Comeback (Gun Pedersen Book 1) by L. L. Enger Read Free Book Online Page A

  He brought his hands together. “What brings you out here? You’re a man known for preferring his own company.”
    “A visit.”
    “Well, I’m going fishing. Come along?”
    “You like to talk on the water?”
    “Untie us,” said Hedman.
    Gun undid the lines and stepped into the boat. In five minutes they were anchored off the northwest shore of Hambone Island, out of the wind and a few yards from a stand of rushes. Hedman was casting out and reeling in smoothly, the rod like an extension of his thin arm. As he worked he got careless, and Gun saw why he was hiding the left side of his face. The flesh around the eye was proud and discolored be neath a heavy application of tan makeup powder. The eye itself didn’t look so good either. A bloody red flag extended from the yellow iris all the way to the outer corner.
    “Somebody hit you?” Gun asked.
    Lyle’s quick laugh wasn’t convincing. “Hit myself. Had my truck up on the lift, changing the oil. The wrench slipped on the goddamn oil plug. Hurt like a bastard, I’ll tell you.”
    “Always change your own oil?” Gun asked.
    “Damn right!” Hedman flared. “Anything wrong with that?”
    “Admirable,” Gun said.
    Lyle glared at him, then looked suddenly toward his line and set the hook mightily. The fish didn’t put up much of a fight. It was a hammerhead pike and Lyle threw it back in.
    “You know what I’m here about,” Gun said as Hedman rebaited his hook.
    “Why don’t you just tell me and then I’ll know for sure.”
    “My daughter seems to be missing, and I hear she was with your kid the other night.”
    Hedman’s amorphous face didn’t show a thing. His beer-colored eyes blinked a couple times. He took a deep breath. “Gun, I’m sure you remember the night you brought Geoff home, naked.” He laughed and swung his line into the boat to remove a weed from the hook. “I was damn unhappy at the time, I don’t mind telling you. But after I found out what had happened, what Geoff had done to those girls—after I cooled off a little—I realized that what you did to my kid was just what he needed.” He cast his line again, then reached out and patted Reuben’s large head.
    “Mmm,” said Gun.
    “No, I mean it. You did the right thing, and I learned a lesson, a mighty hard lesson.”
    “Mmm.”
    “I learned it’s pretty damned hard to recognize the fact that you’ve lost touch with your own kid.”
    “That’s real nice, Lyle, but I came here to talk about Mazy, and I haven’t lost touch with her.”
    “Just a minute now, hear me out. The fact is, last night Geoff and Mazy did go out together, and it wasn’t the first time. Not by a long shot.” He smiled, flashed his eyebrows. “Gun, our kids—”
    “You and I both know that Mazy was on a story. Nothing more, nothing less.”
    Reuben made his presence known with a rumble, and Hedman stroked his neck.
    “You’re grievously mistaken, Gun.” Hedman’s eyes slid to starboard, where a Frisbee-sized turtle swam parallel to the boat, five or six feet away. He picked up a landing net from beneath his seat, eased it into the water behind the turtle, and thrust forward, snaring the turtle in the nylon netting. He dumped it upside down on the floor of the boat. Its underside was waxy and mottled in a geometric pattern of Halloween orange and sea green. Its legs clawed at the air.
    Hedman looked up. “No, Gun. You’re simply wrong about Mazy and my son. And as for Mazy’s interest in Loon Country Attractions, I have nothing to hide. She was free to look at all my records, and I might add that her understanding of Loon Country’s economic implications far exceeds yours.”
    “Well, that’s good. Where the hell is she?”
    “I don’t know. And I don’t know where Geoff is either. But I sure could guess who he’s with. Look, last week my son told me things between him and Mazy were . . . heating up. He didn’t come right out and announce anything, but I’m sure it was his