Page 76 of God’s Country

I shook my head. “I’m afraid some other unsuspecting canoeist may come by and end up dead like the guy on Big Woman.”

“What do you intend to do?” the second woman asked.

“Keep an eye on them until the cavalry arrives. I’m hoping you might help with that.”

“How?”

“Do you have a satphone?”

“No,” the first woman said. “When we’re in the Boundary Waters, we want to be here completely. We leave our cell phones locked in our car so we won’t be tempted, and reception is almost nonexistent anyway. We’ve never had any kind of emergency that would justify the expense of a satphone.”

“When and where did you make your entry?”

“Two days ago on Half Moon Lake.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you be willing to head back tomorrow and get word to the authorities about where these men are now?”

They took a moment to gaze at each other as if in silent conversation, then the first woman said, “I don’t see how we can say no. But it’ll still be two days before we make it out. Will you be okay? I mean, these guys have a gun. Do you have any kind of weapon at all?”

“A hatchet.”

“Against a gun?” She shook her head. “I bet you wish you’d just stayed in Aurora serving up Waaboo burgers.”

Her name, I found out, was Louisa, but she called herself Lou. Her wife’s name was Johanna. They were from St. Paul, here to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. They’d first met while canoeing the Boundary Waters, and it was tradition that they celebrate every anniversary with a return to this wilderness. They fed me apple chips and a granola bar and some jerky, then offered me a blanket to sleep on, which I gratefully accepted. Lou doused what was left of the fire with water, stirred the ashes to be certain every ember was dead. Then they retired to their tent and I lay down on my blanket.

Since I’d entered the Boundary Waters, every day had been a trial. I was tired. I was also sore from the kicks and blows Ollie had delivered to me over much of that time. I was aware, too, that I smelled pretty bad, but the pair of women had made no mention of this. Politeness, I figured.

I wondered about Cordell and Tucker and Leticia. I hoped that they’d all made it safely out of the Boundary Waters. I’d tried my best to give them a chance. Which was far more than I’d done with the man Ollie had shot on Big Woman Lake. That was a failure I figured would haunt me forever.

The northern lights had faded to almost nothing, but the moon was as bright as a new silver dollar. Exhausted and aching, I lay looking up at the heavens. Before I’d freed myself that night, I’d accepted that, despite the vision I had as a drowning teenager, I was probably a dead man. But I wasn’t. I’d bested the Kennedy brothers. Now I was thinking about what was ahead for me. Tired as I was, I felt a wolf still prowling around my heart. A hungry wolf. Until those two men were picked up and put behind bars, where they belonged, I promised myself that I would continue to feast on their misery.

CHAPTER 42

Despite the late night we’d spent together, the women were up early, at first light. Although I’d slept on a blanket on hard ground, I felt better rested than I had in days. Freedom will do that. Lou and Johanna prepared a breakfast of oatmeal with nuts and dried fruit, and we ate watching the sun begin to peek above the trees across the channel. They loaned me their binoculars, and I scoped out the Kennedy brothers’ campsite. Nothing moving.

“What are you going to do?” Lou asked.

“Lurk mostly,” I told her. “Keep out of sight, but keep an eye on them, make sure no one comes near their campsite.”

“What do you think they’ll do when they find out you’ve taken their canoe?” Johanna asked.

“Go berserk at first, I’m sure. Then God only knows. They don’t have a map. They don’t know the territory. I can’t imagine they’ll try to make it to Canada on their own. If they do, I’ll follow them.”

“We can leave you food,” Johanna said.

“I have plenty,” I assured them and pointed to the food canister I’d taken from the brothers.

“You can keep the binoculars. And I can leave you the blanket,” Lou said. “I’d give you my sleeping bag, but honestly, I’ll need it.”

“You both have been more than generous. Just get out as fast as you can and get the word out about Lost Man Lake and those two sons of bitches over there.”

By the time the women shoved off in their canoe, the sun was fully up. Lou and Johanna headed west, keeping the island between them and the Kennedy brothers so they wouldn’t be seen. They swore that if they came across anyone else heading my way, they’d warn them. It would take them all of that day and most of the next to reach their entry point and their cell phones. Two days at the very least before anyone with a badge and a gun would arrive to deal with the situation.

In addition to the binoculars and blanket, they left me matches, a tarp for shelter if it rained, and a mess kit. I decided to make the campsite my outpost for observing the Kennedys. There was a path that others before me had worn to a point of land about fifty yards from the campsite with a good view east and west on that part of Lost Man Lake. I would be able to see canoeists approaching from both directions and, if I paddled hard, could intercept them before they blundered into the two dangerous men.

I set myself up in the shade of a white pine, watching as the morning wore on and the Kennedy brothers continued to snooze away in their tent. For Stan to sleep through the grunts and snores that came from his brother, I figured he had to have been really exhausted, his body feeling tortured. Good. I wanted them both to feel like they’d been in hell, because I was still sore from the beatings Ollie had delighted in giving me.

Even though we’d made a kind of connection, I was including Stan in my animosity. He blamed his brother for so much, but he was guilty too, because in the end he always buckled, always gave in to Ollie. Was it weakness? A brotherly bond? It didn’t matter. The result was the same. People were hurt. People died.