Purgatory Ridge

By the time they drove to the school, night had descended fully. The town was reduced to a skeleton, bones of light with a lot of dark between. Jo was silent, and Cork could feel the heat of her anger. There was a little flame in him, too, but he didn’t want to feed it. What good would it do, both of them flaring? Silence, he decided, was better.

Jo finally spoke. “So. I guess you were right.”

“About what?”

“Karl’s needing your help. Everybody seems to think he’d be dead if it weren’t for you. On the other hand, it could have ended with both of you dead. But then, that goes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

“What territory?”

“Law enforcement.” She paused the car at a stop sign, not long enough to be legal, and took off quickly. “When do you plan to make your announcement?”

“What are you talking about? What announcement?”

“Your candidacy. That’s what all this is about, isn’t it, Cork? Or should I say Sheriff O’Connor?”

“For crying out loud, Jo. Didn’t I promise that we’d talk before I made a decision?”

“You’ve already decided. Look at you. Every step of the way since the bombing, you’ve been there, ahead of everybody else. You’re besting everyone at this game.”

“It’s not a game.”

“Isn’t it? People’s lives are at stake, but the point of all this as far as Cork O’Connor is concerned is to show people what a great investigative mind he has, what a mistake they made when they let him go. Tell me, doesn’t it feel good right here”-she reached across the seat and slapped him hard in the gut-“to know how great you are at all this?”

“It feels wonderful,” he said, and shoved her hand away.

Silence descended again, and the two feet between them in the car felt to Cork like the empty distance between two stars. Jo drove the car around behind the school and pulled it up next to Cork’s Bronco. Lindstrom’s Explorer was still there.

Jo spoke quietly. “Haven’t you been happy at Sam’s Place?”

“I don’t think that’s the issue here. Look, Jo, what are you really afraid of?”

Her hands still gripped the steering wheel, tightly. “If you run, all the dirty laundry will be dragged out.”

“Ah.” Cork nodded. “You mean your dirty laundry. Because everybody already knows about mine.” He looked away, across the football field. The moon was rising behind the deserted bleachers. Eventually the grass on the field would turn silver, but right now it was a sorrowful gray. Cork remembered a game against Hibbing his senior year when he intercepted a pass and ran seventy-five yards for a touchdown. He remembered the sound of all those people in the stands cheering for him and how, for a little while, he felt huge and invulnerable. “I can win, Jo.”

“I know you can. And that’s the hell of it.” She sat back but still wouldn’t look at him. “Everybody here loves you. You walk down the street and it’s ‘Hey there, Cork.’ ‘How’s it going, Cork?’ ‘Good to see you, Cork.’ Aurora’s like a big family and you’re a favored son.”

“Prodigal son.”

“That’s my point. You’ve already been forgiven. What’s a little extramarital affair? Men will be men. It’s different for me. In fact, it’s different for any woman here.”

“I’d stand beside you.”

“Right. We’ve both done so well that way in the past.” Her voice was low and bitter.

“Don’t measure everything against the past.”

“What other measure is there, Cork? If you become sheriff, all I can see is us going right back where we were.”

Cork stared at her hard, dark profile. “You’re saying it was my fault?” Something-like the tip of a knife-seemed to prick his gut. “It was my job as sheriff that caused all our troubles?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Funny. It sure sounded that way.”

“What I’m saying is that your job as sheriff often brought you into conflict with the interests of my clients. It brought us into conflict. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Fine. Change your clientele.”

“I can’t do that.”

“But it’s perfectly all right for me to throw away something I might want.”

“You’re shouting.”

“I’m pissed. Jesus. I just kept a man from getting his ass blown to bits. You know, it was like this before, Jo. No matter what I was going through, what you were going through was more important.”

“That’s not true.”

“It feels true.” He stepped out and shut the door hard behind him. “I think I’ll stay at Sam’s Place tonight.” He glared at her through the window.

“Is this where I’m supposed to plead, ‘Don’t leave’?”

“Damn it.” Cork swung away and went to his Bronco. He drove off, leaving Jo’s Toyota sitting in the parking lot like an animal too stunned to move.

20

WHEN JO WALKED IN THE BACK DOOR, the women of the O’Connor household were gathered at the kitchen table. They were partaking of Rose’s remedy for all emotional ills-milk and cookies.

“Where’s Daddy?” Annie looked at her anxiously from under a spill of wild red curls.

“He’s fine,” Jo assured her. “He’s just fine.”

“Everybody’s been calling,” Jenny said. “Annie and I wanted to go to the marina, but Aunt Rose wouldn’t let us.”

Rose looked unperturbed. “I figured there was no need to add to the confusion.”