A Cold Day in Paradise (16 page)

A couple hours later I was still in town, sitting on the
hood of my truck on Portage Street, looking out at the vast expanse of Lake Superior. I sat there for a long time, thinking about the night before. Dave didn’t hear me calling him because the radio wasn’t even on. Didn’t I even notice that the unit was dead? No static, even?

And then when Prudell was knocking on my door, the way I grabbed that gun. What if I had opened the door before Dave got there? Would I have shot him? Prudell could be dead right now, on top of everything else. What was happening to me?

And why in God’s name won’t Rose see me? It doesn’t make any sense. Unless … unless it’s not really Rose. The man is afraid I’ll know it’s not him if I see him.

Listen to yourself, Alex. Listen to what you’re saying.

But what else can explain it? Rose is the only person who could have written that note.

Stop it. Just stop it.

I could see the dark clouds building in the western sky. The wind began to pick up. It stung my face and brought tears to my eyes.

I
FINALLY MADE
it into the Glasgow for dinner, after killing a few more hours driving around, going nowhere. I didn’t want to go back to the cabin yet. I dreaded the thought of another long night there.

Jackie was behind the bar when I got there. “What the hell happened to you?” he said. “You look worse than I do, and that’s saying something.”

“It’s a long story, Jackie. I’m not going to tell you until you slide a beer this way.”

He cracked a Canadian for me. “Couple men in here asking about you last night.”

“One of those men would be Leon Prudell, I take it.”

“Yeah, he came in later. Said he had some unfinished
business with you. Drank a good twenty dollars’ of whiskey before he finally left. I keep overcharging that guy but he doesn’t seem to notice.”

“Who else was here?”

“What’s his name, the chief of police over in the Soo.”

“Roy Maven?”

“Yeah, that’s the guy. He was asking all sorts of questions about you. You know, how often you come in, who you hang out with.”

I raised my bottle. “Here’s to Roy Maven,” I said.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on or aren’t you?”

“Get your no-good son out here so we can go sit down,” I said. “This is going to take a while.”

His son poked his head out of the kitchen. There was a phone in his hand. “Hey, is McKnight here?”

“Depends on who’s calling,” I said.

“Do you know a woman named Theodora Fulton? She sounds like she’s ready to kill you.”

I jumped off the barstool and grabbed the phone from him. “Mrs. Fulton?”

“Alex! My God, where have you been? I’ve been calling you for two hours.”

“Take it easy, Mrs. Fulton. What’s the problem?”

“It’s Edwin!”

I felt a needle in my gut, sickly and cold. “What about Edwin? What’s the matter?”

“I knew this would happen,” she said. “I had such a horrible feeling when I woke up this morning.”

“Mrs. Fulton, tell me!”

“He’s gone,” she said. “He told me he’d be back in a little while. But he didn’t come back, Alex. He … “Her voice broke for an instant while she struggled with the panic. “He’s gone, Alex. Edwin is gone.”

M
RS.
F
ULTON WAS
already standing in the doorway when I got there. She grabbed the front of my coat and pulled me into the house. “What in God’s name took you so long?” she said as she steered me onto the couch. “I called you twenty minutes ago.” She didn’t sit next to me. She just stood there looking down at me.

“I came as fast as I could, Mrs. Fulton.” I wasn’t about to tell her that it had only been fifteen minutes. “Please, you have to tell me exactly what happened.”

“He’s gone,” she said. “My son is gone.”

“Gone where? When did he leave?”

“It was around noon. He said he needed to go into the office for a little while. He said he’d be back for dinner.”

I looked at my watch. It was almost seven o’clock. “He’s not that late,” I said. “It’s just starting to get dark out.”

“No, no,” she said. “He’s never late. Edwin is never late for dinner. He should have been here two hours ago.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said. “Did you call his office?”

“Yes, of course I did.” She made a fist with her right hand and rubbed it with her left, like she was getting ready to belt me.

“Then he’s probably on his way home right now.”

“I called at five-thirty. Don’t you understand? He should be home by now!”

I grabbed her hands and pulled her onto the couch. “Please, Mrs. Fulton. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“He shouldn’t have left the house,” she said. “He should have stayed here. It’s too dangerous.”

“No, Mrs. Fulton, no. You can’t think that way.”

“He had a fight with
her
” she said. Her voice turned cold. “She was yelling at him. I could hear them from down here. That’s why he had to leave. He just had to get away from here.”

“He had a fight with Sylvia?”

“Yes,” she said. “That woman drove him out of the house.”

“Well then, that explains why he hasn’t come back yet, doesn’t it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s probably just sitting in a bar somewhere.”

“Do you think so?” Finally, the first hint of hope in her voice.

“Of course,” I said. “He’s talking to a bartender right now, telling him all about it. You know, trying to figure women out. We’ve all done that.”

From behind me a voice said, “He’s at the casino.” I turned and saw Sylvia standing there.

“How do you know that?” I said.

“Because he told me that’s where he was going,” she said. The expression on her face was totally unreadable. I didn’t know if she was angry or smug or God knows what. “That’s why we were fighting.”

Mrs. Fulton just stared at her. For the first time, I sensed some of the history between them.

“Edwin told me that he was through with gambling,” Mrs. Fulton said.

“He told that to everyone,” Sylvia said. “But it was
only a matter of time. He needed his fix. I couldn’t stop him.”

“Which casino is he at?” I said.

“He starts at one casino and then moves on when he thinks his luck is turning bad,” she said. “You know that. You’ve gone and found him before.”

“Alex,” Mrs. Fulton said, “you know how to find him? You’ve done it before?”

“Yes,” I said, looking at Sylvia. I remembered the last time I had gone looking for him. It was a summer night, as warm as it ever gets up here on the lake. Sylvia had wanted me to spend the night, to use this rare chance to wake up in the same bed together. He won’t come back, she had told me. You know he’ll be gone all night. And even if he does come back, then so what, so he finds out. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

I told her it was time for us to put an end to it. And then the warm night got even warmer.

“Please,” Mrs. Fulton said, “go find Edwin. Will you do that please?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll go find him.”

Uttley came in the house. Why did he always show up five minutes after I could really use him? “What’s going on?” he said. “Alex, shouldn’t you be at your cabin?”

“Edwin is gone,” Mrs. Fulton said. “Alex is going to go find him.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “He’s at one of the casinos.”

“I thought he said—”

“I know,” I said. “So he had a little relapse. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll go get him and then we can all beat on him until he admits he needs to get some help with his problem.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Uttley said.

“No, you stay here,” I said. “See if you can make Mrs.
Fulton some tea or something. I won’t be long. There aren’t that many places he could be.”

“Maven’s not going to like this,” he said.

“Maven doesn’t like
anything
I do. So it doesn’t matter.”

On my way out, I grabbed Sylvia by the elbow and pushed her into the hallway. “Goddamn it,” I said in a whisper. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Let go of me,” she said. Her green eyes shone with enough venom to kill me seven times over.

“Why did you let him go out gambling?”

“I told you, I tried to stop him. What does it matter, anyway? You don’t care what happens to him.”

“Why are you still here?” I said. “Why don’t you tell him you want to leave, go back home to Grosse Pointe?”

“I don’t think you really want me to leave,” she said.

“Is that what this is about? Are you making him stay here because you think there’s still a chance for us? Because if you are—”

“Oh please,” she said. “That is so pathetic. And so transparent. You’re the one who’s missing it, Alex. It’s so obvious.”

“Whatever you say, Sylvia. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go find your husband.”

She caught my arm as I turned to go. “Alex,” she said, her voice low and even, the anger seemingly turned off in an instant. I could smell her perfume. I knew it would cling to me. Her scent would stay with me all night. “What’s going on? Why is she so upset about Edwin being gone?”

“I can’t talk about it right now,” I said.

“Is he really in danger? Tell me the truth.”

“I promised her I’d bring him back,” I said. “And I’m going to.”

“Your promises don’t mean anything.” She said it
without malice, like it was nothing more than simple truth. “I should know.”

I
HEADED TO
the Bay Mills Casino first, Edwin’s favorite place to play blackjack. On the way I gave Maven a call. He wasn’t in, so I left a message that I wouldn’t be at the cabin for a while. If he really wanted to, he could let an officer sit by my phone. Dave had a key. He could pretend to be me for a night.

It almost made me happy to imagine how upset he would be when he found out I wasn’t at home. I was sure Edwin was just sitting at a blackjack table, spending money as fast as he could. He didn’t even know how to play the game. I once saw him draw two sevens against a dealer showing a six. He didn’t split them. He didn’t even stand. He hit the fourteen and busted. Most compulsive gamblers at least give themselves a fighting chance once in a while.

I’m sure that’s where he was. Or in a bar somewhere. Just like I told his mother. This prickly little ball of dread rolling up and down my back, that was just a product of my overworked imagination. God knows I had every right to it by now.

The casino is on the Bay Mills reservation, just north of Brimley. No big sign in front, no lights all over the place. The outside is all cedar, the inside is all high wooden beams and ceiling fans. It looks nothing at all like a casino, not like in Vegas or Atlantic City where they try to dazzle you into coming inside and staying. Only the noise is the same, that distinctive casino noise that hits you as soon as you walk into the place. The slot machines with that hollow electronic music, the coins hitting the metal trays, a payoff somewhere in the room every few seconds. The keno wheel spinning and clacking, slower and slower until
it stops. Dealers calling out every exchange of money for chips, the pit bosses answering. A thousand voices at once, begging for the right card or the right turn on the roulette wheel, celebrating, cursing, winning, losing. You just stand in the middle of the room for five minutes, that noise starts to make sense. It starts calling your name. Tonight’s your night, it says. As long as you’re in this room, nothing can touch you. You’re better than everybody else. You’re smarter, you’re luckier. You deserve to be a winner.

A guy like Edwin doesn’t stand a chance here.

They had about twenty blackjack tables going, a Bay Mills tribe member standing at each one, dealing the cards with detached precision. I didn’t see Edwin at any of them. I pulled a pit boss over and asked him if Edwin Fulton had been in. I knew he’d know the name.

“Just got here myself,” he said. “Let me go ask somebody else.”

I watched a few hands of blackjack while he was away. The players were a strange mix of downstaters. One man was wearing the kind of clothes you only see in casinos anymore: the polyester blue sport coat, the pinkie ring, the tie as wide as a lobster bib. The man next to him looked like he walked right out of the woods: the mandatory orange pants and jacket, the hunting license pinned to his back. They were both pushing piles of chips onto the table and staring at the cards as though they were hypnotized. I wondered if they pumped extra oxygen into the air here like they do in Vegas, just to keep the bettors from getting tired.

The pit boss reappeared. “Mr. Fulton was here,” he said. “He left about two hours ago. I understand he made quite a little performance on his way out.”

“Oh beautiful,” I said. “You guys didn’t throw him out the window or anything, did you? Not that I’d blame you.”

“I wouldn’t know. Like I said, I wasn’t here.”

“Is Vinnie LeBlanc here? Red Sky? I’m sorry, I don’t know what he calls himself here. He lives down the road from me.”

“Red Sky, huh? He’s gonna hear about that one. No, I think he’s on his dinner break. He should be back soon.”

I thanked the man and left. When I was outside I took a deep breath of the night air. The casino sounds were still buzzing in my head. From the west I caught a blast of cold wind that smelled like rain.

I raced down Six Mile Road toward the city, hoping I was right behind him on his rounds through the casinos. Just before I got there, my cellular phone rang. I had a good idea who it was, but I picked it up anyway.

“McKnight, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Chief Maven, what a pleasant surprise.”

“You’re supposed to be in your cabin.”

“I’ll be there. I just have to find Edwin first.”

“Goddamn it, McKnight, are the two of you queer for each other or something?”

“Would that upset you, Chief? That I was already taken?”

“Go fuck yourself, McKnight.”