Read Online Copper River by William Kent Krueger - Free Book Online

hunger for vengeance. The idea of a hit, Cork could handle. What worried him most was that Jacoby, in his craziness, might turn his anger toward Jo or the children. In which case, abandoning them might turn out to be the worst thing he could have done.
    Cork hammered his fist against the mattress. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to be in the same room with the son of a bitch. Didn’t matter that Jacoby was old: Cork would have loved the chance to beat some sense into him. Instead he lay there helpless, battling two enemies he couldn’t lay a finger on: uncertainty and rage.
    Christ, how fucked was that?
    The door creaked. He glanced over, expecting Ren with breakfast. It wasn’t.
    “Dina,” he said.
    The woman who had saved his life on two separate occasions was not very tall. She stood five-four on tiptoe, weighed maybe 120 pounds. She had light brown hair, green eyes, and a face no less lovely than the best Hollywood had to offer. Her name was Dina Willner. She called herself a security consultant, a term that covered a lot of ground.
    “Where’d you come from?” he asked. “I didn’t hear a car.”
    She looked the cabin over carefully, stepped inside. “I parked in town and walked through the woods. Didn’t want anyone to see me coming here. Also, I wanted to be able to reconnoiter a little first.” She crossed to his bunk, looked down at him, shook her head. “Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I? How’s the leg?”
    “Healing. Or so my cousin, the vet, says.”
    “Were you a good patient, and did you get a doggie biscuit?” Her eyes flicked toward the door. “I saw a woman drive away. Her?”
    “Jewell, yeah.”
    “Who else is here?”
    “Her son.”
    “Guests?”
    “They don’t rent out the cabins anymore.”
    “Shame. Nice place.” She went to the table, grabbed a chair, and placed it next to Cork’s bunk. “So, what’s the story?”
    “I screwed up.”
    “I figured. How?”
    “After you left me in Evanston, I hitched a ride north, went up to Kenosha, Wisconsin. I wanted to make sure I was clear of any kind of net that Jacoby’s goons had thrown around the North Shore of Chicago. I checked into a fleabag motel there, place called the Lake Inn. First thing I did was use some of the money you gave me to get a set of wheels.”
    “The shot-up, piss-colored Dart behind the shed?”
    “That would be the one.”
    “How’d it get shot up?”
    “I’m coming to that.” He shifted and grimaced from the pain it caused his leg. “I called Jo at her sister’s place.”
    “Big mistake.”
    “I know. The phone must’ve been tapped.”
    “I could have told you that.”
    “Next time I’ll be sure to ask.”
    “How long before the goons showed up?”
    “They waited until dark. I’d gone out to get some dinner. They tried the hit as soon as I came back and got out of the car.”
    “The motel lot?”
    “Yeah, pretty public. The car got the worst of it, but I took a bullet in my leg.”
    She shook her head. “Amateurs. But with half a million on your head, even my grandmother would be tempted.” She gave an admiring look. “You drove all the way here with a bullet hole through your leg? That’s a good eight hours.”
    “I used my sweatshirt as a compress to stop the bleeding. After that it was a matter of gritting my teeth and hoping shock didn’t set in. Amazing what you can do when you’re motivated. Like running for your life.”
    “Why didn’t you head back to Minnesota?”
    “I figured they’d be watching for me there.”
    “You’re probably right. Lucky you had family to fall back on up here.”
    “My cousin doesn’t think so.”
    “How soon before you can move?”
    “I can move now, just not very far or very fast.”
    “On my way into town, I saw a sign: Home of the Bobcats. 1980 Class C State Football Champions. A place like this is dead center in the middle of nowhere. You’re four hundred miles from Chicago. Who would think to look for you here? You