Free Manitou Canyon by William Kent Krueger Page A

everyone did first thing in the morning in the Boundary Waters. She wore the red-and-white striped stocking cap that she’d worn the whole trip so far and that Cork couldn’t look at without thinking of Where’s Waldo? In its way, it was kind of cute, and because her grandfather had given it to her, he appreciated its sentimental value.
    â€œNo need,” he said and handed her a cup.
    â€œHow long have you been up?”
    â€œLong enough to make coffee.” And although he didn’t tell her, long enough to have tried the satellite phone again with the same disappointing result. Then he’d taken out his field glasses and carefully studied the island. He could see the official campsite there, but saw no tents or canoes or any other sign of human life.The same was true for the top of the ridge where the lights had been.
    â€œNot so grim this morning,” Lindsay observed.
    â€œStill gray, but no precipitation. That helps.”
    She hugged herself as if for warmth. “Must be near freezing.”
    â€œIt’ll warm up.”
    She took a long drink of her coffee. “Ahhh, that helps. Breakfast?” She nodded toward the pot Cork had on the camp stove burner.
    â€œOatmeal. Then I’ll fry up some bacon and rehydrate some eggs.”
    â€œWhat’s the plan?”
    â€œThe island first. See if we can track down whoever was over there last night.”
    â€œThen?”
    â€œLike I said yesterday, I’m hoping something will come to me.”
    â€œThat’s it? That’s your plan? All of it?”
    â€œDo you have a better one?”
    She looked disappointed but clearly had nothing of her own to offer.
    They ate mostly in silence, and Cork cleaned up from the meal while Lindsay visited the pit toilet. Then they went down to where the canoe lay tipped. A translucent skin of ice had formed around the rocks nearest the shoreline.
    â€œWinter comes early here,” Lindsay said, as if it were a sudden revelation.
    â€œThat’s why we won’t be staying long. If the lakes ice over, it’ll be hell getting out. Same if it decides to snow much.”
    â€œBut if we find something?” she said hopefully.
    â€œIf we find something, we’ll figure what to do then.”
    They put in to the water and made for the island. Cork guided them to the landing for the BWCAW campsite, a little sandy area edged with rocks. They lifted the canoe from the water and tilted it on the shore. Cork studied the sand.
    â€œNo footprints. If someone was on this island yesterday, they didn’t land here.”
    â€œWhere else?”
    â€œA couple of other possibilities, but this landing makes the most sense.”
    â€œHello!” Lindsay called.
    The suddenness and volume of her voice startled Cork, and he shot her a look.
    She shrugged. “Seemed like the easiest thing.”
    She was right, and Cork gave a holler. “Hello! Is anyone here?”
    â€œMaybe they can’t hear us,” she said.
    â€œIt’s so quiet you can hear bark growing.”
    â€œMaybe they left.”
    â€œThey got off awfully early then. I was up at first light. Let’s just have a little look around.”
    He followed the shoreline to the west side of the island, where there was a break in the rocks just large enough for a canoe to slip up to a spot covered in pine needles. It was out of sight from where he and Lindsay had camped the night before, and if there’d been canoes, he wouldn’t necessarily have seen them leave. He knew the spot from the earlier, thorough search for John Harris.
    â€œWhat are we looking for?” Lindsay asked.
    â€œAny sign someone was here.”
    â€œAnd were they?”
    â€œI can’t see any indication.”
    â€œYou said there were a couple of places.”
    â€œThe other one’s a little tough to get to from here. I’ve got another idea. Follow me.”
    He led her back to the first landing