North Country(94)

“We’re not sharing details at this time,” Logan cuts in. “Not until we figure out who’s behind it.”

Dillon snorts. “What? You think I had something to do with it?”

Logan stares at him. “Did you?”

“I’m not even going to grace that with an answer.” Dillon shakes his head. “As if I don’t have far more important things to focus on. As does Emery.” He turns his annoyance on me. “Holly Monroe is still missing and you’re out here, riding around on a Ski-Doo with him, investigating fences?”

“It’s Saturday, and what I do on my own time is my business.”

“You sure about that?”

The door swings open then, and Isla comes crashing out, tossing her overnight bag onto the porch first, followed by her equipment bag.

Dillon shifts personas, his voice softening as he calls out, “Let’s pick up the pace, ’kay? We’ve got a long drive and they’re calling for squalls.”

“I’m trying.” She heaves her hockey bag onto her shoulder.

Logan’s out of his seat in seconds. “Give me that.”

“Thanks.” She hands it off to Logan before darting back up the stairs.

“She’s capable of carrying her own things,” Dillon snaps, too harshly.

Logan ignores him and strolls toward the minivan, Isla following closely behind.

Dillon tracks his movements with a scowl on his face. “I told you, I don’t want him around her,” he hisses.

Is it Logan in particular or any man, I wonder. Dillon hasn’t had to face the prospect of having another father figure in his daughter’s life. “Go ahead and tell her that. See how that goes.” Instinct tells me he’s going to lose that battle. There is a quiet bond growing between Isla and Logan, nurtured by their early-morning routine in the barn and the occasional horse ride around the property. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t please me to see that Isla has gotten over her initial skepticism about Logan’s return. She doesn’t seem hung up on his history at all. It certainly hasn’t kept her away from the Landrys.

And for Logan’s part, I see glimpses of a softer side of him whenever she’s around.

“You’ve got Biscuit’s stall for me?” Isla calls out as Logan heads back toward the snowmobile.

“And I’ll take him out for a ride. After I learn how to skate again.”

“Jon’s got one of those walkers you can use.”

“Smart-ass.” Logan chuckles. “Give ’em hell.”

I gesture for Isla to come back for a hug. “I’ll be watching the live stream, okay?” I smooth a strand of hair off her forehead. “I love you. Be safe.”

I get a mumbled “Love you” back as she piles into the van, greeting her stepbrother.

To Dillon, I whisper, “Make sure she eats enough. She hasn’t been eating.”

“Yeah, Donna noticed that.” Dillon’s brow furrows, his genuine worry for his daughter instantly overshadowing any conceived issues he has with Logan. “I’ll make sure she texts you when we’ve arrived.”

“Thank you.” A decency we’ve both agreed on in this tumultuous co-parenting ride, even if I have apps to track her phone.

Dillon’s focus shifts back to Logan, reseated on his snowmobile. “If someone’s messing around with their livelihood, I hope you figure it out. But be careful, Emery. There’s a lot of talk goin’ on, about you protecting him at the expense of finding out what happened to Holly.”

Just the insinuation raises my hackles. “You know I would never do that—”

“I know.” Dillon raises his hands. “I know that. Just … be careful. Brad’s not the type to lie down. He’ll go up your chain of command and put a bug in your boss’s ear. ”

A bug that Freeman will no doubt see as an opportunity. And if Dillon’s warning me about it, it’s because it’s already happening.

With that, Dillon returns to the minivan.

I watch them drive away.

“What was that about?” Logan asks.

“Nothing.” If I tell Logan, he’s bound to take it upon himself to try to protect me again by eliminating me from his life. “I’ll be at your place around seven. Tell Jon to be there with whatever recordings he has.”

Now to get inside and peel off these layers before I pee my pants.





“Inside,” I coax Duke through the garage’s barn door. The dim light shines over the decades of belongings Annie refused to part with. Duke wanders toward Jay’s old pickup truck, sniffing the various scattered boxes along the way. I remember when Jay would take us into town for ice cream or to rent DVDs at the local Blockbuster. I’d be sandwiched between him and Logan on the bench seat. At that age, being anywhere without my parents was exciting.

Jon and Sarah have driven it around the ranch occasionally to keep the engine from seizing, but it hasn’t been off the property in years. Now, the truck’s hood is propped open, and a toolbox sits nearby. Someone’s been working to bring it back to life.

Upstairs, the telltale Hockey Night in Canada tune carries. I whistle for Duke to follow me up, and he dutifully obeys, through the cracked door—an invitation to skip the formality of knocking.