Monsters (Page 81)

He went to college, studied genetics and evolution, history. So maybe that was the point of the house. Peter had had a whole other life. From the looks of the house, he might have imagined eventually living here year-round.

At her back, she heard Darth suddenly hitch as his reek went from fizzy rot to grouchy stink. Despite everything, a grin crept over her lips. She knew what was bugging him. Darth might be an ox, but he had a bladder the size of a walnut. This might explain why Darth got to babysit. A guy who needed a potty break every couple of miles could be a real drag. For her, Darth’s frequent need to go wee-wee wasn’t a problem, although he had this habit of doing his business, like, practically right on top of her, which not only was TMI but ticked her off. Want rabbits to stay far away? Pee on the snare. Jerk.

She was tempted to hurry this up but then thought, Oh, screw it. Don’t rush this. There’s something here, something important.

As she stepped up to the bureau, a second flashbulb of memory popped: of Tom, eyes bright with fever, thigh shiny and taut with infection. But why? Chemistry lab and Tom . . .

Because I had to sterilize the knife before I cut him. That was it: that smell like burnt match heads, like flint against a striker. So, were there matches in the drawers? No, the odor was too strong for that. Gunpowder?

Or a gun. Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she leaned in a little closer, opened her mouth, and tasted the air. Don’t get your hopes up. It’s probably not. But the smell was stronger here and coming from the bottom drawer of this bureau.

So. If it was a gun, what then? She couldn’t sneak that past Darth. Unless I shoot him. But it would have to be loaded, and there’d be no way to check. Might even blow up in my hand if it’s old and dirty or the mechanism’s frozen.

But Darth did need to take a whiz. She slid her eyes in a sidelong glance. The boy was doing the dying-to-pee two-step. Wear him down. When he goes potty, that’ll be your chance.

As slowly as she could, she tugged the top drawer. The wood was swollen and yielded in grudging squalls. From the weight and hollow thock of wood against wood, she could tell it was empty. The second drawer held two pairs of boy’s underwear and three pairs of balled socks.

As she pushed the second drawer shut, Darth broke, bolting from the boathouse. A moment later, she saw him hustling for the dock. Well, that’s one way to melt a fishing hole. Wasting not a second more, she dropped to a crouch and pried that bottom drawer free. The balky wood jammed on its metal runner. Come on, don’t blow this. Risking a fast peek around the bureau, she saw Darth stripping his gloves with his teeth. Minute and a half, max. Squelching her impatience, she wrestled the drawer shut then slowly pulled straight back.

This time, the drawer cooperated. Hell. Two pairs of jeans, two cargo pants. While that burnt magnesium scent was still strong, she had no hope of going through each and every pocket before Darth made it back.

“Come on.” She slipped a hand beneath the jeans. “Please, God, just cut me a—” She gasped as her fingers curled around smooth metal. “No way,” she said. “It can’t be.”

But it was.

A pistol.

60

“Penny killed someone?” Chris felt his jaw drop. “When? Who?” “Well, more like got her killed. About two and a half years ago.”

With a weary sigh, Hannah dropped back into her chair. “It’s a long

story.”

Two and a half years ago, he was a sophomore in high school.

Simon would’ve been sixteen. Isaac Hunter had said that Penny was a

year younger than Simon. “Give me the short version. Did you grow

up in Rule, or are you Amish or . . .”

“Was. I left years back.” She shrugged. “I wanted more. School,

an education beyond the eighth grade. Peter and I met in Houghton

when I was a freshman at Michigan Tech. He was already a senior.” “Peter went to college?” He blinked in surprise. “I always assumed

he’d been a deputy since high school or something.”

“Hardly. He was the TA for my freshman seminar in comparative

zoology, managed the lab. Nice guy.” Her mouth moved in an almost

wistful grin. “Very forceful, a million opinions. There was this coffee

place a block or two up from the river—Cyberia Cafe? Peter treated

a couple times after lab. We’d grab coffee, hang outside the library

along the Keweenaw Waterway.”

Keweenaw. He had a vague notion that this was way north and

east. “I’d never been much outside of Merton until I got to Rule.” “Oh, the Keweenaw’s really beautiful. There’s this bridge between

Houghton and Hancock, which is a much smaller town on Copper Island right across the waterway. Once you get past Hancock, there’s virtually nothing on the island all the way out to Lake Superior except farms and golf courses, and then Copper Harbor at the very tip. I think about it sometimes, maybe settling up there?” Her expression turned dreamy. “Raid the university library, then go on past Hancock, find a nice, isolated farm just off Superior. Fish, grow crops, read

books. That would be all right.”

That sounded like something he would enjoy. “Maybe you should

make it happen.”

“Well, I couldn’t do it alone, for one thing, and you have to get

there, for another. Oh, and hope all the people-eaters have moved out

of town.” She gave another wry shrug. “Anyway, Peter really loved

school. His big thing was Isle Royale. We’d go back and forth on what

they should do about the wolves.”

“Wolves? Isle Royale?” It was like listening to someone tell him a

bedtime story in a foreign language. “Where’s that?”

“In Lake Superior. It’s a national park, but hardly anyone goes. It’s

tough to get there. It’s where they were doing this fifty-year study on

the wolf and moose populations?”

“They were?” He felt incredibly dense. “Why?”

She gave him a look. “Isle Royale’s an island, but it’s got wolves

and moose. So how’d they get there?”

“Swim?”

“Only the moose. Wolves can’t swim that far. The lead scientists

were all in Houghton at Michigan Tech. They figured the wolves

came across on ice bridges way back, but because of climate change,

there hasn’t been a stable bridge since the mid-eighties. So the wolves

are stuck. Their population’s been tanking for the last ten years.