“You must demonstrate your allegiance to Lake Harmony’s program.”
As I look longingly toward the Canadian shore and try to judge the distance, a heavy dose of disappointment weighs down my shoulders. There’s no way I’ll get there. That police boat is ten times faster than this old aluminum skiff. In no time it pulls within a dozen yards of us. There are three officers aboard, all wearing black bulletproof vests. The younger two prop M19s on their hips. The older officer, probably the captain of the boat, holds a cocked forty-five-caliber semi-automatic. These guys mean business.
“Hands on your heads,” the captain orders. “You take that boat without permission?”
“What’s the story?” the captain asks.
“The young lady and I are bounty hunters,” Harry reports with forced calmness. “We work for Lake Harmony a school that specializes in—”
“I know what Lake Harmony is.” The captain cuts him short.
“We were hired to apprehend this young man and bring him back.”
“Then why is he driving the boat?” the captain asks.
Harry goes into his folksy, friendly act. “With all due respect, sir, the young lady and I are awful cold. If you’d like to bring us in, I’ll be glad to explain.”
At the police station it takes hours to straighten things out. Don, the owner of the boat, has arrived. He’s a large man with a deep, bellowing voice like a bull’s. His demands for restitution for the skiff that sank reverberate through the building. A lot of phone calls go back and forth between the police and Lake Harmony and between Harry and Lake Harmony.
At one point, while Harry and the police are in an office on a speakerphone to Lake Harmony, Rebecca and I are left alone on a wooden bench in the hall. My flip-flops are gone; my feet are bare. They’ve given Rebecca a pair of gray sweatpants and a navy-blue hoodie with ALEXANDRIA BAY PD printed in white letters.
“Nice outfit. Think you’ll get to keep it?” I ask.
Rebecca shakes her head. “My stuff is in the laundry room drying. Soon as it’s ready, I’ll have to give these things back.”
“Too bad. It could be a souvenir, you know?”
We share a smile. Rebecca tugs at the drawstring on the sweatshirt’s hood. “Can I ask you a question? Why did you do it? You could have gotten away.”
“You and Harry would have died.”
A telephone rings somewhere. Two police officers come down the hall carrying cardboard Pizza Hut boxes. Neither one looks at Rebecca or me. The smell of the pizza reminds me of how long it’s been since I ate a real meal.
“Do you know what’s going to happen when you go back?” Rebecca asks.
I slowly nod my head yes.
Rebecca turns away and doesn’t look at me again.
It’s close to midnight when we finally leave the police station. A thin crescent moon hangs in the black sky. The ground is icy under my bare feet.
“Turn around,” Harry orders.
“Why?” I ask.
The answer is his hand on my shoulder, roughly spinning me. He yanks my arms behind my back, and I feel hard metal handcuffs close around my wrists. I guess since I wasn’t formally charged with a crime, the police didn’t feel the need to restrain me. But out here in the cold night air it’s a different story. Holding my arm, Harry leads me to the rental car and shoves me into the back, then slams the door.
As we drive through the dark, I wonder where Pauly and Sarah are. I’d like to think they’ve found a friendly, sympathetic doctor who’s taken them in and fixed their ailments. I picture them huddled in warm wool blankets, sitting at an old wooden table feasting on steaming bowls of hearty soup and recounting the incredible story of their escape. It would make a nice movie. There’s a happy ending, the good guys get away … well, two out of three good guys, at least.
Harry looks in the rearview mirror and sees the twisted smirk on my face. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know. The irony, I guess.”
“What irony?”
“That I’m here all over again,” I explain. “In the backseat of a car with you guys. My hands cuffed behind my back and going numb. Needing to use the bathroom and knowing you’ll never believe me. It’s like nothing’s changed.”
“Just wait till you get back to Lake Harmony, partner. Plenty’s gonna change for you,” Harry says ominously. Rebecca looks over the seat at me, then turns to Harry. “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”
“Don’t start that again.”
“He saved us.”
“Lucky for us and too bad for him.”
“You know it’s not right.”
Harry doesn’t answer. We ride in silence down the straight, dark, two-lane road, the endless stream of yellow dashes disappearing in front of us.
It’s the middle of the night when we return to Lake Harmony. Harry drives through the front gate and up to the administration building. While he’s parking the car, Joe and the troll come down the steps. Without saying hello to Harry or Rebecca, Joe opens the back door, reaches in, and yanks me out.
“Welcome home,” he growls, and punches me in the stomach as hard as he can.