“Yes.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I thought he was going to. Then I blacked out.” Annie closed her eyes a moment. Her head no longer hurt, but she felt exhausted, drained. It was like that after an episode. “Where’s Stephen?”
“I don’t know,” Maria said. “We got separated.”
“I need to be going.” Deputy Carlson peered with real concern into Annie’s eyes. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes,” Annie said. “And thank you.”
The deputy hesitated a moment before leaving. “Look,” he said to them. “Not everyone wearing a badge thinks what’s going on here is right. I’m concerned about our environment too. It’s just… well, I’ve got a job and a duty.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Maria said.
Deputy Carlson tipped the brim of his hat, then left the birch trees.
Now Annie could hear more clearly the sound of voices, distant, still raised in shouts of protest.
“It’s not over?” she asked.
“For you it is. We’ll find the others and get you home.”
“My shoulder bag,” Annie said, suddenly remembering.
“It’s here.” Maria gave it to her, then took her hand to help her up.
But Annie didn’t move. “I was a star athlete in high school. Did you know that, Maria? I wanted to be the first female pitcher for the Minnesota Twins. Now look at me. I can’t do anything without stumbling or blacking out.”
Maria kissed the top of her head. “You are strong. And you are beautiful.”
“I don’t feel that way.”
“It is how I see you. It is how I will always see you. Come.”
But before Annie could rise, she had a sudden realization that made her grip Maria’s hand fiercely. “Lewis,” she said.
“What about him?”
“Maybe he was the one in the truck outside our house last night.” She looked up into Maria’s dark eyes and felt herself go rigid with a combination of rising anger and deep concern. “There’s nothing but hatred in that man. If it was him, he knows who we are and he knows where we live.”
CHAPTER 22
It was early afternoon when Cork headed back to Aurora. Jenny wanted to stay with her son, so Cork left Crow Point the way he’d come, in the company of Theresa Lee.
“Did you get what you needed?” he asked as they walked the long path to the double-trunk birch.
“There’s something unique about that place. It comforts the soul.”
“Henry says it’s always been that way, the reason it called to his spirit in the first place.”
“Your grandson seems happy there. Which is good. He has a lot he’ll have to deal with in his life. I hope Henry stays alive long enough to help guide him.”
Cork smiled. “We all hope Henry will live forever.”
They were quiet for a long while, letting the feel of the woods, the calling of the birds, the sunlit darting of insects fill their senses. The walk to and from Crow Point had always been a time of contemplation for Cork.
“Your little Waaboo told me that Fawn is still trying to find her way to cross to the other side,” Theresa said.
“Still looking for the Path of Souls.”
“Even though I’m Ojibwe, I admit that I’ve always thought the idea of actually crossing to the other side, walking some spiritual path, was just a metaphor. Now I wonder. And I think about Fawn, whoever she is, or was, and it saddens me to think of her as lost.”
“I’ve been to a lot of burial ceremonies, traditional Anishinaabe, Catholic, Protestant. They all have one thing in common, it seems to me. They help us say goodbye. Part of it, I’m sure, is just support in our grieving and a way to move on. But I’ve always thought that there is this something that connects us to the spirit of the dead, this something that assures us of a life beyond this world, a better existence. If my grandson is somehow more in touch with that something, maybe he can help lost souls like Fawn.” Cork took a deep breath. “It is, as Henry said, a heavy burden for the little guy.”
Theresa reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm. “And for those who love him.”
They arrived at the double-trunk birch, and as Cork climbed into his Expedition, he got a call on his cell phone.
“Monte and I would like to have a talk with you as soon as possible,” Daniel said without preamble.
“Fine. I’m on my way back to Aurora now. Let’s meet somewhere. Not Gooseberry Lane. The news vultures could still be hovering.”
“How about the sheriff’s office?” Daniel suggested. “Marsha Dross might like to be in on this, too.”
“Where are you?”
“Driving back from the Three Rivers rez. We should be in Aurora in about an hour.”
“I’ll call Marsha and meet you there.”
He dropped Theresa Lee at her home, then just to satisfy his curiosity, he headed to Gooseberry Lane and paused at the intersection up the block from his house. There were no media vans in evidence, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t still staked out somewhere waiting to pounce. He drove on.
“The body in the cabin has been officially identified as that of Olivia Hamilton. Now that she’s been found, the FBI is withdrawing their agents. From now on, BCA is in charge,” Dross told them after they’d gathered in her office. “Although they’re focused on the Hamilton girl, they’re willing to give us any help they can regarding the body in the blueberry patch. There’s still no confirmation that it’s Fawn Blacksmith. I’ve requested BCA obtain dental records, if possible, for comparison.”
“The beaded bracelet the buried girl was wearing nails it for me,” Daniel said. “Daisy Blacksmith told us she gave her granddaughter a bracelet that she’d beaded herself.”
“Of course, we’ll need to show Daisy a photo of the bracelet to confirm they’re the same,” Agent Shirley said.
“BCA should check with the North Regional Juvenile Detention Center,” Daniel said. “Fawn spent time there.”
“Also, there’s a school for problem kids where Fawn spent some time,” Monte Bonhomme threw in. “I can check with Chris Hayner, see if he knows the name of the place.”
“From everything we learned in Deer County, I think we can operate on the pretty solid assumption that it’s Fawn,” Agent Shirley said. “Except for the location of the bodies, I just can’t see a connection with the murder of Olivia Hamilton. But there’s got to be one.”
“Erno Paavola didn’t operate much with money,” Cork said. “He did a lot of bartering. If he paid me in blueberries, chances are he paid someone else in the same way.”
“So,” Dross said, looking glum, “there could be a lot of folks in Tamarack County who know about that blueberry patch.”
