Die a Stranger (34 page)

I looked for the bottle of Jim Beam. Then I remembered it was empty. It was the bottle Vinnie and I had killed that night, not that long ago. The same night he got the call to come pick up Buck at the airport.

“I only have cheap stuff,” I said. “I think somebody gave me this a long time ago. It’s not even open.”

“Sounds perfect.”

He sat at the table, looking at nothing. I made the drink and put in a few ice cubes. I put it down in front of him and he took a long swallow. The room was dark except for the one light on over the sink. The way the light hit him, it picked up all of the old scars on his face, along with all of the new damage. He looked old and tired.

“It was the best of times,” he said. “It was the worst of times.”

“Lou, what are you talking about? What’s wrong?”

He took another drink.

“When I was growing up here,” he said, “there was this old Ojibwa story I heard, and there’s a couple different variations to it, but the basic idea is this. A boy is living with his grandmother, who’s very old. Before she dies, she says to him, ‘You’re going to be all alone now, but before long a stranger is going to come to you. I want you to do whatever he says.’ Then she dies.”

He tipped the glass again. Then he went on.

“A few days later, a stranger comes to the village. And he says, ‘Who is the best man among you?’ The elders gather to talk about it, then they send the boy to the stranger. The boy has a meal with the stranger, and finally the stranger tells him why he has come to the village. He tells him that he was sent there by the Creator to test him, to see if he and his people are worthy. The boy asks him what the test is and the stranger says they have to fight each other. If the boy wins, he lives. If he loses, he dies.”

He stopped again. He didn’t take another drink. He looked at the glass for a long moment before continuing.

“The boy agrees to the test. So he and the stranger go outside to a clearing in the forest and they begin to fight. All night long they fight, until they are both so tired they can’t continue. They both sleep during the day, until it is time to get up and eat, and regain their strength. They have their meal together, then they go back to the clearing to fight again. A great battle, back and forth, neither one of them gaining the upper hand. Until once again they are too tired to continue. They sleep through the day, until it’s time to get up and eat together. Then, once more, they fight.”

I watched him as he told me the story. It felt like the whole world was slipping away and it was just Lou and me, here in my cabin, surrounded by nothing but darkness outside.

“This time, as they fight, the boy hits him with a club. The stranger finally goes down to his knees. The boy plunges a knife into the stranger’s back. The stranger is dead. He has killed him. But he isn’t happy about it. The stranger has fought so well, and the boy has spent all of this time with him and he has learned so much about himself. He weeps for the stranger and he carries him to the graveyard and buries him next to his grandmother. He visits the grave every day, looking after it the same way he looks after his grandmother’s grave. Then one day, on the first day of spring, the boy finds a plant growing on the stranger’s grave. He doesn’t know what it is, but he tends to it all that spring and summer, until it is even taller than he is. In the fall, when he finally decides to open up the leaves on this plant, he finds yellow kernels. He tastes them and they are sweet. This is how the people were given corn. Through the death of this stranger.”

He looked up at me, finally, his eyes wet. I wasn’t sure what to say to him.

“You told me everything that happened on that boat with Corvo,” he said. “Every detail, and I appreciate it. I know it was probably the scariest thing you ever lived through, but you trusted me enough to share it with me.”

“Lou, wait, how do you go from that story to—”

“The funny thing is, Alex, when he wanted to know what your name was, he took out your driver’s license and he looked at it. You remember telling me that?”

“Yes…”

My wallet was right there on the table, next to my watch. He picked it up now, exactly as Corvo had done. He opened it and looked at my driver’s license.

“It makes sense, right? He’s a smart guy. He knows your driver’s license wouldn’t lie.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following any of this.”

“Do you want to know what my driver’s license says?”

I just looked at him. I didn’t answer.

“It says the same thing yours does. My full name. Louis. Vincent. LeBlanc.”

“I still don’t follow you.”

“My first name is Louis,” he said. “But nobody ever calls me that. Ever. I go by my middle name instead. Everybody I know. Everybody. They all call me Vinnie.”

I shook my head. I still wasn’t getting it. I was inches away, but still not there yet.

He put my wallet back down. He had taken something from it. Not my driver’s license. No, he had taken the card that Corvo had given to me. The card with the phone number.

“What are you doing with that?” I said. “Lou, come on.”

Still calling him Lou. Because I knew that was his name. Even the old-timers here on the rez called him Lou. He’d been Lou all his life. This whole strange business about everybody calling him Vinnie …

“No,” I said, feeling an icy wave wash over me. “You can’t be serious.”

“He’s never met me, Alex. He’ll never know the difference.”

“This is crazy. You know what Corvo will do to you. He won’t just kill you.”

“I’m not afraid of him. Besides, I’ve done enough bad things in my life. I keep telling people I’ve repaid my debts, but I can’t tell that same lie to you. I know I’ve caused a lot more pain than I’ve ever had to feel myself. A lot more by a long shot.”

“No,” I said. “Stop it. Just stop talking like this. Even if it wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, it still wouldn’t even work anyway. That maniac won’t be satisfied if it’s just some guy named Vinnie who shows up. It was Buck who…”

I couldn’t say one more word. I stood up.

“Alex, don’t.”

I pushed past him. I went outside and threw open the driver’s-side door of his rental car.

“Where is he? Where’s Buck?”

I threw open the backseat door. There was nobody inside. Lou came up behind me.

“He was a dead man anyway,” Lou said. “I did him a big favor. Corvo won’t be happy about it, but what’s he gonna do to me that he wasn’t gonna do already?”

I grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Where is he?” I said. “God damn you, where is Buck?”

He didn’t fight back. He just looked at me with a cold and perfect serenity in his eyes.

I looked back at the car. My heart stopped as it hit me. I pushed him away. Then I went to the driver’s seat and fumbled around for the trunk release, finally found the button, and pushed it. The trunk popped open and I went around to the back. Buck was inside. I couldn’t process the fact that he was wearing a bathing suit. I couldn’t process the fact that his body was wet. I put my fingers to his neck. Then something hit me in the back of the neck and I was down on the ground, looking at the undercarriage of the car.

“He drowned in his hot tub,” Lou said, his voice close to my ear. “It was quick and it was painless. Now the two of us are going to Chicago and you’re not going to try to stop us.”

It felt like my whole body was paralyzed. I didn’t know what he hit me with. To this day, I still don’t know. Maybe just his hand. Maybe he was that good.

“You’ll think about calling the police. Or coming after us. But then you’ll realize. You can’t save Buck. He’s already gone. But you
can
save Vinnie. If this works, he’s free. Forever.”

Move your body, I said to myself. Get up and stop this madness.

“Just to be sure, you gotta watch over him, Alex? Okay? Do you hear me? Watch over Vinnie or I swear to God, I’ll come back from the other side and haunt you.”

I saw his shoes as he went around to the driver’s seat and got in. The car started up, sending a sick plume of exhaust right into my face. I reached out to grab the bumper. To stop the car or to make him drag me all the way down the road. But the car pulled away from me and I could only watch the taillights disappear around the bend in the road. The car passed Vinnie’s cabin, and then it was gone.

I stayed on the ground for a long time. If it had been winter, I surely would have frozen to death. Vinnie would have found my body the next morning.

But it was summer. The end of July. It was the middle of the night and it was cold, but not deadly cold. I felt the strength flowing back into my body. I pulled myself to my knees. Then finally to my feet. I stood there thinking about every word he had said. His prediction about what I would do now.

He was right.

God damn him, he was right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Summer ended. The warm days disappeared and I saw the first flakes of snow carried by the wind on a cold afternoon in early September. A doctor in Sault Ste. Marie took the stitches out of my face, and he told me that unless I had some plastic surgery, I’d forever have a scar on my cheek. I told him I’d think about the surgery, but I knew I’d never do it. I guess in my heart I really wanted that scar. I wanted it to always remind me of what happened that summer. I wanted to see it every time I looked in the mirror, and feel it under my fingers every night when I washed my face before I went to bed.

That scar was a reminder of the secret I would keep for as long as I lived.

Chief Benally came to my cabin one more time. He had found out about Vinnie’s father, long after he ever got the chance to meet him. He knew the general story, he knew that Lou had been arrested. He knew that I had gotten him out and that soon after that, he and Buck had both disappeared. I answered every question I could, until I got to what actually had happened that night. Then I had nothing more to say. I had no knowledge of where they might have gone, or if they had even left together.

It was a lie of omission, of course. I hated the lie and I hated that I was able to tell the lie. But no matter how many times he asked me the same question, he always got the same answer.

I told the same lie to Vinnie. He started making some plans about going down to Chicago to look for Buck, but I think he knew it was hopeless. I think he knew that Buck was dead, and maybe, just maybe, he was able to figure out what his father had done for him. If he did, then maybe he also knew that I knew the same thing, or at least suspected it. Either way, he hasn’t pressed me on it.

Somehow, we’re still good. We have breakfast together at the Glasgow and sometimes dinner if he doesn’t have a shift at the casino. He is still my best friend and I would lay my life on the line again for him, no matter what. I know he’d do the same for me. It’s the one thing that helps me to sleep at night.

And yes, he still lives in his cabin. He didn’t move into his mother’s house. He still goes to the reservation, whether it’s to go to work or to see his sisters and nieces and nephews.

For me, it’s a different story. When I have to go to Sault Ste. Marie now, it means going down to the highway and taking that flat monotonous stretch all the way across the hayfields. I don’t take Lakeshore Drive anymore. It’s the road that follows the shoreline of Whitefish Bay and it’s my favorite road in the world, but to get to it you have to drive through the reservation. It has been made clear to me that if I am found on their land, certain members of the Bay Mills Indian Community will make me very sorry for this mistake.

It’s not that Chief Benally would pull me over and give me a cheap speeding ticket. That’s not the kind of game he would play.

No, I’m thinking more about Henry Carrick and what he said to me the night he came out to find me at the Glasgow Inn. He knew I had gotten Lou out of the holding cell that night. Hell, he was right there to see me do it. He didn’t even bother asking me if Lou was involved in Buck’s disappearance. So I didn’t have to tell the lie again. He just made his promise to me about the consequences of setting foot on the rez, and then he left.

Someday I’ll try him out. I think I’d actually like to see how much he means it. But for now, I can’t afford the trouble. I can’t afford to take my eyes off Vinnie LeBlanc for one minute. Not yet. Not until I’m sure that Corvo isn’t on his way up from Chicago.

I have a gun now. I have a well-earned hatred of the things, and my last gun had ended up on the bottom of Lake Superior, but I went down to the gun shop and picked up a Glock G21. I’m a former cop and I still carry a PI license, even if I seldom use it. So I had no problem getting a carry permit. I wear it in a shoulder holster during the day, whether I’m tacking plastic onto the windows of the cabins, or splitting firewood, or sitting by the fireplace at the Glasgow.

At night I keep it close to my bed. I watch the road and I listen.

That’s the part that Henry Carrick doesn’t get. Henry Carrick and Mary LeBlanc and Regina LeBlanc and every other member of the tribe, they just don’t understand that Vinnie doesn’t live on their reservation anymore.

He lives on mine.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks as always to the “usual suspects,” new and old—Bill Keller and Frank Hayes, Peter Joseph and everyone at Minotaur Books, Bill Massey and everyone at Orion, Jane Chelius, Euan Thorneycroft, Maggie Griffin, Mary Alice Kier and Anna Cottle, MWA, Bob Randisi and PWA, Bob Kozak and everyone at IBM, Nick Childs, David White, Elizabeth Cosin, Jeff Allen, Rob Brenner, Jan Long, Phil and Dennise Hoffman, Taylor and Liz Brugman, Larry Queipo, former chief of police, Town of Kingston, New York, and Dr. Glenn Hamilton from the Department of Emergency Medicine, Wright State University.

Also, to the memory of Ruth Cavin.

And as always, to Julia, my best friend more than ever; to Nicholas, who has the biggest heart of anyone I know; and to Antonia, who amazes me every single day.