Heart of Ice

51

Louis rubbed his fingers and picked up the pen again. Eight days, and although the blisters had gone down, he still had a burning sensation. The doctor assured him he would get feeling back, but some mornings it was so bad he had to have Joe button his shirt. Still, some things he had to do for himself.

He stared at the picture on the front of the postcard-Mackinac Island’s Arch Rock-turned it over, and began to write.

Dear Lily,

My job here is finished. You’ll be happy to know that the girl’s bones went home today. Chief Flowers was on TV like a big star. He said to say hi. I’ll be going home soon and

He felt Joe’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at her. She read what he had written and smiled.

“You want a beer?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Something warm.”

She ran a light hand over his hair and moved away. He watched her as she pulled the coffee can from the cupboard, then he went back to writing the postcard. When he was done he opened the desk drawer, looking for a stamp. His eye caught the spot of black fur at his feet.

“What do you want?” he asked.

The little black dog was sitting there looking up at him.

“Joe!”

“What?”

“It’s staring at me again.”

“Just ignore her.”

Louis gave the dog a gentle push of his socked foot.

Except for its tail swishing on the floor, the dog didn’t move. The thing hadn’t been here when Louis visited over the holidays. Joe told him one of her men found the dog when he went to check up on an elderly woman who didn’t show up for her job as a crossing guard. He found the lady dead in her bed of natural causes, the dog lying across her feet. Joe had agreed to take it in until someone found it a home.

Louis had laughed the first time he saw it and called it a purse dog. Joe had to remind him that her last dog was a big yellow stray named Chips who had survived a knife attack. And besides, she told him, I get lonely sometimes out here by myself.

The dog-no name yet-was still looking up at him.

“Go away,” he whispered.

It didn’t move. With a sigh Louis went back to looking for a stamp. Finally he gave up and rose, going to the window.

The snow was heaped high in the front yard of Joe’s cabin. This morning she had gone out and shoveled a path to her police SUV and the mailbox out by the road, but it was still coming down. It was probably worse over on the island.

Louis reached into his pocket and pulled out the get-well card that had come in the morning’s mail. It was from Chief Flowers, though Louis was sure Carol had had something to do with it. He suspected the chief didn’t even know she had included a short letter. In it she thanked him for saving her husband’s life and told him that they were working on trying to get back together.

Louis pushed his glasses up his nose and read the rest.

Jack’s changed. We both have. I guess that’s what getting older does to you, makes you look at things different. Jack says you and your lady manage a long-distance relationship. Maybe we can do it, too. We want to try at least.

Louis took off his glasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket along with the card. The second time Flowers had visited him in the hospital he hadn’t mentioned anything about reconciling with Carol. But he had said that he wanted to stay on as the island’s police chief. It was where he belonged, he said. Besides, he had made a promise to Danny Dancer.

Dancer was now in a hospital in Escanaba, thanks to a plea agreement initiated by Flowers. With some time and medication there was a good chance Dancer might return to his cabin, and Flowers had promised him that it-and all his animal skulls-would be there when he got back.

The cottage was filling up with the smell of coffee. And bacon frying. Omelets for lunch again. It was the only thing Joe could make with any reliability.

The phone rang in the kitchen, and he heard Joe answer. A moment later, she came into the living room.

“It’s for you,” she said.

“Who is it?”

“Mark Steele.”

Louis just stood there, his brain tumbling with questions. Rafsky, he thought, Rafsky had set this up.

“You going to take it?” Joe asked softly.

Louis went into the kitchen and picked up the receiver from the counter.

“This is Kincaid.”

Joe was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him. He kept his eyes on her face as he listened to Mark Steele. He said little, offering an occasional yes or no. Finally he hung up.

“What did he want?” Joe asked.

“He said he’s taking the red flag off my file,” Louis said. “I’m free to work in Michigan if someone makes me an offer.”

Joe raised an eyebrow.

“Rafsky must have talked to him,” Louis said.

Joe hesitated. “Do you want to work here again?”

Louis held her eyes for a moment, then went to the coffeemaker on the counter. He poured himself a cup and spent a long time stirring in three packs of sugar. He couldn’t get his fingers through the mug handle, so he gripped it with both hands.

“Louis?”

He turned to the window over the sink and looked out. The snow was deep and wide. Nothing but a clean white canvas stretching as far as he could see.

“Louis,” Joe said. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

He turned to her. “I love you.”