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Authors: William Kent Krueger
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everyone said, and shook their heads helplessly.
Cork should have spent the day getting Sam’s Place ready for the summer. Sam’s Place was an old Quonset hut on the shore of Iron Lake just outside the official limits of Aurora. Long ago, an Ojibwe named Sam Winter Moon had converted it to a burger and shake joint that had become popular with both locals and summer visitors. When Winter Moon died, he’d passed the place to Cork, who’d been like a son. Normally, Cork opened in May, on the day of the fishing opener, and didn’t close until mid-November. In that time, he grilled thousands of burgers and hot dogs and served up a sea of shakes and soft drinks. His children worked with him, and that was the aspect of the operation he loved most. This year Annie would be there from the beginning—working on weekends and around her school softball schedule—with some of her friends hired to help. Come June, Jenny would be home from college for the summer and she’d work, too. Stevie often helped out as well, though much of his time was spent hanging out on the old dock with Trixie, fishing for bluegills and sunnies.
At the moment, Cork’s mind wasn’t on Sam’s Place. It was working in the old mode, the cop mode, asking questions and probing dark corners for answers.
He passed the Buzz Saw and didn’t see Buck Reinhardt’s truck in the parking lot. He didn’t see it at Tanner’s or at the casino. When he came to the turnoff to Skinner Lake, he took it and headed toward Reinhardt’s home.
Elise answered the door. She looked different from the night before. Not happy exactly, but less aggressively angry. She was wearing makeup again. From behind her came the sound of music. Soft jazz. She had a drink in her hand. From the smell and the lime wedge among the ice cubes, Cork guessed it was a gin and tonic.
“Still looking for Buck?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not much point in it now, is there? Kingbird’s dead. Doesn’t matter anyway. Buck’s not here. Check the bars.”
“I passed the Buzz Saw. Didn’t see him there, either.”
“He told me they kicked him out last night. Buck’s a grudge holder. It’ll be a while before he gives them his business again.”
“What time did he get home last night?”
She stiffened up and her face seemed to prepare itself for anger. “The sheriff’s people asked the same question. Look, Buck got home maybe fifteen minutes after you left. He came straight home from the Buzz Saw. After that he was here with me all night. So if you’re thinking he killed the Kingbirds, think again.” She took a drink from the glass in her hand.
Cork said, “You know that it wasn’t Alex Kingbird who sold the stuff that got Kristi high.”
“He wasn’t just an innocent bystander, either.”
“Rayette was.”
“She chose her man.”
“As did you.” They stared at each other. Cork said, “Suppose the Red Boyz go hunting for a little justice of their own now, Elise. You want to be right there beside your husband when the bullets start flying?”
“I can handle a rifle.”
“Let’s hope your hands aren’t taped and your back isn’t turned.” He knew it was over the top, and he reined himself in. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“You bet it was.”
The door banged shut in his face, and he turned to leave. Before he reached his Bronco, another vehicle came up the road and pulled into the drive. Cork waited while it came to a stop beside his own. Dave Reinhardt killed the engine and stepped out. The vehicle was a police cruiser from Yellow Lake, where Dave was the chief.
David Reinhardt was Buck’s youngest child from his first marriage. The other children from that marriage had scattered, and Cork couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen any of them back in Tamarack County. Alone among them, Dave Reinhardt had elected to stay. He’d attended the University of Minnesota at Duluth, then done his police training in Minneapolis, where he’d served for four
Cork should have spent the day getting Sam’s Place ready for the summer. Sam’s Place was an old Quonset hut on the shore of Iron Lake just outside the official limits of Aurora. Long ago, an Ojibwe named Sam Winter Moon had converted it to a burger and shake joint that had become popular with both locals and summer visitors. When Winter Moon died, he’d passed the place to Cork, who’d been like a son. Normally, Cork opened in May, on the day of the fishing opener, and didn’t close until mid-November. In that time, he grilled thousands of burgers and hot dogs and served up a sea of shakes and soft drinks. His children worked with him, and that was the aspect of the operation he loved most. This year Annie would be there from the beginning—working on weekends and around her school softball schedule—with some of her friends hired to help. Come June, Jenny would be home from college for the summer and she’d work, too. Stevie often helped out as well, though much of his time was spent hanging out on the old dock with Trixie, fishing for bluegills and sunnies.
At the moment, Cork’s mind wasn’t on Sam’s Place. It was working in the old mode, the cop mode, asking questions and probing dark corners for answers.
He passed the Buzz Saw and didn’t see Buck Reinhardt’s truck in the parking lot. He didn’t see it at Tanner’s or at the casino. When he came to the turnoff to Skinner Lake, he took it and headed toward Reinhardt’s home.
Elise answered the door. She looked different from the night before. Not happy exactly, but less aggressively angry. She was wearing makeup again. From behind her came the sound of music. Soft jazz. She had a drink in her hand. From the smell and the lime wedge among the ice cubes, Cork guessed it was a gin and tonic.
“Still looking for Buck?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Not much point in it now, is there? Kingbird’s dead. Doesn’t matter anyway. Buck’s not here. Check the bars.”
“I passed the Buzz Saw. Didn’t see him there, either.”
“He told me they kicked him out last night. Buck’s a grudge holder. It’ll be a while before he gives them his business again.”
“What time did he get home last night?”
She stiffened up and her face seemed to prepare itself for anger. “The sheriff’s people asked the same question. Look, Buck got home maybe fifteen minutes after you left. He came straight home from the Buzz Saw. After that he was here with me all night. So if you’re thinking he killed the Kingbirds, think again.” She took a drink from the glass in her hand.
Cork said, “You know that it wasn’t Alex Kingbird who sold the stuff that got Kristi high.”
“He wasn’t just an innocent bystander, either.”
“Rayette was.”
“She chose her man.”
“As did you.” They stared at each other. Cork said, “Suppose the Red Boyz go hunting for a little justice of their own now, Elise. You want to be right there beside your husband when the bullets start flying?”
“I can handle a rifle.”
“Let’s hope your hands aren’t taped and your back isn’t turned.” He knew it was over the top, and he reined himself in. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“You bet it was.”
The door banged shut in his face, and he turned to leave. Before he reached his Bronco, another vehicle came up the road and pulled into the drive. Cork waited while it came to a stop beside his own. Dave Reinhardt killed the engine and stepped out. The vehicle was a police cruiser from Yellow Lake, where Dave was the chief.
David Reinhardt was Buck’s youngest child from his first marriage. The other children from that marriage had scattered, and Cork couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen any of them back in Tamarack County. Alone among them, Dave Reinhardt had elected to stay. He’d attended the University of Minnesota at Duluth, then done his police training in Minneapolis, where he’d served for four
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