Chapter 31
Canada, Twenty-Eight Years Ago
“Gimme,” said the boy, his hand palm up. He chewed and swallowed the raw liver with so much gusto Chepi was afraid he might choke. “Don’t eat so fast. Chew carefully.”
“Gimme more,” the boy stared at his mother, his eyes empty as a ghost’s. “I’m hungry. Gimme meat.”
“No,” said Chepi. “We have to save some for later.”
“I’m hungry. Gimme more. Now!”
“You can have some tomorrow…”
Northern California, Present Time
Monday came far too fast for Maggie. The swelling around her mouth and cheek subsided, her bruises turned from purple to green, and she felt human again, but she wasn’t in the mood to hunt a killer today. She would have loved nothing more than to remain buried to her chin under her down comforter with a good book, a mug filled to the brim with coffee and brandy, and a Claddagh’s Choice CD playing on the stereo. Instead she kicked off the covers, stood and pulled on her new robe. After that thing with Mingan, she’d cut her old favorite blue one into shreds, and burned it in her fireplace, one piece at a time. She took a rare trip to Redding to buy a plush burgundy dressing gown, so soft and abundant she could disappear forever into its folds. She spent a fortune on it, but it was worth every cent. The only bit of cheer in her life this morning, besides her new cuddly robe, was knowing Mingan Metchitehew was locked up tight.
After coffee, she showered, dressed, and braided her hair twisting a thick rubber band around the end. She grabbed a piece of peanut butter toast and put down bowls of food for the dog and cat. “You two be good while I’m gone, and no hassling the hens, Chester. If you stress them, we won’t get any eggs.”
She stepped out onto the front porch as Happy pulled into the driveway. Her truck was in the body shop. Insurance covered most of the damage, but the cost of the custom paint job was astronomical, and would take additional time.
“Hi,” she said as she climbed into his car. “How are Rosa and the kids?”
“Good. Thanks for asking. So, Jake tells me you found out something interesting about our killer that points to Mingan?”
“Sort of. It’s a psychosis specific to the Algonquin people. Has to do with cannibalism.”
A raucous noise interrupted their conversation. Dozens of ravens descended from the sky in a dark mass towards Happy’s car, diving again and again making knocking and cawing noises. By a scant inch, a few missed crashing head on into the windshield, veering off at the last second.
“Why do they do that?” Happy said.
“I don’t know. Maybe ravens are territorial and think they’re protecting their land. It’s weird.”
“What’s weird is your thing with the ravens. Why not sparrows? Or jays? What’s with the ravens?”
“I think it’s because I feed them. Maybe they think I’m their mama.”
Happy tapped the steering wheel. “So tell me about this cannibal Algonquin stuff.”
“Let’s wait until we get into the office. I want Jake to hear about this, too.”
“Mingan’s our guy.”
“I don’t know, Happy. There’s something not right about this…I mean, there is a possibility that Mingan is who we are looking for, sure, but I’ve got a feeling…”
“It’s Mingan.”
“You don’t know that. We have lots of pieces to pull together still. I’m not convinced it’s him.”
“He’s Algonquin. He’s tall. He fits the profile in other ways, too. We already know he can be violent. And now you’ve discovered something about cannibals relating specifically to his culture. Besides, look at what he did to you. Don’t you hate that guy, anyway?”
“Yes, I do. That doesn’t mean he’s a serial killer, and there are many native people in Wild River County. Who says that Mingan is the only Algonquin?”
Happy did not smile this morning. He gripped the steering wheel with such force the color of his knuckles drained to white.
“What’s up? You aren’t yourself. Did you and Rosa have a fight this morning?” she asked.
“No, dammit. It’s that I think we’ve got our murderer in jail right now and you’re so stubborn, so dense, you can’t see what’s right under your nose.”
“Whoa, Happy. What the hell is wrong with you? Has the entire human race gone crazy lately?”
Happy’s face reddened, and looked out the driver’s side window. A driver approaching the other way leaned into his horn. In the split second that Happy had taken his eyes off the road, he’d veered over the double yellow line directly into the path of oncoming traffic. He jerked his wheel to avoid getting them both turned into meat pudding by a logging truck. His pickup spun 180 degrees on the wet asphalt, and when they came to rest, both Happy and Maggie hyperventilated. “Damn, that was close,” Happy said.
As he passed them, the driver of the logging truck extending his middle finger out the window. Happy took a deep breath, turned his car around, and drove on. “Maggie, are you okay? I’m sorry about that.”
“Keep your eyes on the road. We are lucky we didn’t go off the cliff, or get hit from behind. If you want to risk your own life, fine, but don’t risk mine.” Maggie struggled to catch her breath.
“Sorry, Mag. I hate Mingan for what he did to you, and I guess this whole thing with this kid killer is starting to get to me. I’m worried about my family, and if Mingan is not our guy we aren’t any closer to catching this psycho than we were when we started looking.”
“You don’t have twins. I don’t think you need to worry.”
“I just want all this over with. Forgive me?”
*
When Maggie had driven to the station the day before to report the vandalism, Jake promised her he’d find out who damaged her truck.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said. “You’ve got my word on it.”
A day later Jake arrested the two church bumpkins who were hanging around The Dandelion the afternoon Maggie’s truck had been vandalized. They confessed.
“I told them that ruining your truck wasn’t very Christian of them, and that’s when the guys started in on the fire and brimstone garbage. I told them if they didn’t stop spouting Bible passages at me, I was going to lock ‘em up for good,” Jake said.
“Thanks for keeping your promise to find them.” Maggie loved that Jake was always there for her when things weren’t going well, and she felt bad that she sometimes was snappish and bristly with him.
Happy offered her rides until her truck was repaired so she wouldn’t have to rent a car. “It’ll give us time to talk about the case.”
*
That night, Maggie, tired to the marrow, walked into the cabin and headed for the booze cabinet, not even greeting Sally.
“Bad day?” Sally asked.
“Actually, other than being a bit wiped, and Happy nearly killing us with some bad driving this morning, my day was decent, but after a little fortification...” she opened a brandy, poured two fingers worth into a water glass and downed it in one swallow, “…I’ve got a phone call to make to my brother. She picked up her cell and dialed Danny’s number.
Sally smiled at Maggie. “That’s my girl.”
“Is there any way I can meet with you, Cathy and Jimmy?” she said to her brother.
Danny sighed into the mouthpiece. “C’mon, Maggie.”
“I need to talk. I’m doing my best to make things right. Please, Danny. I miss you and everybody. It’s been weeks. I want to see Flower and Bird.”
“You’ll have to talk to Jimmy about that. It’s up to him if he wants you around the girls.”
“Please. Can you get everyone together as a family? Sally says she’ll drive me over.”
“Oh, that’s right…I heard about the Chevy. Sorry about that.” Danny was quiet for a moment. “You’re okay after what Mingan did to you? We were all concerned. You know we called the hospital. Cathy and I wanted to see you, but…”
“Thanks for asking. I’m good. Can we make this happen, I mean…with the family? Sally will entertain the kids while we talk. Give me a chance, please?”
“Let me check with Cathy.” Danny called to his wife. “Maggie wants to come over to talk with us and Jimmy. Do you have any objections?”
“Of course not, Danny. She’s your sister, and I don’t want no bad blood with family. I’ll make us some dinner.”
“Okay, sis. Tomorrow night, then. I’ll call Jimmy. What time can you be here?”
*
Maggie bid good night to Sally, and climbed under her comforter so spent she hadn’t even bothered to brush her teeth. Chester curled into a dog ball on the comforter next to her, Samantha stretched herself across a pillow. Tomorrow, after work she’d make things right with Danny and Jimmy. Maggie scratched the hound between the ears. “Hey, Chester. We’ll get to see Bird and Flower again. How ‘bout that, boy?”
She drifted off to sleep, and then the phone rang. “Hello.”
Silence.
“Who’s there? If that’s you Mingan, I’m getting a…”
“It’s me, daughter.”
“Mom? Oh, shit. I have to be dreaming. What the hell…”
“You know I don’t like that kinda talk. I taught you respect. You listen to me, girl. You have to pay attention. You have to know who you are. No more foolin’ around.”