P. Parrish - Heart of Ice

Louis picked up his glass but set it back down. He was so exhausted from the trip to California he could barely think.

“You’ve done all you can,” Rafsky said.

Louis heard a sound and turned toward the door. Maisey was standing there, holding Julie’s raincoat.

“Did I hear you mention Mr. Ross?” she asked.

Louis and Rafsky exchanged glances. Rafsky reached for the bottle of Harveys to refill his glass as a pretense to not answer.

“Yes,” Louis said.

Maisey came forward. “If that boy shows up here I’ll kill him,” she said.

Louis believed her. He believed that if Ross showed up at the house, Maisey would in fact kill him. Her guilt over not protecting Julie as a child had new life. Before today Maisey might have been able to go to her grave bearing its weight. But not now, not since Julie had been given back to her.

As for Julie, she didn’t ask one question about her brother.

She did ask about Cooper. Last night, as Louis and Rafsky were getting ready to leave the cottage, Julie had come downstairs. She had pulled Louis aside and asked if there was any chance she could see him.

I’m going to prison. I know that. I just want to see him once.

Later, back at their hotel, Louis had brought it up to Rafsky. It took Rafsky a long time to answer, and it was not what Louis was expecting.

I think I can make that happen.

What was behind Rafsky’s decision? It wasn’t sentimentality; that wasn’t in Rafsky’s bones. Louis suspected it was something deeper, something that came from that part of Rafsky that had whispered, Tell Frye I forgive her.

Whatever it was, it had brought Louis here, to the Ice House bar in St. Ignace.

It was lunchtime, but the place was almost deserted, just two men hunched over beers at the bar. Rafsky had told Louis that Cooper’s father had put the bar up as collateral for his son’s bail. Louis suspected the publicity had not been good for business.

There was a man behind the bar cleaning glasses. He was tall and thin like Cooper but older, and as Louis stepped up to the bar he gave Louis a hard stare.

“You’re that cop,” the old man said.

Louis didn’t bother to correct him. “I’m looking for Cooper Lange. Is he here?”

“No, he’s not. Now why don’t you get out of here?”

Over the man’s shoulder, Louis saw someone come out from the back carrying a beer keg. Cooper’s eyes were on Louis as he set the keg down.

“It’s okay, Pop,” he said. “I’ll handle this.”

The old man moved away to the end of the bar but didn’t take his eyes off Louis.

“What do you want?” Cooper asked Louis.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t have to talk to you. I got a lawyer. Talk to him.”

“It’s not about the charges against you,” Louis said. “It’s something else.”

Cooper shook his head and started to turn away.

“Look, it’s personal,” Louis said.

Louis looked down the bar. Cooper’s father was still watching them, and Louis knew he could hear every word.

“Come outside with me,” Louis said.

“Forget it.”

“Cooper, you’ve got to trust me on this. It’s personal and it’s important.”

In the glare of the neon sign behind the bar, Louis could see something change in Cooper’s face. With a glance at his father he followed Louis outside.

An icy wind was blowing hard from the lake. Cooper, standing there in his flannel shirt, didn’t seem to feel it. Louis pulled up the hood of his parka.

“I need you to come to the island with me,” Louis said.

“What? What the fuck for? You guys want to play hockey with my balls again?”

“Cooper-”

“Fuck this, man.”

Cooper started to go back in the door. Louis grabbed his sleeve. Cooper slapped his hand away but then stepped back, realizing he couldn’t risk even looking cross-eyed at a cop at this point.

“Goddamn it,” he said softly. “It’s bad enough I had to tell my dad everything. I had to tell him about Julie, I had to tell him I was running away to Canada, man! And here you are again. What the fuck more do you want from me?”

“I want you to come to the island with me,” Louis said.

Cooper shook his head. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you. Not here. You have to trust me,” Louis said.

Cooper hung his head.

It was time to play the ace.

“If you come,” Louis said, “I can make sure the resisting arrest charges against you are dropped.”

Cooper looked up at him. “Don’t fuck with me,” he said softly.

“I’m not,” Louis said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

When they got off the ferry, the kid handling the ropes told them the last ferry back to St. Ignace left at four. Louis assured Cooper he would make it, and they started up Main Street.

“Where are we going?” Cooper asked.

“The Chapman house.”

Cooper stopped. “What for?”

“You’ll find out when you get there.”

Cooper glanced back toward the docks, but the ferry had already left. He said nothing until they were almost to the end of West Bluff Road, where he stopped and stared up at the house.

“I’ve never been inside,” he said. He looked to his left to a small break in the trees. “Julie always met me over there, on the path down to the lake.”

Louis put a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “Let’s go in,” he said.

In the foyer Cooper took off his gloves and pushed off his red wool hat. His eyes were everywhere, taking in the oak paneling, the curving staircase, and the parlor with its sheet-draped furniture and cardboard boxes.

He took a step closer to Louis. “Why am I here?” he asked softly.

The creak of the wood floors made them both look to the hallway. Julie was coming in from the kitchen.

A night’s sleep and Maisey’s tender care had transformed her. She was wearing jeans and a dark red sweater. Her hair was loose around her shoulders.

“Hello, Cooper.”

He just stared at her.

She took a step forward. “It’s me, Cooper,” she said softly.

“My God,” he whispered.

Julie’s eyes brimmed. “I know. I know.”

Cooper didn’t move. Couldn’t move, Louis thought as he watched the man. Julie went to Cooper and gently, tentatively, held out her arms. He stepped into them, awkwardly at first, then he clasped her to him and closed his eyes. Julie buried her face in his shoulder.

Louis heard a sound and saw Maisey coming from the kitchen. She came over to stand next to him, her hand to her mouth. For a long time the only sound was the wind ticking against the windows. Then Cooper let out a hard breath and took a step back, out of Julie’s arms.

He wiped a hand roughly over his face.

“How?”

His question was for Louis, but his eyes never left Julie’s face.

“Later,” Louis said.

Cooper gave Louis the barest glance before looking back at Julie.

Maisey put a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take Cooper in the kitchen, honey. I’ll make some fresh coffee.”

Julie smiled and nodded. She took Cooper’s hand, and they walked down the hall.

Louis saw Julie sit down at the kitchen table across from Cooper. Even from this distance he could see it in her face, see that as happy as she was to see Cooper again, she knew their moment had passed.

Maisey was watching them, too, her eyes bright with tears.

“What’s going to happen to her?” she asked.

Louis glanced at his watch. Rafsky was meeting with the DA Greg Thom right now. It was the kind of meeting that would take hours. The final decision about what to do with Julie Chapman was in the hands of a small-town district attorney who, depending on his decision, could end up either crucified or canonized by the media.