Strike Dog Read Online Free
Author: Joseph Heywood
worse. Youâre supposed to be a detective, asshole, but you couldnât find a turd in a toilet. When the fuck would Linsenman bring the current records? He thought about going through Nantzâs checkbook, but he wasnât sure where it was.
When McCants came back he was sitting alone in the kitchen looking out at the gray water of Little Bay de Noc, and trying to force his brain to give him something to work with, a place to start. Anything.
4
SLIPPERY CREEK, MICHIGAN
MAY 1, 2004
Luticious Treebone and Service sat on the porch of the cabin. âThe whole woods cop clan is going to close ranks around you,â Tree told him.
Service took him through the facts as he knew them, and Treebone listened without interrupting until his friend had finished.
âIâve seen your gut in action,â Tree said. âWhat do you need from me?â
âJust keep people off my tail while I get myself ready.â
âKalina will be up tomorrow,â Treebone said. Tree had brought his duffel and a sleeping bag, declaring heâd be staying for two weeks, like it or not. He was under Kalinaâs orders, and no one defied his wife.
Kalina Treebone had been named for the great Detroit Tiger Al Kaline, but where Kaline had been humble throughout his Hall of Fame career, she was outspoken, resolute in her beliefs, and intimidating to her husband and most of his friends.
Three days had passed since Service had seen the wreck. The captain drove out from Marquette and said that the state felt 70 percent certain it had been an accident, but they were not going to declare it so until they had ruled out other possibilities. Service was not happy with the news, but it didnât change his mind about what he had to do, which was to get himself into top shape by living a spartan existence, with as few distractions as possible.
Each morning and afternoon he lifted weights. In between he ran six miles down Slippery Creek and into the Mosquito Wilderness Area, which he considered to be one of the stateâs natural jewels. Before Nantz, the Mosquito had been his one true love, and he had guarded it with the tenacity of his father before him. An unexpected promotion to detective in the Wildlife Resources Protection unit removed him from the Mosquito, and it had become Candiâs. So far she had been as fierce in protecting it as he had been.
Two hours after the captain left, Kalina Treebone arrived toting an enormous cooler filled with food and sent Tree to her van for two more coolers.
âYou two arenât going to be eating cold beans from a can if I can help it.â
Tree and Service hoisted the coolers into the cabin. Kalina confronted Service, one hand on her hip and the other waving like a flick-knife. âYouâve always been a selfish, self-absorbed man,â she said. âJust like my Tree. Why any woman would want either of you is beyond me. What you need to be doing is getting your woman and your son properly buried and prayed over. Until then there ainât nothing else matters.â
âTheyâre dead,â he said coldly, âand nothing can change that. What I have to do is deal with the things I can deal with. The state has ordered autopsies and I canât do a damn thing until they release them, so if you donât mind, put your finger back in its holster and let me get on with what Iâve got to do.â He was sick of being hugged, advised, and lectured about what he ought to be doing, and he was fed up with hangdog faces and pathetic sighs. He didnât need sympathy; he needed space. Why couldnât they understand that? Couldnât they see or sense that whatever this wasâand he wasnât in any position yet to describe itâit was just starting, not ending.
He knew she didnât buy it, but Kalina was like her husband, the sort who would do what a friend needed, even when they didnât agree.
Kalina manned the phone, which kept
When McCants came back he was sitting alone in the kitchen looking out at the gray water of Little Bay de Noc, and trying to force his brain to give him something to work with, a place to start. Anything.
4
SLIPPERY CREEK, MICHIGAN
MAY 1, 2004
Luticious Treebone and Service sat on the porch of the cabin. âThe whole woods cop clan is going to close ranks around you,â Tree told him.
Service took him through the facts as he knew them, and Treebone listened without interrupting until his friend had finished.
âIâve seen your gut in action,â Tree said. âWhat do you need from me?â
âJust keep people off my tail while I get myself ready.â
âKalina will be up tomorrow,â Treebone said. Tree had brought his duffel and a sleeping bag, declaring heâd be staying for two weeks, like it or not. He was under Kalinaâs orders, and no one defied his wife.
Kalina Treebone had been named for the great Detroit Tiger Al Kaline, but where Kaline had been humble throughout his Hall of Fame career, she was outspoken, resolute in her beliefs, and intimidating to her husband and most of his friends.
Three days had passed since Service had seen the wreck. The captain drove out from Marquette and said that the state felt 70 percent certain it had been an accident, but they were not going to declare it so until they had ruled out other possibilities. Service was not happy with the news, but it didnât change his mind about what he had to do, which was to get himself into top shape by living a spartan existence, with as few distractions as possible.
Each morning and afternoon he lifted weights. In between he ran six miles down Slippery Creek and into the Mosquito Wilderness Area, which he considered to be one of the stateâs natural jewels. Before Nantz, the Mosquito had been his one true love, and he had guarded it with the tenacity of his father before him. An unexpected promotion to detective in the Wildlife Resources Protection unit removed him from the Mosquito, and it had become Candiâs. So far she had been as fierce in protecting it as he had been.
Two hours after the captain left, Kalina Treebone arrived toting an enormous cooler filled with food and sent Tree to her van for two more coolers.
âYou two arenât going to be eating cold beans from a can if I can help it.â
Tree and Service hoisted the coolers into the cabin. Kalina confronted Service, one hand on her hip and the other waving like a flick-knife. âYouâve always been a selfish, self-absorbed man,â she said. âJust like my Tree. Why any woman would want either of you is beyond me. What you need to be doing is getting your woman and your son properly buried and prayed over. Until then there ainât nothing else matters.â
âTheyâre dead,â he said coldly, âand nothing can change that. What I have to do is deal with the things I can deal with. The state has ordered autopsies and I canât do a damn thing until they release them, so if you donât mind, put your finger back in its holster and let me get on with what Iâve got to do.â He was sick of being hugged, advised, and lectured about what he ought to be doing, and he was fed up with hangdog faces and pathetic sighs. He didnât need sympathy; he needed space. Why couldnât they understand that? Couldnât they see or sense that whatever this wasâand he wasnât in any position yet to describe itâit was just starting, not ending.
He knew she didnât buy it, but Kalina was like her husband, the sort who would do what a friend needed, even when they didnât agree.
Kalina manned the phone, which kept
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