“I love her,” he told me.

“That’s my whole point,” I told him.

“You love her, too.”

“I don’t even know her,” I admitted bluntly—probably for the first time.

But the sheriff hadn’t heard me. He was too busy slamming his car door, gunning the engine, and peeling out of Koehn’s parking lot, leaving a trail of exclamation points behind him.

twenty-six

“Hey, stranger.” Ginger greeted me when I entered The Height. “What can I get you?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“If you don’t mind my saying so, Taylor, you look like you could use a drink.”

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” I sighed. “Okay, give me a scotch. A double. Neat. And I’ll want to eat the glass, too.”

“Coming up.”

Ginger set the drink in front of me, and I started to sip it.

“So, have you figured out who shot Michael, yet?” she asked.

“We expect an arrest within twenty-four hours.”

“Seriously?”

“No, that’s just the stock reply to that question. Listen, is there a cab or a bus I can catch to Saginau? I need to get my car.”

“We can give you a ride.”

I turned to find Ingrid standing directly behind me, her lustrous blond hair spilling over the shoulders of a heather-gray twill wrap dress with a sweeping skirt and a neckline just deep enough to stimulate the imagination. Lonnie Cavander, the blues-singing Ojibwa, was standing next to her, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what he was wearing.

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” I told her, desperate to keep my eyes above her chest.

“No trouble,” she said. “I have to head in to see my accountant. Lonnie’s coming to keep me company.”

Lonnie smiled and gave Ingrid’s shoulders a five-second massage.

My first thought was that two’s company, three’s a crowd. But I didn’t give in to it.

“I’d appreciate it,” I said.

“Thirty minutes?” Ingrid asked.

“I’m at your convenience.”

Ingrid smiled her breathtaking smile and left through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door. Lonnie followed close behind.

A half hour later the three of us were riding in Ingrid’s white 1997 Sebring convertible. She drove at only five miles per hour above the posted speed limit, but with the top down it seemed much faster. She wore black sunglasses, and to minimize the damage to her hair, she had wrapped a black scarf over her head, knotting it tightly beneath her chin. Lonnie Cavander sat next to her. I sat in back, leaning forward and turning my head to catch their conversation over the wind.

“Do you really expect an arrest within twenty-four hours?” Ingrid asked.

I flashed on Jimmy Johannson. “It’s possible,” I said.

“Who?” Lonnie asked.

“I really shouldn’t say,” I told him. “But I doubt anyone will be surprised.”

“Not King?” Ingrid asked.

“No, not King.”

We were halfway to Saginau. The county road dipped and turned and suddenly we were motoring past The Harbor.

“I still feel awfully guilty about all this,” Ingrid said.

“Guilty about what?” I asked.

“The Harbor.”

“What about it?”

Ingrid didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her head and looked at Lonnie. Her eyes weren’t visible behind the sunglasses. Lonnie shrugged.

“You think?” Ingrid asked.

Lonnie shrugged again.

“What?” I asked, intrigued by this silent passing of information.

Ingrid’s chest rose and fell with a sigh that I couldn’t hear over the wind.

“It’s my fault,” she said.

“What?” I leaned in close so I could hear better.

“I’m the one who told Michael about The Harbor,” Ingrid confessed. “I’m the one who told her the Ojibwa were buying the civic center across the highway.”

“You?”

Ingrid nodded.

“How did you find out?”

“I told her,” Lonnie said.

“Are you privy to the tribe’s business dealings?” I asked him.

“Carroll Stonetree is my uncle,” he told me.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“My mother’s brother.”

“He told you that the Ojibwa are building a new casino?”

“Not exactly,” Lonnie answered.

“We kept that part from Michael,” Ingrid added.

“What part?”

Ingrid’s chest rose and fell again. “Michael was talking about how she wanted to become an important part of the community,” Ingrid explained. “But the way she said it, it reminded me of King. She didn’t want to become a part so much as she wanted to own a part, to run a part. And it annoyed me. I realize now that I was just being petty. I see myself as a big fish in a small pond, and I didn’t want any other big fish coming around.

“So one night we were talking and I mentioned that The Harbor would make a good investment, the kind of community investment she was looking for. I told her the Ojibwa were negotiating in secret with the Board of County. Commissioners to buy the civic center across the highway and turn it into a casino. I told her I would buy The Harbor in a heartbeat myself, only I didn’t have the money. So she bought it.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

“The Ojibwa are not going to build a new casino,” Lonnie told me. “The tribe has no intentions of expanding its gaming operations.”

“Why then—”

“The tribe is starting a company to build recreational boats,” Lonnie explained. “The civic center would make an ideal factory for it.”

“And you knew that?” I asked Ingrid.

“Lonnie told me,” she said.

“But why keep it a secret?” I wanted to know.

“Because the company will be in direct competition to King Boats, Koehn’s bread-and-butter company,” Lonnie said. “The tribe wanted to secure the civic center location before King had a chance to use his political ties to squash the deal. And the county commissioners wanted to keep it a secret because they knew if King did scuttle the deal, they’d be stuck with the civic center for all time.”

In his own obfuscated way, Chief Stonetree had told me all this the night before—but I was being too obfuscated myself to see it.

“The entire county is up in arms thinking you’re building a casino,” I reminded Lonnie.

“Think how happy the people will be when they discover that we’re not,” he said, smiling. “When people discover that we’re actually bringing honest manufacturing jobs to the region, I expect we’ll become quite popular.”

“With everyone except King Koehn,” I suggested.

“I doubt he’ll appreciate the competition,” Lonnie agreed.

“That’s why you’ve been content to allow all this casino nonsense to go on,” I figured out loud. “To keep King in the dark as long as possible.”

Lonnie nodded.

“Shrewd,” I told him.

“That’s what they’d call it if a white company made it happen. I’m real curious to hear what adjective they’ll apply to us.”

So was I.

“Then Charlie Otterness was telling the truth,” I said. “He didn’t pass insider information.”

“No,” Ingrid agreed. She added, “I feel really, really guilty about that. But everyone will know he told the truth when the Board of County Commissioners meets in formal session and the Ojibwa make their bid.”

“And Michael?”

“If she works at it, I bet she could make The Harbor go,” Ingrid predicted. “With a boat factory across the way, she’ll have a good lunch crowd if nothing else. Probably a good happy hour, too.”

“But she won’t have the business a casino would bring in,” I noted.

“I won’t, either,” Ingrid said in her defense.

I leaned back in my seat and watched the back of Ingrid’s head as she guided the Sebring into Saginau. Suddenly I didn’t like her as much as I had before. Or Lonnie. Or the chief. Suddenly I didn’t like anybody because of what they had done to Alison.

They had stolen her dream.

At least that’s how I saw it.

“Drop me at the county court building,” I instructed Ingrid. And she did.