Blood Is the Sky: An Alex McKnight Mystery Read Free Page B

long moment, while Jackie looked back and forth between us, clearly expecting the worst.
    “It’s Tom,” he finally said.
    “Your brother.”
    “Yeah.”
    I didn’t know a hell of a lot about Tom LeBlanc. I knew he was a few years younger than Vinnie, and that he had caused his family enough trouble to make Vinnie look like the golden boy. There was one incident at the Canadian border that Vinnie never wanted to talk about. I had to read about it in the Soo Evening News . That was the last time I had seen Tom, in fact, right before he had
gone off to serve his two years at Kincheloe.
    “What’s the problem?” I said. I knew he was out on parole now, and saying all the right things about staying straight. But hell, if he was in trouble again, it wouldn’t exactly shock me.
    “He was on a hunting trip in Ontario. He was supposed to be back a couple of days ago.”
    “And he didn’t make it back?”
    “No.”
    “You don’t think—”
    “What, that he’s passed out in some bar in Canada? Is that what you mean?”
    “Vinnie, come on.”
    “It’s different this time, Alex.”
    Here it comes, I thought. He’s been going to the meetings; he’s a changed man. The whole speech. That’s what I expected.
    That’s not what I got.
    “This time,” Vinnie said, “he’s me.”

Chapter Two
    “He took my place,” Vinnie said. “Don’t you see what I’m saying? Tommy was up there pretending to be me.”
    I didn’t get it at first. Then it hit me.
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me he was up there on a hunt?”
    “Yes.”
    “And he was pretending to be you.”
    Vinnie looked down at his hands. “Yes.”
    “Because you couldn’t go. On account of you helping me with the cabin.”
    “No, that’s not it, Alex.”
    “Vinnie—”
    “It was his job, not mine. They called him.”
    “So why did he have to pretend to be you?”
    “It’s kind of a long story,” Vinnie said. “Bottom line, I’m the one who let him do this. It’s all on me.”
    “When was he due back?”
    “Couple of days ago.”
    “Who else went?” I said. “Did anyone else get back yet?”
    “No, not yet.”
    “Who was it, Vinnie? Who did he go with?”
    “Look, can we talk about this on the way? I’ve got to get over to the rez.”
    “We’re both going?”
    “Yeah, I need you to go with me,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”
    “You gonna tell me why?”
    “I need you for protection.”
    “Protection?” Jackie looked at me and then threw his towel in the sink.
    “It’s my mother,” Vinnie said. “I figure if you’re there, she’ll be less likely to kill me.”
    I knew that was just a line, but I went with him anyway. I figured I owed him that much. We took my truck, and he sat there on the passenger’s side, looking out at the trees. After a few minutes of silence, he gave me the rest of the story.
    “This man called him,” he said. “From Detroit. He said he had heard he was a good guide, that he knew how to turn a hunt into a real party. You know, not just the usual slog through the woods. Tom told him that he wasn’t really doing too many hunts anymore. He recommended me, instead. He told them I was the real deal.”
    I knew that was Vinnie’s first love. There were other hunting guides who could track animals for you, and then field-dress and tag them if you were lucky enough to bag one. Vinnie would do all that and then tell you the stories his grandmother had told him, about the land and the sky, the animals and the seasons. The four points on the compass and how they got their names. The manitous, which were the great mysteries, the spirits of Ojibwa mythology. If it was a dark, windy night, he’d tell you about the windingo , which was an evil, flesh-eating monster. Vinnie could take an ordinary hunting trip and turn it into summer camp for grown-ups.
    Of course, he used his Ojibwa name on these hunts—Misquogeezhig, which in English is “Red Sky.” It just doesn’t work when