Die a Stranger by Steve Hamilton

disappeared. That’s what you came here to tell me.”
    “I’m sure he’s fine. I just wanted to know if you’ve heard from him. That’s all.”
    “I haven’t. We don’t see that much of him lately. As you know.”
    Wow, I thought. A few more minutes of this and I’ll need an ice bag on my face. “If you hear from him, will you have him call me, please? I’ll do the same for you and your sister, I promise.”
    “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “I’ll tell Reggie you were thinking of us.”
    “That’s okay. I can tell her. I think I’ll go see her right now, too.”
    “Oh good, she’ll enjoy that.”
    “Listen,” I said, “I mean, come on, Mary.”
    “Understand one thing,” she said. “I know it was my brother’s choice to leave the reservation. I don’t blame you for that. I really don’t. But I also know that my brother doesn’t drink alcohol. Ever. Not after what it did to our father. He doesn’t drink, period, end of discussion. So if you’re telling me that this was his choice completely, him just deciding one day to go get drunk … Well, I do not believe you.”
    I put up my hands in surrender. I didn’t know what else to say.
    “I’ll have him call you if I hear from him,” she said. “I promise.” Then she shut the door in my face.
    Well, that was fun, I thought. Now I get to go do it again.
    I walked down the street to Regina’s house. Reggie, as her sister called her. She opened the door with the phone in her hand, her sister already briefing her on what was about to come. We had a condensed version of the exact same conversation, with the same punch line. If Vinnie was drinking, it clearly must have been my fault.
    Then I got another door shut in my face.
    I got back into my truck and spent a full minute just sitting there, my hands tight on the steering wheel. Then I started the engine and took off.
    I had one more destination in mind. Up that long hill to Mission Point, the way we came up to the graveyard so Vinnie could talk to his mother one more time. He could be up there again, I told myself. He really could be. Although spending a full day and a half up there seemed a little farfetched.
    The place was quiet and empty when I got up there. I stopped the truck and got out, walked over to the overlook, that same view we’d had that night, but brightly lit by the sun now, the lakes below capturing the light and breaking into a thousand little pieces.
    “Vinnie,” I said out loud, “where the hell are you?”
    *   *   *
     
    It was hours later, the sun gone down, another day nearly out of reach with nothing to show for it. There was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I saw a man in a uniform. I had no idea who he was.
    “Mr. McKnight? Can I have a few moments? I’m Chief Benally from the Bay Mills Police Department.”
    “Oh, you’re the new man in town,” I said. “Come on in.”
    I’d known they had a chief coming in, some high-profile Ojibwa lifer from a tribe out in Wisconsin. This was obviously the man and he did look like he kept his boots shined just right. It’s a strange position, actually, being the chief of a small reservation police department and also being deputized at the county level simultaneously. You have only a handful of officers, and if you arrest someone you have to coordinate with the county and keep the suspect in the holding cells in the Soo. On top of everything else, the community you serve is basically one big extended family, and even your officers are members. I could only imagine how complicated that could get.
    I indicated the chairs and offered him something to drink. He declined. He took off his hat and put it on the table in front of him.
    “I stopped by Vinnie LeBlanc’s cabin on my way up here,” he said. “Doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”
    “No, I haven’t seen him since night before last.”
    “So I understand. I had a visit from his sister Mary today.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Here we