“You’re sure?” I moved around to his side of the remains.

“The walls were doused in gasoline.” He pointed. “See that charred trail on the ground? Gas was spilled when the container was tilted.”

“How do we catch these guys?”

He shook his head. “We may not be able to. But chances are good the perpetrators would have gotten gas on their shoes and clothing, or a pair of gloves. Maybe even bragged about burning the shed. I’ll ask around. And I’ll have my contacts at the hospital get in touch with me if anyone comes in for burn treatment. These guys are amateurs, trying to make a statement. There’s a possibility they singed more than just their eyebrows lighting this thing.”

An approaching car crunched gravel on the drive behind us. I turned. A state police cruiser slowed and parked. The trooper got out and walked to the scene.

“Officer Segerstrom, nice of you to come,” Puppa said with an outstretched arm.

The officer shook his hand. “Sorry to see your shed burnt down.”

Puppa nodded my way. “Technically, it’s her shed now. This is my granddaughter, Patricia Amble.”

The officer tipped his hat in my direction. “You know my buddy Brad Walters. He’s an officer in downstate Rawlings.”

My eyes grew wide. “Brad? You know him?” I vaguely remembered Brad mentioning his friend in Manistique was a state cop. This must be the guy.

“When your grandfather got a hold of me with the news about the shed, I gave Brad a call. He sounded a little worried.”

“You talked to Brad?”

“He seemed surprised he hadn’t heard from you. You should probably phone him sometime today.”

I nodded, mute. Brad hadn’t heard from me because I’d called Candice right away instead. I guess that was a big indication of where Brad and I stood with each other.

The officer looked Gerard’s way and gave a terse nod. Gerard only glared back in his direction. I figured from the exchange that Gerard and his drug shenanigans had made a blip on the cop’s radar. The men couldn’t be anything but cool toward one another.

“Patricia,” Puppa said, “Mike’s got a few questions for you.”

I was thoroughly confused how my grandfather, a fired ex-cop, could be on a first-name basis with the next generation of law enforcement. I guess it showed there was good breeding somewhere in the bloodlines.

I focused on answering the officer’s questions: what time did you leave the house, when did you return, did you see any vehicles, did you notice anything out of the ordinary, has anyone threatened you, are you involved with local drug trafficking . . .

“Whoa.” I stopped him. “I resent your implication that I’m mixed up in anything illegal. I make it a point to mind my own business. In fact, I bend over backwards to be a law-abiding citizen.”

“Have you ever witnessed any drug deals?” the officer asked, undeterred.

I sputtered. “Drug deals?” My mind flashed back to the exchange on the bluff. I shot a glance toward my grandfather. “Ahh, not that I know of.”

“Perhaps you can clarify that statement.” Officer Segerstrom held his pen ready.

“It means, not that I know of,” I repeated.

A hint of impatience settled into the officer’s voice. “Whoever burnt down your shed is sending a message. It wasn’t just something they did for kicks. Now, you either know or saw something they don’t want you to tell. Speak up now and we may catch them, or keep it to yourself and hope you can get out before the next fire reaches your bed.” He glanced at my log home. “You’d be lucky to get out alive.”

“Okay, okay.” I glanced at my grandfather, wishing I didn’t have to hurt him by tattling on Gerard. “I did see something that looked like a drug deal. It was back in February. Some guy wearing camouflage clothes and riding a dark green four-wheeler was passing stuff off to some other guy in black on a red four-wheeler. They saw me, and the guy in camo almost ran me over.”

“Did you recognize them?” Puppa asked.

I gave him a look of discouragement, hoping he wouldn’t push me to answer.

“Well?” asked the cop.

“Yeah. I did.” I cleared my throat. “The man wearing black was my cousin Gerard.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Gerard casually poking at some smoking charcoal with his foot. Then he turned and walked off.

Officer Segerstrom nodded, his head bent over his notepad. He didn’t even seem surprised as he jotted down my answer.

“And the other man?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I couldn’t see his face. Ask Gerard.”

“Did the other man get a good look at you?”

“Like I said, he practically ran me over.” I thought back. “But I had a scarf over my face to block the wind. I don’t think he would recognize me if he had seen me again.”

“Anything else happen that would put you at risk?”

Officer Segerstrom asked the questions as if he already knew the answers. I rolled my eyes. “I did help Melissa Belmont with her kids at church one day. She said she had something to tell me and asked if I’d meet her in Manistique. I agreed. She told me her husband was dealing drugs and beating her.” I tossed my head in Puppa’s direction. “She thought if I told my grandfather, he could help her.”

The officer glanced up from his notepad. “Does anyone else know what Melissa Belmont told you?”

My hands slashed the air. “Absolutely not. It took me awhile, but I finally got around to telling my grandfather.”

“So there’s nobody else who knows what she told you?”

Obviously the guy was getting at something.

I thought about it. “Uh, I guess I did tell one other person.”

He looked at me from under his brim. “And who would that be?”

My fingers twitched. “Candice LeJeune. But I’m sure she wouldn’t have said anything to anybody.”

I glanced at my grandfather. His eyes narrowed into two tiny slits.

“Candice,” he said under his breath.

I jumped in to explain. “Like I said, I’m sure she wouldn’t have told anybody. She’s a really good friend and I just wanted to get her take on the situation.”

“And what was her take?” Puppa asked.

I fought against the shame that crept up. I shouldn’t have to feel bad for running the scenario past Candice, but I had promised Missy that I wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone but my grandfather.

I gulped. “She had a few choice words for women like Missy. She wasn’t at all sympathetic.”

My grandfather’s face twisted with rage. “How dare she?” He paced in a mindless circle. He stopped and looked up. “If you’ll excuse me, Patricia, Officer Segerstrom”—he nodded as he said our names—“I think I’ll take a little ride and have a talk with Ms. LeJeune.”

18

Puppa stalked toward the black truck, jumped behind the wheel, and sped off. I could only watch dumbfounded as the tires spit gravel on his way out.

I looked toward Officer Segerstrom. “That went well. I hope we don’t get a report of assault and battery after he’s done.”

The man squeezed his brows together. “You don’t know your grandfather very well, do you?”

My arms flailed with uncertainty. “Well, no. I guess not. We’ve only seen each other a couple times since I’ve been back.” I gave a humph. “In fact, most of what I know about him comes from Candice.”

The officer smiled. “In the future, I think you better check your source.” He knelt down by the wreckage. “I’m going to play around in the dirt for a while and then drop off some stuff at the lab. I’ll keep you posted if we’re able to pin this on anyone.”

“Thanks,” I said. I headed back to the house, wondering how I was going to entertain Gerard until my grandfather returned. I looked around inside and called for him, but my cousin was nowhere to be found. I glanced out the front windows and saw him standing at the lakeshore.

“Hey, Gerard,” I said, out of breath by the time I reached him.

“Hey, cuz.” He stared at the rolling waves.

“Gramps up and left you. He went to give Candice a good talking-to.”

Gerard shook his head and turned my way. “I hope they can finally work things out. They’ve been going at it for too many years.”

“What’s the deal with that, anyway? I got the impression that Candice left her husband for Puppa, but then she changed her mind or something?”

He sat down on a rock and motioned for me to join him. I picked a whitish, smooth-top boulder. The stone was warm from the sun.

“This family is so screwed up, I don’t even know where to start,” he said. “I guess you probably know that your dad’s mom drowned out front of the lake house when he was only three years old.”

An ant lion attacked its prey on a patch of sand in front of me. I sympathized with the unsuspecting victim. “I knew she’d died, but I had no idea so tragically,” I said.

Gerard played with a stick, dragging it back and forth across the ground. “She liked to fish off the dock out front. One day she fell in. Must have hit her head or something. But nobody was around to save her. Papa B always blamed himself for not being there.”

I nodded. I knew that feeling. Guilt and I were on a first-name basis.

“Anyway, Papa B had helped her get out of her marriage to a wife-abusing drunk. He put her up at the lake house. She got a divorce, then she and Papa B got married. Papa B always thought her ex was behind her drowning, but he could never prove anything. After that, he made it a point to help out women who’d gotten themselves into bad situations. He felt he owed it to his wife to always keep a fire burning for the cause.”

The waves rolled in with a steady whoosh. The high-pitched whine of seagulls rang across the water as the birds vied for lunch just offshore.