highway, down the rutted dirt road that led to the shoreline. Maybe three dozen people lingered there in a tight clump, a couple of them talking to Officer Sakota, the rest watching LaMer, who was down the shore a piece, standing next to a black garbage bag.
She got out and approached Sakota, all six feet of him looking vomitus green. “What is it?”
“Our missing dog, I think. This one”—here, he indicated the young woman, maybe seventeen, who stood next to him—“stepped on it.”
“Jesus,” Adair said.
The girl’s chin quivered, and a friend wrapped her in an embrace. Adair kept moving toward the spot where LaMer worked. Once there, she reached down and pulled back a flap that LaMer had cut into the plastic bag. A putrid blast of air belched up, immeasurably worse than any rotten meat Adair had ever smelled. The dead eye of a Chihuahua stared back at her.
“My god,” she said. “That our dog?”
“I think so.” LaMer stood a few steps away. He had his T-shirt hiked over his nose and mouth.
Adair covered up with one hand and took another look. Bloated entrails spilled from puncture wounds in the Chihuahua. “He’s been tore up,” she said. “Figure he was used as bait? We looking at dog fights?”
“That’s what I’m figuring.”
“How many dogs are we missing in town?” she asked.
“Just Mina Pollard’s, I think,” LaMer said. “This one.”
She looked back at the congregation along the shore, then checked her watch. Coming up hard on four p.m.
“OK, here’s the deal,” Adair said. “I want you to stay here until the McKenzie sheriff arrives. I’m going to go get those people out of here and head back to town with Phil. Now listen to me: This isn’t our case. It’s North Dakota’s, but I want you here to hand it off, and then come straight back because we’ve got a lot of our own problems.”
“Sure thing.”
She looked at the bag and felt the stirrings of revolt by her lunch.
“Has anybody had a good look at that?”
LaMer pointed at the crowd gathered on the shore. “You mean them?”
“Yeah.”
“Just the girl and her boyfriend. I guess she came out of the water like a shot. He pulled out the bag. That’s when we got called.”
“But the others would have seen at least that, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Adair lifted her face to the clouds and closed her eyes. She thought she’d do just about anything to keep Mina Pollard from having to know too much about this.
“OK,” she finally said. “Those people are going to talk. Nothing we can do about that. We can keep from making it worse by not saying anything that we don’t get officially from McKenzie County. You understand?”
“Yeah.”
“OK,” she said. “I’m going back to town. I’ll find Mina and talk to her. You get back as soon as you can, understand?”
MAMA
Blanche sat in her chair, the window AC unit blowing cold air on her neck, and she held tight to the hand of the boy who’d come back to see her at last. Little Samuel—not so little anymore, of course, in fact a full-grown man on his own in the great yawping world—was her favorite of the grandchildren, not that she had a whole passel of choices. There was Samuel or Denise, a rude girl that one, always sneering and back talking. Of course, Blanche reminded herself, you love all the little children, for they are God’s creations, but it was a sin to lie, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like Samuel best.
She patted his hand, and he looked at her again, and she smiled. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Blanche had given a lot of thought to dying—she thought of it every day, and she was ready, oh, Lord, yes, she was—but she’d also hoped that Samuel would come to see her again before she departed. She was all the time asking Sam when his boy would be back, and Sam would mumble something about the cost of airfare, and she knew her son wasn’t telling her the full truth about his own boy. What can I do
She got out and approached Sakota, all six feet of him looking vomitus green. “What is it?”
“Our missing dog, I think. This one”—here, he indicated the young woman, maybe seventeen, who stood next to him—“stepped on it.”
“Jesus,” Adair said.
The girl’s chin quivered, and a friend wrapped her in an embrace. Adair kept moving toward the spot where LaMer worked. Once there, she reached down and pulled back a flap that LaMer had cut into the plastic bag. A putrid blast of air belched up, immeasurably worse than any rotten meat Adair had ever smelled. The dead eye of a Chihuahua stared back at her.
“My god,” she said. “That our dog?”
“I think so.” LaMer stood a few steps away. He had his T-shirt hiked over his nose and mouth.
Adair covered up with one hand and took another look. Bloated entrails spilled from puncture wounds in the Chihuahua. “He’s been tore up,” she said. “Figure he was used as bait? We looking at dog fights?”
“That’s what I’m figuring.”
“How many dogs are we missing in town?” she asked.
“Just Mina Pollard’s, I think,” LaMer said. “This one.”
She looked back at the congregation along the shore, then checked her watch. Coming up hard on four p.m.
“OK, here’s the deal,” Adair said. “I want you to stay here until the McKenzie sheriff arrives. I’m going to go get those people out of here and head back to town with Phil. Now listen to me: This isn’t our case. It’s North Dakota’s, but I want you here to hand it off, and then come straight back because we’ve got a lot of our own problems.”
“Sure thing.”
She looked at the bag and felt the stirrings of revolt by her lunch.
“Has anybody had a good look at that?”
LaMer pointed at the crowd gathered on the shore. “You mean them?”
“Yeah.”
“Just the girl and her boyfriend. I guess she came out of the water like a shot. He pulled out the bag. That’s when we got called.”
“But the others would have seen at least that, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Adair lifted her face to the clouds and closed her eyes. She thought she’d do just about anything to keep Mina Pollard from having to know too much about this.
“OK,” she finally said. “Those people are going to talk. Nothing we can do about that. We can keep from making it worse by not saying anything that we don’t get officially from McKenzie County. You understand?”
“Yeah.”
“OK,” she said. “I’m going back to town. I’ll find Mina and talk to her. You get back as soon as you can, understand?”
MAMA
Blanche sat in her chair, the window AC unit blowing cold air on her neck, and she held tight to the hand of the boy who’d come back to see her at last. Little Samuel—not so little anymore, of course, in fact a full-grown man on his own in the great yawping world—was her favorite of the grandchildren, not that she had a whole passel of choices. There was Samuel or Denise, a rude girl that one, always sneering and back talking. Of course, Blanche reminded herself, you love all the little children, for they are God’s creations, but it was a sin to lie, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like Samuel best.
She patted his hand, and he looked at her again, and she smiled. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Blanche had given a lot of thought to dying—she thought of it every day, and she was ready, oh, Lord, yes, she was—but she’d also hoped that Samuel would come to see her again before she departed. She was all the time asking Sam when his boy would be back, and Sam would mumble something about the cost of airfare, and she knew her son wasn’t telling her the full truth about his own boy. What can I do
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