Free Killing a Cold One by Joseph Heywood Page A

snowing and there ain’t like nothing to do here, dude, sayin’?” the girl whined. “I guess I ain’t so smart?”
    â€œThus endeth social intercourse,” Service said.
    The girl looked perplexed and grinned. “I know I know dat word, and I’m sure we ain’t done that? Did we? But I guess we could?”
    Service sighed and sat back. It was going to be a long night. More and more the world felt like it was on the verge of coming apart. Friday came back, rested her head on his shoulder, and was asleep before him.

12
    Sunday, October 26
    SLIPPERY CREEK CAMP
    The recent snow was melting under an intense south wind, and Service was on the porch with Newf. Karylanne had brought his granddaughter down from Houghton. Friday and Shigun had come out from Harvey, and all of them had spent two days in some semblance of a family. It was early Sunday, and he and Little Maridly were making breakfast for the rest of the clan. Shigun, Friday’s son, slept soundly like his mom. Maridly seemed to loathe sleep, a lot like her namesake.
    The cell phone rang and Service had an inkling to let it go to a message, but after so many years of being available to others, he reluctantly answered.
    â€œGrady, Lori. I’m very sorry to disrupt your pass time.”
    â€œI gave up trying to differentiate my time from the State’s too long ago to remember,” he said. “What’s up, Governor?”
    He’d met the governor years ago, when she was a state senator, just before she ran for the big job. They had been acquaintances since. Maybe even friends. The exact status seemed to vacillate, mostly based on his moods.
    â€œI’m told that Tuesday’s handling that ghastly case with the headless girls.”
    How does Lori know this? No details have been made public. Had this case climbed the State ladder up to the top?
    â€œYou want to talk to her?”
    â€œNo. I’ve been told you’re also involved in the case.”
    â€œYou know we don’t handle homicides. I have what might be a possibly related weapons case, but we really don’t know yet. Possibly related isn’t the same as related. ”
    â€œI’m a lawyer: Don’t split damn hairs, Grady. You hearing some dogman talk up there—a reward, all that panic-the-public nutcase crap?” The governor was a member of the exclusive Huron Mountain Club and had a first-rate network of Yooper informants who kept her tuned in to goings-on above the bridge, politically and otherwise.
    â€œHeard some,” he said, “but it’s been a while.”
    â€œWhat do you think?” the governor asked.
    â€œThink about what?” Why does she do this shit—come diving into law enforcement and cases without the slightest clue? But he knew the answer: She was in political hell, looking for anything to boost her basement-level public ratings.
    â€œDon’t jerk me around,” Governor Timms snapped at him. “I’m in no mood for your lip,” she added.
    â€œOkay,” he said. “Here’s my take: There’s no such thing as a dogman, Sasquatch, skinwalker, vampire, werewolf, windigo, zombie, whatever. They are all total bullshit.”
    â€œYet many people ardently believe in zombies and vampires,” the governor countered.
    â€œSo what? They believe angels are real, too.” Service affectionately patted his granddaughter’s head and whispered, “Tell your mum and Tuesday and Shigun it’s time to get out of bed. Breakfast on the table in ten minutes, max—and don’t jump on Shigun,” he added as she scampered away.
    â€œListen, Lori, people also believe in the damn Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus,” he said in a whispered growl. “Belief does not bestow biological reality.”
    â€œThe latter examples are benign, the former are not.”
    â€œThey are all bullshit, Governor.”
    â€œAll of