Free Copper River by William Kent Krueger Page A

said Mrs. Taylor. She snared his shoulders and gave him a squeeze.
    “I’ve been around,” Ren said.
    “Not around here. How’s your mother?”
    “Fine. She’s just fine.”
    “We’re on our way to church, and I do so miss her voice in the choir. Will you tell her that?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Mr. Taylor returned carrying a white cardboard box, which he handed over to Ren. “Go ahead and open it.”
    Ren found it packed with dozens of comic books, all Marvel and DC, that seemed to cover many of the classic superheroes he knew and appreciated: Green Lantern, Batman, Superman, Blackhawk, the Fantastic Four, Dr. Strange, Thor.
    “Wow,” he said. “Thanks.”
    “We knew you had a birthday coming up—when is it?”
    “Next week.”
    “Right, so we had Barb do a little horse-trading for us on eBay.”
    “Some of those issues are rare, Ren,” Barb said behind him. “Real collector’s items. I struck some good bargains.”
    “This is great,” Ren told them. “Let me take these outside. And I’ll bring back something I want you to see.”
    He carried the box to his ATV and took from the storage compartment his own small box. He brought it inside and handed it to Mr. Taylor, who opened it and removed the contents.
    “What have we here? Looks like a big-cat track.” He studied the plaster cast further. His hands quivered, a slight tremor that had affected him his whole life. He’d told Ren that people made all kinds of harsh erroneous judgments about him based on that insignificant detail. Ren, who was part Ojibwe, and small for his age, understood. “A bobcat?” Mr. Taylor asked.
    Ren shook his head. In his estimation, Mr. Taylor was the smartest man in Bodine and seemed to know something about everything. Ren knew he’d appreciate the significance of the cast.
    “Not a bobcat, eh? Well, it couldn’t be a cougar, could it?”
    “It is,” Ren said.
    “You made this cast? Where’d you find the track?”
    “Near one of our cabins.”
    “A cougar that close to human habitation? Interesting. Ren, do you mind if I keep this for a while? I have a friend who’s a zoologist at Northern Michigan down in Marquette. I’d like him to have a look at it.”
    “Sure.”
    “Wonderful. I’ll have it back to you in a few days.” He disappeared into the office again, came out with his hands empty, and took his wife’s arm. “If we don’t want to be late for church, Sue, we’d best be moving. Good to see you, Ren. Say hello to your mother for us.”
    When they’d gone, Ren paid for the kolaches and the coffee, then he headed off on his ATV, making for Charlie’s place. He followed Lake Street, where the finest houses in town had been built, old Victorian places. The people who lived there now were professionals—doctors, lawyers, executives—most of whom worked in Marquette but had been lured to Bodine by the beauty of the place and the stunning old houses they could buy for a song. A lot of the homes had been refurbished over the last few years. Stash’s family lived there. So did Amber Kennedy’s.
    Ever since the day before when Charlie told him that Amber liked him, the girl had occupied much of his thinking. She was pretty, with long gold hair that always seemed to flip in just the right way over her delicate shoulders. She wore braces on her teeth, and when she smiled she usually covered her mouth. For some reason, that made Ren like her more. In truth, he’d been thinking less about her prettiness or long gold hair or smile than about her breasts, which over the past summer seemed to have erupted and now pushed up like a couple of active volcanoes under her sweater.
    He didn’t linger when he reached her house, not wanting her to think, should she see him pass, that he’d come that way just because of her. He did cast a quick glance in that direction, but was disappointed to see no one at the front windows.
    He turned west. Near the edge of town, the pavement gave way to gravel. He bumped