Dead of Winter

CHAPTER 42

Louis could hear the whirring of the chopper as it sat waiting in the clearing beyond the trees. He watched as Cole was brought out on a stretcher. A minute later, the chopper rose above the trees and moved off into the darkness. It was only then Louis turned back to face Steele and the question he had asked.

“Answer me,” Steele demanded. “You expect me to believe this shit?”

“Cole will back it up,” Louis said.

“That stupid kid?” Steele said. “Hardly a credible witness.”

Louis’s eyes swept over the chaos of men surrounding the hut. Fatigue had numbed him to the cold but the ache inside lingered. He hurt, every part of him hurt.

“I told you the truth,” Louis said.

“Your chief is dead,” Steele said. “The goddamn suspect is dead and the kid will probably die. You expect me to believe Chief Gibralter orchestrated this insane operation and then shot down the suspects in cold blood?”

Louis stared at him. “It’s the truth. All of it.”

“You better hope Cole Lacey lives long enough to back up your story, Kincaid. If he doesn’t you can add murder to the long list of criminal charges I’m going to hit you with.”

Steele turned, took several steps then came back. “I’ve seen a lot of stupidity in my time but this takes it all,” he said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Jesse. I was thinking about Jesse.”

“Who?”

“Jesse Harrison,” Louis snapped. “My partner.”

“Who is also dead.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Steele stared at him, shaking his head. “You know something, Kincaid, Gibralter is not the only lunatic in this fucked-up department. Lacey abducted your partner and left him dead somewhere. Not Gibralter, not your chief.”

Louis held up the rabbit’s foot. “This belongs to Jesse. He had it with him earlier tonight at my cabin. I found it in Gibralter’s Bronco.”

Steele stared at him. “So where is he then?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to look for him.”

Steele shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re on suspension.”

“You don’t have the authority,” Louis said. “I’m going to look for Jesse.”

“I could arrest you and detain you for hours.”

Louis closed his fist around the rabbit’s foot. “Look, I know Gibralter. I know how he thinks. Now let me go so I can join the search.”

Steele’s eyes hardened as the wind blew snow across his face. Louis shook his head in disgust and turned to walk away.

Steele’s voice sounded behind him. “Lockhart!” he called, waving to a trooper just exiting his car.

Louis turned. Steele met his eye briefly then looked at the trooper. “Take Kincaid back to town.”

Lockhart nodded and opened the back door to his cruiser. Louis slid in the back. He pulled his parka up around him. The stiff nylon was raw against his face.

“Turn up the heat, will you, guys?”

Lockhart’s partner nodded and after a few minutes the back began to warm up. Louis stared at the backs of their heads through the mesh screen as the cruiser bounced down the snowy hill. After a while, it hit a logging road and Lockhart sped up as he threaded through the trees toward the highway.

Where would Gibralter have taken Jesse? To his own home? To Zoe’s cabin? Neither of those choices made sense. He wasn’t sure Jesse was even alive. If Jesse had decided to turn against Gibralter he might be dead out in the woods somewhere.

Think. Think. Think about the man. Think like he thinks.

Even if Jesse had turned he couldn’t see Gibralter killing him. It was more logical that he do something to intimidate Jesse until he could win back his loyalty. But what? Gibralter had always used people’s weaknesses to control them — Cole’s fear of abuse, Louis’s need for justice, Zoe’s fear of being alone. Gibralter controlled Jesse all his life. How would he do it now?

The cruiser rumbled over one last set of rocks and hit pavement. The black road stretched out into the night.

Louis closed his eyes. Gibralter would take Jesse to a place that instilled fear, a feeling that if he didn’t come around he would die. It would also be a place where Gibralter could return to, once again playing the role of savior.

Louis stared out the fogged window as the lake came into view. He wiped away the condensation with his sleeve. There was a faint pink glow in the eastern sky, dawn. Out on the dark expanse of the lake he saw a soft glow. A lantern, someone firing up a fishing shanty.

His eyes swung to the mesh screen that separated him from the two troopers.

Louis put a hand on the screen.

Lockhart glanced back. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Louis looked back at the lake. He knew. God, he knew.

“Turn here. Turn left up here,” Louis said.

“What?”

“I said turn left. Here!” Louis shouted.

Lockhart cruised on past the snowy side road. “Where?”

Louis hit the screen with his palm. “Stop! Jesus Christ, turn around. Turn around now!”

Lockhart backed up, swung the cruiser around and started down the narrow road.

“There,” Louis said, “at the end, by the shore. That green house. Pull in there.”

The cruiser edged closer, bogged down by the deep drifts.

“We’re going to get stuck,” Lockhart warned.

“Fuck it,” Louis said. He moved to open the door but realized he couldn’t. It only opened from the outside. “Let me out. Come on, let me out!”

Lockhart stopped the car and jerked open the back door. Louis jumped from the cruiser and ran through the snow. He fell, scrambled up and rushed on.

When he hit the porch of Lovejoy’s cabin he tore off the yellow crime-scene seal on the door and pushed. It was locked.

“Goddamn it!” he shouted. He kicked at the door then kicked again. Using his full weight, he shoved at the door with his shoulder and it sprang open.

He stumbled through the dark living room, grappling for lights. The walls were like ice, the air so cold it burned his lungs. He tripped on a small table and kicked it aside. He hurried through the darkness, shoving open the bedroom door at the end of the dark hall.

His hand shot to the switch and he slapped at it, flooding the room in light. His heart stopped.

Jesse was in the dog cage, both wrists handcuffed to the wire, his head resting against the cage, the dog blanket across his legs. His face was covered with a light frost, his lips were purple and there was a thin line of dried blood on his cheek.

Louis dropped to his knees, stuck his hand through the wire and pressed two fingers against Jesse’s neck. A pulse. He could feel a pulse.

“Jesus Christ,” Lockhart whispered from behind him.

Louis threw out his hand. “Give me your cuff key.”