Die a Stranger

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“What’s that sound?” Lou said, still sawing at the rope.

I didn’t answer him. The key had been dangling from the ignition, and I was too busy trying to start the engine. When it finally caught, I revved it and heard the pistons knocking and felt the whole motor shaking like it would fall right off into the water.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Lou said. “We’re sitting ducks.”

“We’ve got no chance,” I said. “I don’t care how big a head start we have. That boat will run us down.”

“I can’t hear it,” he said, as he stood and cocked his head toward the sound of the approaching boat. “How close are they?”

An idea came to me. Desperate and probably doomed to failure, but it was probably our only shot left.

“Where’s the money?” I said.

There was a duffel bag sitting just below the other captain’s chair. I hadn’t even noticed it until that very second. I picked up the bag and opened it. I saw the bundles of hundred-dollar bills inside.

“What are we gonna do with that?” Lou said. “Come on, we’ve got to make a run for it. We’ve gotta try, at least.”

“It’s ten miles back to Beaver Island, Lou. You take the boat and go around to the other side of this island. I’ll stay here and see if I can talk to this guy.”

“What, are you crazy? He’ll kill you in a second.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I know he’s expecting a bag full of money plus two Indians. We’ll have to see what happens if he only gets the money.”

“I’m not leaving you here, Alex. No way.”

“We’re wasting time,” I said as I pulled up the anchor. Then I reached over the gunwale and pulled the jet ski close. “They won’t hear you as long as they’ve got their own engine running. So get over to the other side and then cut your engine. Have that gun ready, just in case. If they come around, try to surprise him with it. You’ll probably only get one shot.”

Assuming the gun’s even dry enough to fire, I thought. Yet one more thing stacked against us.

“You take the boat,” he said. “I’ll stay here.”

“Bad idea. They’re looking for Indians, remember?”

“This is madness,” he said, but he didn’t stop me as I took the bag and climbed off the boat and onto the jet ski.

“Get going! Now!”

He pushed the throttle forward and cranked the steering wheel. The boat made a tight circle around me, churning up sand in the shallow water. He left the inlet and went around the northern end of the island. I could hear the other boat’s engine now. It was much closer.

This island’s about a mile long, I thought. We’re on the northwest corner. If this Corvo guy is coming from Chicago, he’ll approach from the southwest. If our boat’s on the eastern side, he shouldn’t see it. Unless he circles around, just to make sure the coast is clear. Which is exactly what I would do if I were in his place. Making this now officially the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.

The motor was getting louder. I knew it was just a matter of seconds now. I looked back and saw that Lou was almost out of sight. I willed that old fishing boat to go faster, to get around that bend before it was too late.

That’s when Corvo’s boat came into view. He’d come up from the south and hugged the shoreline, so when he cleared the bend in the island he was suddenly right there, right on top of me. I didn’t dare look back to make sure Lou was clear now. I just stood up on the jet ski, straddling the seat. I held the bag of money in the air and put my other hand in the air, as well. I said a silent prayer and tried to stop my knees from shaking.

It was one of those cigarette boats, long and sleek and ridiculous. Twin engines churning up the water. I’m sure the thing could hit one hundred miles per hour without breaking a sweat. There were two men in the boat, one behind the wheel, one standing and holding a rifle. There was a scope on the rifle. Both men were wearing sunglasses. The driver throttled down and sent his wake ahead of him. It rocked the jet ski and I had to reach down to grab one handle. That caused the standing man to aim the rifle right at me. I’m sure my face was clear in his crosshairs.

I fought to keep my balance as I raised both hands again. I held that bag as high as I could. The boat swung away and made a loop in the open water. Then it came back into the inlet dead slow, its engines purring.

The man kept the rifle trained on my face. Yet one more gun pointed at me in these last few days when it had seemed almost constant. If you think you ever get used to it, you don’t. That’s what I was learning.

The man at the wheel stood up and looked around. He was especially interested in the island itself. He was scanning the shoreline like he expected something or someone to surprise him, but there was nothing there but sand and trees and what looked like a healthy crop of poison ivy.

The man with the rifle was wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt. I finally noticed that detail. The man at the wheel was wearing a nice light panel shirt, perfect for a day out in the summer sun. Not quite as casual as a Hawaiian shirt. It seemed odd to me that they’d be dressed that way. But then maybe they were trying to blend in with the other boaters on the lake. Of course, if they put the rifle away, they’d have a better shot at it.

Neither of them seemed in any hurry to talk to me. I was holding up that bag and my arm was starting to shake. I didn’t want to move.

“What’s the gag?” the man behind the wheel said. The boat was ten feet away now and drifting closer.

“No gag,” I said. “I have your money.”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment. Then he took another look around, like he was trying to spot the hidden camera.

“You’ll excuse my political incorrectness,” he finally said, “but you’re not an Indian. And there’s only one of you.”

“Right on both counts. There’s been a change in plans.”

“A change in what?” There was a look of pure amazement on his face. “Did you actually just say that?”

“I did.”

I kept breathing. I kept my legs locked straight.

“Throw me the bag,” he said. “Understand that if you do anything else, Mr. White here will shoot your head clean off your body.”

I tossed the bag to him. I kept my hands up afterward. I waited and watched while he opened the bag and took a quick scan through the stacks of hundreds.

“Okay,” he said, “so explain to me why I’m finding you here on a jet ski instead of two Indians on a boat, like I was expecting.”

“I told you, there’s been a change in plans. I came out here to personally deliver the money to you, and to explain the situation.”

He looked amazed again. I figured I should probably change my approach a bit.

“I’m not trying to dictate anything,” I said. “I just ask that you listen to me. I assume you’re Corvo, by the way.”

“Wow,” he said. “Okay, then. This should be interesting. Get in the boat.”

I hesitated.

“If you want to talk, talk,” he said. “But you’ll do it here in my boat.”

Mr. White lowered his rifle. He handed it to Corvo, who simply held it by the barrel as Mr. White extended one hand to me. Either it was a gesture of extreme trust or they knew that nobody would be so stupid as to try something.

“I’m not that old,” I said, brushing aside the man’s hand and climbing over the rail of their boat. I lost my balance for one instant and the man grabbed me. There was a pure animal strength in his grip as he straightened me up and gave me a quick once-over. My wallet came out of my back pocket. My cell phone out of my front pocket. These items were placed on one of the seat cushions. He patted down the rest of me, from shoulders to ankles.

Mr. White took back the rifle. With his hands free now, Corvo opened up my wallet and looked through its contents. I knew all he’d find would be my driver’s license, a few credit cards, and maybe a hundred dollars in very wet bills.

“Alex McKnight,” he said, reading from my license. “What do you do for a living?”

“I rent out cabins.”

He pushed down his sunglasses for a moment and looked at me.

“Something tells me that’s not all you do. But let’s go somewhere where we can be a little more comfortable. Have a seat.”

He straightened his sunglasses, sat down behind the wheel, and pushed the throttle forward. Any questions about actually sitting down became moot as I was thrown back onto the seat cushions.

Mr. White tucked the rifle behind him. Now that he knew I wasn’t carrying, he clearly couldn’t imagine me being any kind of threat. I couldn’t imagine it, either. I sat there and felt the wind against my wet clothes as Corvo took the boat straight out into the open water of Lake Michigan. He took a quick glance back over his shoulder to make sure I was appreciating the ride. I gave him a nod. Yes, I get it. You’ve got the fastest boat in the Great Lakes.

When he had taken us about ten minutes away, he throttled it back. I turned and looked at Gull Island. It was a small thing on the far side of the world now. Lou and Vinnie and Buck were somewhere on the other side of it, safe for the moment. Corvo swiveled in his chair and faced me, not bothering to look where he was drifting. We were miles away from anything.

He picked up my cell phone and looked at it. For once, I didn’t get a wisecrack about how old it was. Then he picked up my wallet. This time when he opened it, he took out the license and examined it closely.

“Paradise, Michigan,” he said. “That’s in the UP, right? Near Sault Ste. Marie?”

“Yes.”

“How far is it from the Newberry airport?”

“Forty miles, maybe.”

“Yes, you see? Now it’s coming together. Forty miles away. I’m going to ask you some questions now, and I’d like you to give me some totally straight answers. Are we okay with that?”

He took his sunglasses off. He had dark eyes. I couldn’t tell if maybe he had some Latin blood in him. Maybe even Indian. There was definitely a mix of races going on, along with something else. Robot or space alien or something. He looked me dead in the eye and he didn’t waver for one second.

“I’ll be straight with you,” I said.

“Good. Okay. So first question. Were you at the airport that night?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“The two Indians. They were there.”

“One of them was. The other came to pick him up when he called. You have to understand something.”

He looked taken aback again. But this time he was smiling.

“I have to understand something?” he said. “Really? Okay, then. Enlighten me.”

“I don’t know what the Kaisers told you, but I’m sure it’s all bullshit. Those two men had nothing to do with what happened at the airport.”

He was nodding his head. He was still smiling.

“The two men we’re talking about,” he said. “Buck Carrick, and the other one. Vincent LeBlanc. Right? Those are the two men?”

“Buck went along for the ride. That’s all. When things went wrong, he just wanted to get away. So he called Vinnie. End of story. What the Kaisers told you-”

“Was bullshit. Yeah, no kidding. You don’t think I know that?”

He just sat there, shaking his head, still smiling, still drilling two holes through me with those eyes.

“Alex, how well do you know the Kaisers?”

“I just met them today for the first time. It wasn’t a good experience.”

He laughed a little at that one.

“I don’t imagine it was,” he said. “But even if you just met them today, can we agree that they would sell out their own grandchildren to protect themselves?”

“Yes,” I said, recoiling at the very idea of Kaiser grandchildren. Maybe coming to visit them at their rented summer house on the island.

“Here’s the situation. You see, we had a business arrangement as of last month, and I thought everybody was getting along just fine.”

“After you muscled in on their operation, you mean.”

I wasn’t sure why I said it. It just came out and it hung there in the air for a moment. Then, before I could even see how he did it, a knife appeared in Corvo’s right hand. He twirled it between his fingers.

“After we agreed on the new arrangement, is how I prefer to put it. If you don’t mind.” His voice didn’t change at all, but the blade was more than enough. He was an absolute master at twirling it, I had to give him that much.

I nodded for him to go ahead. I tried to look him in the eye and not watch the knife.

“I know the Kaisers have the place on Beaver Island,” he said. “They think they can hunker down there and send me out a bag of money and a couple of Indians to take the blame for them. If it seems like I’m playing along, believe me, it’s only because I know I’ll catch up to them eventually.”

“They’re on the ferry back to the mainland right now.”

“Let them run. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find them.”

“I don’t think they’re running. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re going back to their house.”

“Do tell,” he said, looking a little surprised.

“I think they’re under the impression that you’re all square now,” I said, nodding toward the bag of money.

He shook his head slowly. Almost sadly. Like the very idea of this was just too much to bear. We were facing directly west now, the sun bright in my eyes.

“So where are they?” he finally said.

“I just told you. They’re on the ferry. They’re going back home.”

He smiled again. He stopped twirling the knife.

“The Indians,” he said. “Carrick and LeBlanc.”

“I thought we agreed they had no part in this.”

“We agreed that the Kaisers’ story was a lie, and that the Indians almost certainly had nothing to do with the planning of the new drop site. Or even the execution, for that matter. But when they were offered up as part of this deal today, I agreed to take them. Do you want to know why?”

I didn’t answer. I sat there and waited.

“Those two men who were left on the ground up there… Those two men who were betrayed and gunned down…”

You mean the two hijackers who somehow found out about the new location, I thought. Who went up there armed to the teeth, no doubt to kill someone and make a point.

“One was my brother,” he said. “The other was just as close as a brother to me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, but-”

The blade came so fast it was invisible. It was just a sound in the air. I felt the steel against the skin of my cheek. He was already sitting back in his chair when I felt the first drop of blood hit my arm.

“But what, Alex? But what? What were you going to say?”

I didn’t reach up to hold my cheek. I let it bleed.

“They called me from the airport,” he said. “Eldon did. My brother. He was still alive. He said O’Neil was alive, too. They were both sitting on the ground, bleeding.”

He leaned forward and cupped a hand under my cheek. When he drew it back there was a great drop of blood in his palm. He looked at it for a moment, then he showed it to me, like he was sharing a secret.

“They were dying on the ground, on some godforsaken little airstrip in the middle of the woods. Eldon was talking to me and he was saying, you gotta send help, you gotta get up here, and I’m doing the math, Chicago to the UP, it’s at least six hours away. Then I hear him yelling at somebody, he’s saying, ‘Hey, over here, you gotta help us. Get over here. Hey, where you going?’ And it turns out it’s this Indian guy. Eldon even said that to me, over the phone, he said there’s an Indian guy here, he’s gotta help us. You gotta call him and tell him, like he expects me to know this man’s name and his number so I can call him up and tell him to go save the two men who are dying. He was getting delirious at that point. He started saying all these strange, random things and then he’d come back into focus and he’d call to the Indian again, saying, ‘Come on, don’t leave, you gotta help us.’”

He weighed the knife in his hand again. I wondered which part of me would feel the blade next.

“So I found out,” he said. “The Kaisers were saying it was the Indian Carrick who was there at the airport, and the Indian LeBlanc who drove him away. I asked them who else was involved and they gave me the name of a two-bit dealer in Sault Ste. Marie. They said he helped put it all together, which once again I knew was a total fabrication. But at the same time I wondered if perhaps ten percent of it was true, like most lies. I had to find out, so I went up there and I talked to the dealer up there to get his side of the story.”

Yeah, you talked to him, I thought. Him and his neighbor both. You talked to them with that knife in your right hand.

“The dealer had his own take on the situation,” he said, “as you can imagine. But he was solid on Buck Carrick. He confirmed that connection. So now I knew that yes, it was Carrick at the airport. When Harry and Jo offered me both of them, well, let’s just say that it’ll help me keep a promise I made. To myself. To my father. To O’Neil’s father. This is beyond business now, you realize that. So I’ll ask you one more time. Where are they?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think anything would satisfy him, short of telling him that they were currently back in that boat, waiting on the other side of Gull Island. So I stayed silent. I began wondering how many times he would cut me, out here in the middle of the lake. How many times would he swing that blade before my life bled away and he dumped my body into the water?

He raised the knife until it was inches from my face.

“What am I supposed to do, Alex? Give me an idea, because right now I don’t have what I want. All I have is you.”

I looked him in the eye. I waited.

“Make him take us to them,” Mr. White said. It was the first time he had spoken, and his voice was surprisingly soft. “He must know where they are.”

Corvo didn’t look away from me. “Mr. White makes a good point,” he said. “Where are they?”

I shook my head. I didn’t say a word.

He brought the knife to my face. He touched my other cheek, the one that wasn’t already bleeding. I felt the point of the blade breaking my skin.

“Where are they?” he said.

I didn’t move. I didn’t close my eyes.

“Make him find them,” Mr. White said. “Make him find them and bring them to you.”

Corvo raised one eyebrow. He kept the knife pressed against my cheek.

“Now that’s an interesting idea,” he said, “but what guarantee do I have that he would deliver?”

“He looks pretty smart to me,” Mr. White said. “He knows that the two Indians are walking dead men. Nothing he can do will change that. If he doesn’t bring them to you, he’ll get exactly the same thing.”

“But if he does bring them to me,” Corvo said, “then he walks away. That’s what you’re saying. His payment for performing this service would be his life.”

“That’s right.”

“And what if he calls the police?”

“He won’t do that.”

“Why not?” Corvo said. “Why wouldn’t he do that?”

“Because he knows you’d smell a setup a mile away. Then it wouldn’t just be him and the Indians dying. It would be every family member of every man involved. It would be a river of blood.”

“What do you think?” Corvo said to me. “Are you really smart enough to understand what Mr. White is saying?”

It sounded like a conversation they’d already had, in the past, more than once, and it took me right back to what Janet Long had told me. These guys weren’t from the cartels, but they’d been shown the light. This is how you do your business now. No rules, no restraint. Everyone is fair game.

“Yes,” I said, figuring it was time to finally open my mouth. “I’m smart enough to understand what he’s saying.”

He kept the blade against my skin for another few seconds. Then he pulled it away. He folded the knife and put it into his pocket. He turned his chair around and looked at his compass. Then he opened up the throttle and turned the boat in a tight arc. We went racing back toward Gull Island, skimming across the waves like a smooth stone. I watched ahead, my eyes watering in the wind, wondering if the boat was still on the other side of the island. I hadn’t heard a motor, but maybe we’d been far enough away. Would they have taken the chance to escape?

A few minutes later, Corvo pulled up short of the inlet and drifted in, just as he had the first time. The side of his boat knocked against the jet ski and sent it drifting toward shore.

Corvo killed the engine. Then he reached into a side compartment and brought up a first-aid box. He opened it and took out a large, sterile pad. He opened the paper wrapping and gave it to me, careful not to touch the pad itself.

“Here,” he said. “Put this on your face. You need to take care of that.”

I didn’t move. I felt the blood all down the left side of my face now.

“We’ve already established you’re not a fool,” he said. “Don’t act like one.”

I took the pad from him. I pressed it to my face.

“I’m giving you this.” He took out his wallet and extracted a business card. Then he picked up my wallet and put the card inside. “You call that number and let me know when I should expect you. I’m giving you exactly forty-eight hours. You bring them both down and you turn them over to me. Then you drive away. You’ll never see me again.”

I took the wallet from him.

“I’ve been a little out of my head the past few days,” he said. “You should be glad that Mr. White came up with such a sensible plan. But please, Mr. McKnight, remember everything he said. The Indians are already dead. There’s nothing else you can do. So please don’t disappoint me. Don’t make me come find all of you.”

I kept sitting there, thinking it through. If I play along, I buy us some time, at least. Enough time to do what? I don’t even know yet. But at least we have a chance to think of something.

“We’d like to get back before it’s dark,” he said. “So I’ll say goodbye now. I’ll talk to you in forty-eight hours. Please don’t make it forty-nine.”

I got up, still holding the pad against my cheek. I jumped over the rail, right into the water. It was up to my waist. I went to the jet ski, cursing myself that I hadn’t kept the gun. I could have hidden it in the front compartment, taken it out right now, and shot both of them.

But no. Even as I thought that, I heard Corvo starting his motor and then pulling away. As I turned, I saw them leaving the inlet, then gunning as they hit the open water. It seemed like Mr. White was looking back at me, but it was hard to tell with the sunglasses. He certainly didn’t wave.

I climbed onto the jet ski and started it. If Corvo circles the island now, I thought, then this will all be a moot point. White would gun them all down and then they’d come back and finish me off, too. I went out into the open water and turned around the north end of the island, wondering exactly what I’d see.

One boat. Not two.

I pulled up alongside the boat and grabbed on to the gunwale. As I pulled myself up onto the deck, I saw Buck on the bench in the galley, holding his head in his hands. Vinnie was still lying on the floor. The zip ties had been cut from his hands and ankles. He was untied from the table post. But his eyes weren’t open. At that moment, he honestly looked more dead than alive. Lou was sitting on the other bench, watching his son.

“We have to get him somewhere for help,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

Then he looked at my face.

“What happened?” he said. “You’re bleeding bad.”

I ignored him, trying the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered once and then came to life. I pulled up the anchor and turned us out of the inlet. The jet ski would have to stay right where it was.

When we were in the open water, I pushed the throttle all the way forward. It wasn’t a cigarette boat, but it would have to do.

“Just stay alive,” Lou said, holding Vinnie’s hand. “We finally found you, but you have to stay alive.”