Chapter 11
Trying to steer an empty canoe on a big lake in a high wind is a challenge even for the most experienced canoeist. The storm had come up quickly and fiercely, a raging wind, driving rain, lightning, thunder.
Rather than battle the elements, I decided it would be best to head back to the safety of the inlet I’d just left.
To reach the inlet, I knew I’d have to battle a crosswind, unwise because the waves would hit the canoe broadside, very likely swamping me.
So for a while, I headed directly into the storm, the bow of my canoe lifting and falling on the high swells.
When I was beyond the inlet, I swung around, put the wind at my back, and made quickly for the protection of the little cove and the trees there.
In the brief illuminations from the flashes of lightning, I spotted a reasonable landing site.
The rain poured down as if I was plunging into a waterfall, and when I stepped from the canoe, the crack and boom of thunder shook the ground under my feet.
“Small chance of an overnight shower my ass!” I shouted into the night.
The trees around me bent like reeds in the wind.
I hunkered under that shifting canopy of pine boughs, but the rain came at a slant, and it was impossible for me to escape the deluge.
The worst of the storm lasted half an hour, then moved northeast. The wind let up and the rain diminished along with it.
The rumbling grew more distant. But at the end of a particularly long roll of thunder, I heard a distinctive crack come from somewhere far across the lake.
Because of the confusion of the storm, I couldn’t be a hundred percent certain, but I thought I understood what it was.
At night, particularly when a storm moves through the North Country, the temperature can drop dramatically.
Hypothermia can happen even in summer, so I knew I had to get myself into dry clothes and warmed by a fire.
I shoved the canoe back into the water, got in, and paddled from the inlet.
The wind had dropped to a mild breeze, but the sky was still overcast, and the sole light I saw was from our campfire.
It had been a long day. I was pretty near the end of my strength, but there was nothing to be done except to keep on paddling.
When I was near the point, I shot the beam of my headlamp toward camp.
When I hit the shore, Stephen was waiting.
I quickly put on dry clothes. When I came from my tent, Mal and Daniel were sitting by the fire, which Stephen had continued to feed, even during the storm.
“Happy you made it back,” Daniel said. “It must have been rough out there.”
“The boys?” I asked.
“Luke’s dead to the world,” Mal said. “The storm didn’t wake him at all.”
“Same with Waaboo,” Daniel said. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing. But I wasn’t able to get to the last campsite. And I can’t be sure, but I thought I heard a gunshot.”
“Where?” Stephen said.
“Hard to tell.”
“But you’re not sure it was a gunshot?” Mal said, his voice hopeful.
“Not a hundred percent. If it was, it sounded small caliber. Maybe a handgun, not a rifle.”
“At first light we’re out of here,” Daniel said. “We’re not taking any chances.”
“What about Cordell?” I asked.
“We need to think of the safety of the boys first,” Mal said.
“When we get back to Aurora, we’ll report everything to Sheriff Dross,” Daniel said. “It’ll be in her hands then.”
Stephen had thrown a tarp over the firewood we’d gathered to keep it dry in the rain. He pulled the tarp away, grabbed a couple more sticks, and tossed them into the flames. “Too bad we lost the satphone. We could have a floatplane or a chopper out here first thing in the morning.”
I stared into the fire. “Nothing happens by accident. It’s all a part of the Creator’s plan.”
I looked up and saw Mal giving me a bewildered look.
“Something Henry has said to me many times,” I explained.
“What possible reason could God have for all that’s happened here?
” the ex-priest said, his voice bordering on anger.
“People blame God for everything because it takes the responsibility off their shoulders. It wasn’t God who did whatever unspeakable things might have been done here.
The God I believe in would never sanction something like that. It’s men who do evil, Cork.”
“And it’s men who make them pay,” I said.
The others were quiet then, staring at me.
“I’m not leaving,” I told them.
“Dad—” Stephen began.
“I’m not leaving. I need to know if Cordell’s okay.”
“We don’t know what might have really happened here,” Stephen said. “Maybe it didn’t involve Cordell at all.”
“It involved somebody. If it wasn’t Cordell, I want to know who.”
“Let the sheriff’s people handle this, Cork,” Mal said. “It’s not your responsibility. Yours is here with us, making sure we get out safely.”
“Stephen and Daniel both know the way. They’ll get you out.”
“And if you do find Cordell and those yahoos with him, what are you going to do?” Mal said.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“You said you heard a gunshot. You don’t have a firearm of any kind if it comes to that,” Daniel pointed out. “You’re not a cop anymore, Cork.”
“I’m not doing this because I was a cop once. I’m doing it because Cordell is a friend. No more argument. I’ve made up my mind. We should try to get some sleep. I suspect we all have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
But no one moved.
The clouds had broken up, and they crossed the moon in brief scatterings. I looked east across the water to where the many islands and inlets of Shrike lay, and as I stared, the moon lit everything brilliantly for a few moments, then the clouds pushed darkness over it all again.
In the firelight, Stephen’s face was illuminated with his concern for me. “I saw the wolf tearing your heart out. I was given that vision for a reason, Dad.”
“A reason you haven’t been able to understand yet.”
“To warn you,” Stephen said as if it was obvious.
“Consider me warned then.”