“Hi… Joanna, right?”

She looked up but didn’t answer.

Max did his best to come across as meek. “I don’t know if you overheard the yelling…” He gave her an impish smile. “But Lyle has asked me to… well, kind of look into this mess regarding his daughter.”

Joanna looked after Bolger, probably making sure he wasn’t watching her.

“Problem is,” Max continued, “Lyle told me he moved up to Ely—so that Sandy could live at his place here—but he didn’t give me his address. Any chance you might… help me out?”

Again, Joanna looked in the direction of where Bolger had gone. Then she wrote an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Max.

“You didn’t get this from me,” she said.

CHAPTER 13

Lyle had moved to a faded brown mobile home in a park on the northern edge of Ely, a rusted air conditioner sticking out of one of the windows, wooden pallets leaning against the foundation to keep out the bears. The front stoop and stairs were metal grate and in need of a new coat of paint. Max didn’t know why he expected something different; a sheriff’s salary—and now an ex-sheriff’s pension—never made sense to Max, given the risks of the job. But men like Lyle Voight didn’t do it for the money.

The stairs squeaked enough that a knock on the door was unnecessary, but Max knocked anyway. A curtain in a nearby window moved to the side and then a lock unclicked.

“Max?” Lyle looked stumped.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

Lyle smiled at that. He opened the door and waved Max in.

The inside of the mobile home was outdated but pleasant: paneled walls, yellow kitchen cabinets, faux wooden floors, all of it kept tidy. The living room had a cloth couch and two leather chairs facing a flat-screen television mounted on the wall. Lyle patted the back of one for Max, and the two men sat.

Lyle scratched the stubble on his neck as he gave Max an appraising look. “I’m kind of surprised to see you.”

“I’m kind of surprised to be here,” Max said. “Truth is, I felt bad about how we left things yesterday. It wasn’t right of me to shut you down like that.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Max wanted to agree with Lyle, but the thought got all balled up in his chest. He owed a debt to someone, didn’t he? Wasn’t that why he still had nightmares? “I’m not sure why I’m here, or what I can do, but… a couple questions have been gnawing at me, and I was hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure.”

A woman came into the room from the hallway. She had dark hair, and dark eyes, and high cheekbones like Sandy’s, suggesting she might have some Ojibwe blood in her veins. She wore blue jeans, a sweater, and a look that could have been either curiosity or dread.

“You haven’t met my wife, Meredith, have you?” Lyle said. He gestured toward Max. “This is Max Rupert, the guy I told you about.”