William Krueger - Copper River

Jewell closed her eyes to think, but it was Dina who answered. “Ned Hodder.”

“It’s not Ned,” Jewell said sharply. “I’d know.”

“Give me another name, then,” Cork told her.

“I can’t think,” Jewell said a little desperately.

“You have a high school yearbook?” Dina asked.

“Yes.”

“Get it. Maybe it’ll help.”

Jewell went up to her bedroom and came back down carrying a big yearbook that said Bobcats in green across the front. She sat on the sofa and flipped through the pages. “Here,” she said. “The football team photo.”

The photograph was pretty standard yearbook fare: the whole team suited in their gear and seated on the bleachers of the football field, coaches standing on either side. Jewell’s finger went slowly over the list of names below. It went all the way to the end without stopping.

“Well?” Dina said.

“Calvin, Del, and Ned,” she said, defeated.

“Hodder visits the Copper River Club regularly. He wouldn’t raise a lot of suspicion,” Cork pointed out.

“Yesterday when we went to see him, he wasn’t at his office,” Dina added. “We called him, and he said he was checking on a break-in outside of town. He could have been on his way back from killing Bell.”

“Not Ned,” Jewell said again, but with less conviction.

“I like the guy, too, Jewell,” Cork told her. “And I wouldn’t mind being wrong. But for Charlie’s sake we need to check it out. Where does he live?”

“His family’s always had a place southwest of town, an orchard. Ned lives there alone.”

“Dina and I will go.”

“I’m going, too,” Jewell said. “If it’s Ned, I want to know right away.”

“What about Ren?” Dina asked. “Won’t he be home from school pretty soon?”

“With the hours I work, he almost always comes home to an empty house. I’ll leave him a note. He’ll be fine.”

“What if he’s heard about Stokely’s secret cemetery?”

“I don’t think he has. Gary Johnson wasn’t even up there. If our local newsman doesn’t know yet, nobody else does.”

Cork bent and withdrew the Beretta from the holster still strapped to his ankle. He checked the clip. Dina did the same with her Glock.

“Oh Christ,” Jewell said. “You’re not going to shoot him.”

“Are you with us?” Dina asked.

Jewell took a deep breath. “Yes.”

D ina parked her Pathfinder on the side of the road at the edge of the orchard. They couldn’t see the house, which was deep in the trees.

“If Stokely’s there,” Cork explained, “we don’t want him to spot us coming. We’ll approach through the trees. Jewell, maybe you should stay here. Things could get tricky.”

“I’m going with you,” Jewell said.

“Then you need to do exactly as we say.”

Jewell nodded. She was scared. The whole situation, all the horrible possibilities, terrified her. But she absolutely didn’t want to be left behind.

They closed their doors quietly and crept into the orchard, circling carefully toward the back of the house. Ned’s father, who’d been a lawyer, had kept up the orchard as a hobby, and as a teenager Jewell had spent many fall afternoons hired-along with other of Ned’s friends-to harvest the fruit, which the Hodders sold from a roadside stand. The apples were Northern Spy and McIntosh, still Jewell’s favorite varieties. Ned had often lamented his own inability to keep the orchard in shape, but he was alone in the house and busy with his duties as constable, so the fruit simply fell to the ground. This late in the season, most of the apples had already fallen, and the rotting fruit filled the orchard with a vinegary smell.

As soon as they could see the house, they paused, hidden in the trees.

“I don’t see a vehicle anywhere,” Dina said.

“Garage?” Cork pointed toward a small structure just east of the house.

Jewell nodded.

He indicated the other outbuilding. “Equipment shed?”

“Ned keeps a tractor in there and other stuff for working in the orchard. Ladders, props, pruning things. He doesn’t use them much anymore.”

“Let’s check the garage first,” he said to Dina. “I’d like to know if Calvin Stokely’s truck is in there.”

“I’ll go,” she said. “You cover.”

Cork took the handgun from his ankle holster, slipped behind an apple tree, and waved Dina forward. Jewell stayed back, thinking how horrible this was, coming at Ned as if he were the enemy. It felt so wrong. Dina dashed across the backyard to the side of the garage, which couldn’t be seen from the house. She edged her way to a window and peeked in. She turned back and gave her head an exaggerated shake. Cork pointed toward the shed. Dina went to the corner of the garage and peered carefully at the house for a full minute, watching, Jewell supposed, for movement at a window, an opening door. Then Dina sprinted for the shed. She stood on tiptoe and peered through a dusty window. Again she gave her head a shake. She pointed toward the house.

“Okay,” Cork said over his shoulder to Jewell, “now we check the house. You should stay here.”

“Oh, no,” Jewell said. “I’m coming with you.”

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

Jewell ran hard, passed Cork, and joined Dina at the side of the house, breathless. Cork was several seconds behind.

“You okay?” Dina asked him in a whisper.

“I know what that wounded cougar must feel like,” he said, grimacing.

“Back door or front?” Dina said.

“Back.”

They crept there together. Cork opened the screen and tried the door.

“Locked,” he whispered.

Dina urged him gently aside, reached into an inside pocket of her jacket, and pulled out a small leather case. She took out a couple of items that looked to Jewell like dentist’s tools. She worked on the lock a moment and swung the door open.

Cork put his lips to Jewell’s ear. “Stay here,” he said softly. “When we’re sure it’s clear, we’ll call you in, okay?”

The house swallowed them without a sound.

Outside, Jewell felt suddenly alone and vulnerable. The idea of being afraid of Ned Hodder was alien, yet that’s what she felt. Did she even know Ned anymore? When was the last time they’d had a meaningful conversation? Why had he written a poem about her? How could she have missed so much?

On the road beyond the orchard, a car passed. Jewell heard the sound of the engine mount, plateau, diminish as it sped on.

After that, everything was distressingly quiet. She watched a hawk circle above the orchard, then curve away without a stroke of wing.

Another car approached on the road. This one didn’t pass. The sound of the engine simply died.

What did that mean? Jewell wondered in a panic. What should she do? Shout to Cork and Dina? Where were they? They’d been inside too long, she was sure. Something was wrong. She looked toward the empty drive that wound through the orchard, expecting any moment for Ned to appear. She was a sitting duck, she realized.

She turned to run for the orchard and bumped smack into Ned Hodder. He caught her in his arms. She struggled to break free and stumbled back.

“Jewell?” His boyish face held a look of absolute bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”

“We…I…just…” Her eyes bounced toward the house.

Ned followed them. “That’s Dina Willner’s Pathfinder parked on the road. Is she inside?” He spoke in a deep, menacing tone that Jewell had never heard from him before.

“Ned, listen-” Jewell tried.

He didn’t listen. His face had turned an angry red, and he stormed toward the back door just as Dina stepped out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted.