assumes something beyond addiction,” Rainy said. “A cold, calculating, heartless individual. Trevor may have problems, but is he really that kind of man?”

Daniel said, “I don't have any problem assuming the worst about him. For me, the question is how he would accomplish the disappearance of his grandfather, his sister, and Cork. He'd need a lot of help in that. It would have to be someone who knows the territory, so someone local. How would he make that kind of connection?”

“And,” Jenny said, “if all this is calculated and everything he's told us is a lie, how did he know about Stephen and ‘monthterth under the bed'? Have you ever posted anything about that on Facebook, Stephen?”

“Are you kidding? I barely remember it. I was five.”

“Trevor came by that information somehow.”

Rose had been quiet, listening, trying to calm her spirit so that clarity of thought might prevail in her own mind. She offered, “What if it's a combination of many forces at work? Maybe Trevor Harris is weak, and someone has played on that weakness. As you've pointed out, if this is all part of some grand plan, he couldn't very well have accomplished it on his own. He'd need lots of help. Who would want to prey on his weakness?”

Rainy said, “That's pretty much what Uncle Henry said to me last night. Where does the wind blow from that bends this young man?”

“Someone who's after something that Lindsay or her grandfather have?” Stephen offered.

“More probably something that Lindsay
and
her grandfather have,” Daniel said. “Maybe they tried getting it from Harris and couldn't, so now they've gone after his granddaughter.”

“There's another possibility,” Rose said. “They've taken Lindsay in order to coerce her grandfather. You might be willing to do things you wouldn't otherwise do if it meant keeping someone you loved from harm.”

They digested that in silence, and Jenny nodded. “Of everything we've said, that makes the most sense.”

“But it doesn't get us any farther,” Daniel pointed out. “We're still in the dark about almost everything. Especially who's behind all this.”

“So what do we do now?” Jenny asked.

Daniel pulled a photograph from his shirt pocket and set it on the table.

Rose saw a young man standing beside a lake holding a big fish and grinning to beat the band. “Trevor?” she asked.

“That's him with the prize walleye he caught the day his grandfather went missing. I'm going to talk to Dwight Kohler, their guide,” Daniel said. “I'd like to know exactly what happened out there, the story behind how a guy who's never been to the Boundary Waters and almost never casts a line managed to land this. Forgive the pun, but there's something fishy in that story.”

“I'll go with you,” Rainy said.

“I want to go out to Crow Point,” Stephen said. “Since Trevor screwed up the sweat, I haven't had a chance to talk with Henry about this darkness I feel. I'd like to explore it more with him.”

Jenny finished her coffee. “I'm going to wake up Waaboo and get him ready for preschool.”

“You all go do what you have to do,” Rose said. “I'll clean up here.”

She saw them off, and when Jenny had gone upstairs, Rose took her cell phone from her purse and called her husband. Mal answered in the way she loved: “Hello, light of my life.”

“Oh, Mal, it's good to hear your voice.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Yours doesn't sound so good. What's up?”

She told him all that had occurred. He didn't interrupt.

“I can leave right away,” he offered.

“At this point, it wouldn't do any good. I just thought you'd want to know what's going on. For the time being, just keep us all in your prayers.”

Mal said, “There's one thing I hope everyone up there understands.”

“What's that?”

“This Lindsay Harris couldn't have a better man with her than Cork. If anyone can help her, he can.”

“I'll pass that along. It's a good piece of wisdom.”

“I'll keep everyone in my prayers. You take care of yourself, love.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

She ended the call and slipped the phone back into her purse. Then she sat among all the breakfast mess that needed to be dealt with and offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving. Until she was forty, she'd believed she would never know love, the kind that Mal offered her anyway. She thought of it as a great treasure she'd stumbled upon, a blessing never anticipated, and maybe that was the best kind. She also offered a prayer in gratitude for her sister's family, which she'd always been a part of. And finally she asked for the grace to accept whatever outcome God had in mind for them all. She might have gone on in her prayers—sometimes they lasted well beyond anything she'd intended—but a knock at the back door took her from her meditations.

She found Daniel's aunt Leah standing there, looking wild-eyed.

“Can I . . . can I come in?” the woman asked.

“Of course.” Rose brought her inside and took her coat, hung it, and led her to one of the empty chairs. “Can I get you something? Coffee maybe?”

The woman didn't answer. She stared at Rose with eyes hollowed into deep pits of fear. “I've seen something.”

Rose sat down and took Leah's hands. “What did you see?”

As if completely disoriented, she said, “I don't know. I don't understand it.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Oh, Rose, they're dead. Hundreds and hundreds of them. All dead.”

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P
akkala's Northwoods Outfitters occupied a two-story building in the center of Aurora. Both levels were filled with everything that someone intending to enjoy the great northern wilderness could possibly need—canoes and kayaks, tents, backpacks, clothing, shoes, dehydrated food, cooking utensils, stoves, fishing gear, mosquito netting, insect repellent. They sold books and games and other diversions for rainy days in the great Northwoods. They also offered guide service into the Boundary Waters.

When Daniel and Rainy entered the outfitters, Walt Pakkala, the family patriarch, came to greet them himself and offer his sympathy.

“Christ,” he said, shaking his head. He was a big man with a ruddy face and a full beard, and he spoke with the accent of an old Finn in the North Country. “Cork's de last man I'd expect to go missin' out der. We been hearin' stuff. Not good. So what's really happenin'?”

“We don't know, Walt,” Daniel said. “That's why we're here. We'd like to talk to Dwight, if he's around.”

“Sure. In back doin' some inventory. I'll get him.”

Pakkala vanished and returned with Dwight Kohler in tow. He was a tall kid, twenty years old, willowy, strong, with coal-black hair and the black shadow of a beard several days old. His eyes were piercing blue and innocent. He wore a green hoodie sweatshirt with
BOUNDARY WATERS
printed in white across the front. When not working for Walt Pakkala, he attended Aurora
Community College, where he took mostly photography classes. Rainy thought his work was pretty good, and a lot of his framed photos were on sale at the outfitters.

“Hey, Rainy. Hey, Daniel,” he said by way of greeting. “What's up?”

“Morning, Dwight. You've heard about Cork, right? And Lindsay Harris?”

“It's all anybody's talking about this morning. Jesus, I'm sorry. It's so weird, you know. Just like John Harris.”

“That's what we want to talk to you about. Walt, can we go somewhere with Dwight to talk?”

“Sure. Have some coffee on me, and grab a table. I got work to do, but you folks take your time. Give 'em whatever dey need, Dwight.”

Pakkala's had a little coffee shop in one corner of the store that served up the best kolaches Rainy had ever tasted. They sat and drank coffee, and Daniel said, “We're rethinking the disappearance of John Harris.”

“Duh,” Dwight said. “I'm kicking myself now. Jesus, I'm thinking, what did I miss out there?”

“That's what we'd like to figure out, if we can. We believe somebody kidnapped Harris, and now those same people have taken Cork and Harris's granddaughter. They knew the family would be out there, and they knew Cork was going back with Lindsay.”

“Like for ransom or something?”

“There's been no note, so we're thinking something else is going on.”

“Like what?”

“We're working on that. Let me show you something.” From his pocket, Daniel pulled the photograph of Trevor Harris with his prize walleye. He laid it on the table. “Tell me about this.”

“Not much to tell. Trevor and his granddad took off to fish. Trevor came back with that walleye and his granddad never did come back. End of story.”

“They went different directions on the lake, right?”

“Raspberry's horseshoe-shaped, you know. Trevor went down the east side, his granddad went west.”

“It was some kind of contest, wasn't it?”

“Yeah. Crazy. A thousand dollars.”

“Whose idea was that?”

“Trevor's. But I kind of got it. The old man, he was on that guy's case the whole time.”

“About what?”

“You know, being more responsible, growing up, doing manly things. It was the kind of crap you'd give a teenager, not a full-grown adult.”

“Who decided where they'd fish?”

Dwight thought about that a moment. “Seems to me it was Trevor chose first.”

“Did he know anything about fishing?”

“Knew what a rod and reel were but not much beyond that. Surprised the hell out of me when he came back with that fish.”

“Didn't it seem suspicious to you?”

“Suspicious? Not then. Just damn lucky.”

Rainy said, “What was Lindsay doing this whole time?”

“Hanging out with me. Shooting the breeze, you know. She didn't have anything to prove. It was clear from the get-go she knew how to handle herself in the woods. Her granddad and her got along pretty well. Not like with Trevor.”

“Did you see anyone else on Raspberry Lake while you were there?”

“Nobody. It's not a place many go, particularly that late in the season.”

“Did anyone get any cell phone calls out there?”

“On Raspberry? Are you kidding? Sat phones are about the only things'll connect out there.”

“How long were you on the lake before Harris disappeared?”

“We arrived the evening before. Had just enough time to set up camp, then dark was on us.”

“What was the plan going in?”

“Three nights on Raspberry, then out. Quick trip.”

“Who decided on Raspberry?”

“Don't know. It was already chosen when they hired me. I liked the idea though, because it's not somewhere I get to often. I figured we had a good chance of having the lake to ourselves. And I love Raspberry Island. A great view from the top of that palisade. I thought I might be able to take some nice shots from up there.”

“Did you?”

“Nope. Harris went missing before I had a chance.”

“About that fish. Do you have any idea what Trevor was using on the end of his line?”

“I sure do. I mean, when he came back with that walleye I was, like, astounded. He told me he used a Husky Jerk.”

“Interesting,” Daniel said. “When I asked him last night, he couldn't remember.”

“Before he caught that fish, if you'd asked me, I would've said he'd be lucky not to hook his own ass.”

“Did you like him?”

“Felt sorry for him mostly. I mean, he was really out of his element there. It was clear he was uncomfortable and his granddad was riding him and all. He wasn't obnoxious or anything, like I sometimes get.” His face drew together in a sudden thought. “But you know, I did have the feeling that he was watching for something. I didn't think a lot about it then, but now, with the way everything stands, who knows?”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “Who knows?”

Rainy's cell phone purred and she answered.

“Rainy, it's Rose. Can you come back to our place? Leah Duling is here, and I think you need to talk to her. She's had an experience, seen something you need to hear about.”

“All right. Thanks, Rose.” She put away her phone. “We need to get back to Gooseberry Lane. Thank you, Dwight.”

“Wish I could tell you more.”

“You've been really helpful,” she assured him.

As they left Pakkala's, Daniel said, “What's up with Rose?”

“Aunt Leah's at the house. Apparently, she's seen something.”

“The light?”

“We can only hope,” Rainy said.

“Well, I think we know a bit more now.”

“What do we know?”

“That big fish. If I were a betting man, I'd bet Trevor Harris had no part in catching that walleye. Someone supplied it.”

“Who?”

“No idea. But I'm pretty sure of the why. An alibi. How could Trevor have had anything to do with his grandfather's disappearance if he was out on the other side of the lake catching a prize walleye?”

When they arrived, Jenny opened the door to them. She didn't say anything, simply nodded toward the kitchen table, where Rose sat with Aunt Leah, who hugged herself as if she were cold or maybe scared. Rainy and Daniel hung their coats and sat down with the women at the table.

“Are you all right, Aunt Leah?”

She looked at Rainy, mystified. “I've never experienced anything like it.”

“What happened?”

“I saw something. Something that wasn't there.”

“Something you dreamed?”

“I wasn't asleep, Rainy. That's the thing. I wasn't asleep. I was in my hotel room, fixing my morning coffee. It came to me. Just came. Lucius would have said like the light that struck Saul blind.”

“Can you tell us about it?” Rainy said gently.

“It didn't make any sense. But there was such a feel of great destruction about it.”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“I just stood there, looking at nothing for the longest time. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.”

“Fine, Aunt Leah,” Rainy said, trying to be patient. “But can you get to what you saw?”

She stared at Rainy, then looked to Jenny and Daniel and finally Rose. Her eyes were huge, her face pale. “It was all under a charcoal sky,” she began. “I stood on a cliff somewhere. I didn't
recognize it. A great clap of thunder came and scared me. The air was full of white. Snow, I don't know, or maybe it was ash. And that's when I heard the screams. Terrible screams coming from below me. When I looked down, as far as I could see there was nothing but fish, flopping around on the ground. The screams were their screams. But they weren't just fish. They were fish with human heads, human faces, human voices. And they were dying. All of them dying. It was all so real, so very real.” She reached out suddenly and grasped Rainy's arm. “Am I going crazy?”

In that desperate grip, Rainy felt the woman's terror, felt it as if it were her own. She spoke with great compassion. “I don't think you're crazy, Aunt Leah. This really sounds to me like a vision.”

“I don't believe in visions. Not this kind. Not coming to me. Why me? And why so terrible?”

“I don't know, Aunt Leah.”

“I don't want this vision.”

“Yet there it is,” Rainy said gently. “And you've asked a good question. Why was it given to you?”

“Given? Like a gift? It's no gift. It feels like a violation.” She took Rainy's hands in her own. “Help me.”

“I'll try. But I'd like to do this in my way. Will you trust me?”

It was a simple question, but the woman took a long time to answer. “All right.”

“We're going to Crow Point. We're going to do a sweat.”

“Not with Henry,” Aunt Leah gasped.

“Not if you don't want. We'll do the sweat together, just you and me.”

Rainy watched her aunt's face move through several emotions and finally arrive at acceptance.

“Good,” Rainy said. “Daniel, mind taking us in your truck?”

“No problem.”

“Will you come, too?” Leah pleaded to Rose. “You've been so kind.”

Rose glanced at Rainy, who gave a nod.

“If it will help you, Leah, then of course,” Rose said.