A Stolen Season by Steve Hamilton Page B

guys were working on the cabin.”
    “No, actually, we were in jail.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Listen, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you, okay?”
    “You’re telling me to be careful here and you’re the one getting thrown in jail?”
    “Okay, I know it looks bad on paper.”
    “What, you got drunk, you got in a fight…My God, Alex.”
    “I wasn’t drunk. Come on.”
    “This is almost kinda funny. I should be laughing.”
    “Yeah, it’s hilarious.”
    “Are you going to be charged with anything?”
    “No,” I said. “Chief Maven let us go this morning.”
    “Chief Maven…That’s beautiful. Did you say ‘hi’ for me?”
    “Your name didn’t come up, no.”
    “Okay, I’ve got to go now.”
    “Natalie. Please. Do you want the whole story now?”
    “I really have to go. Don is here. We’re getting ready to roll.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Okay. Give me a call later, please? Let me know how you’re doing?”
    “I’ll try. Unless things get crazy. Just do me a favor, eh?”
    “What’s that?”
    “Try to stay out of jail tonight.”
     
     
    When I finally headed down to the Glasgow, I looked for Vinnie’s truck as I passed his house. It wasn’t there. The sun was going down now. It was officially time to start getting worried.
    I was hoping maybe he’d be down at the Glasgow. No such luck. Jackie said he hadn’t seen him all day.
    “You weren’t here again last night,” he added. “That’s two nights in a row. A new record.”
    “It might be a hat trick,” I said. “I’ve gotta go find Vinnie before he does something really stupid.”
    It was almost dark by the time I got to the rez. I cruised down the main street, past Vinnie’s mother’s place. No sign of his truck. I checked both casinos. Nothing.
    “God damn you, Vinnie. Please tell me you’re not tracking those guys down.”
    There was only one place left to go. I headed east to the Soo. I had nothing to think about all the way there except the way Natalie sounded on the phone, and what she’d be getting herself into next. Maybe even right now, as I was driving down this lonely road. Maybe right this very moment, she’s five hundred miles away, in the dark corners of a big city, putting it all on the line.
    Thinking so much about Natalie and Toronto…It was a jarring segue when I hit Sault Ste. Marie. I think of the place as a city, but it’s not. Not by a long shot. It’s a small village on the edge of the water, the last stop before you leave the country. A true border town, dwarfed by its sister with the same name on the other side of the river. Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, is a good four times bigger. All the clubs are over there. The music and the dancing girls. You know you’re in the minor leagues when you have to go over to Canada to find the real nightlife.
    The only bright lights in town were at the Kewadin, as usual. I didn’t see Vinnie’s truck there. I drove up Seymour Street, past Caroline’s house. The place looked completely dark, like nobody had lived there in years. If I hadn’t been there myself the night before, if I hadn’t stood in the kitchen and seen Caroline’s husband smoking his cigarette and drinking his beer, I would have sworn that this was an abandoned house.
    I parked the truck on the street, got out, and knocked on the door, just in case. There was no answer.
    “Come on, Vinnie. Where the hell are you?”
    I got back in the truck, drove down Portage Avenue. I slowed down in front of all eight bars. Then I cut back and drove by the Antlers. I was running out of options.
    “All right, I’m done, Vinnie. If you want to do this that badly, I can’t help you.”
    I drove back to Paradise. I was getting tired again. I went through Brimley, through the rez. Up around the edge of the bay, with the water looking dark and cold in my headlights. If I was hoping he’d be there at the Glasgow, I was disappointed. If I was hoping his truck would be parked in front