Free Tamarack County by William Kent Krueger Page A

me when I get off at the end of a shift.”
    This concerned Cork a lot and went beyond what had happened to Dexter. It was the kind of thing that, when he was sheriff, he would have wanted to know. It was about vulnerability, and everything in him cried out to protect. “What do you do when that happens?”
    “I talk tough. And I have pepper spray. Do you really think this all might be because of something like that?”
    “Best not to discount anything at this point. Whoever it was, he planned it. He knew where you live, knew that you have a dog. It seems most likely that Dexter was killed to send you a message or maybe to punish you. Again, that brings us back to someone off the rez. If it was a Shinnob, he’d have known the dog belonged to Ray Jay and not to you.”
    Stella straightened up, and Cork watched her eyes narrow as she went someplace deep in her thinking. “There was a guy,” she said finally. “Maybe a month ago. Came into the bar one night, and there was this look in his eyes. Not drunk. I know drunk. This was different. Intense in a really creepy way. He sat at a table by himself, but his eyes never left me. Whenever he wanted a drink, instead of asking one of the waitresses, he came right up to the bar so he could order directly from me. He drank Maker’s Mark, neat.”
    “Did he say anything?”
    “No. Not really. But that look creeped me out plenty. And then when I got off that night, someone followed me. All the way from the casino out to the rez.”
    “The guy?”
    “That’s what I figured. I didn’t want him knowing where I live, so I went into Allouette and stopped for some gas. He drove by, disappeared. I waited, but he didn’t come back. I drove home fast, and you better believe I locked all the doors.”
    “What did he look like?”
    “Thinning red hair. Medium height. Big, though, in his upper body, like he worked out or something. I remember he had a mole on his cheek, right here.” She pointed to a spot just to the left of her nose. “Looked like a fly had landed.”
    “What kind of vehicle?”
    “A pickup truck.”
    “Color?”
    “Maybe green, but I wouldn’t swear to it.”
    “License plate?”
    She shook her head. “So I have a stalker now? Great. When he finds out Dexter wasn’t my dog, you think he’ll do something else? Maybe something worse?”
    “We don’t know it was that guy. And whoever it was, maybe they’ll consider it done, whatever point they were trying to make.” Or, Cork hoped, would think it too risky now to try something else.
    “And if it’s not done?”
    “Any of your male relatives willing to hang out at your place for a while?”
    “I could tap a cousin or an uncle, I suppose.”
    “Until I have a better handle on things, that’s what I’d suggest.”
    “You’re staying on this?” She seemed surprised but not at all displeased.
    “Tomorrow when it’s light, I’ll see if I can follow the trail of that snowmobile, find out where it leads.”
    She stepped to the porch rail, leaned her arms on it, and looked toward the woods and the vulture moon. “Jesus, what am I going to tell Ray Jay?”
    “Ray Jay?”
    “His dog. We’re just watching Dexter while Ray Jay does his sixty days as a guest of the Tamarack County Jail.”
    “Another DWI?”
    She shook her head. “He’s been sober almost two years. Probation violation. They caught him poaching.”
    “If you’d like, I could ask the sheriff’s people to look into this.”
    “No. Like you said, it’s probably done. Just some guy being really shitty and cruel.”
    She turned to him. Although it was bitter cold out, she hadn’t buttoned her coat. Under it, she was dressed for her work tending bar at the casino. She wore a tight black sweater and, around her neck, a long gold chain that lay nestled in the valley between her breasts. She had on black slacks that snugged her narrow waist and hugged the admirable curve of her hips.
    She caught him looking and said, as if