Let It Burn by Steve Hamilton

Let It Burn by Steve Hamilton

Author:Steve Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780312640224
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2013-01-01T06:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I went back to the Soo the next day. I needed to try out this idea, to say it out loud, hear myself saying it, see someone else’s reaction to it. Someone I could trust.

I parked on Portage Avenue, a busy street on this day, one of the last days of the tourist season. The freighters would keep running until the weather closed them down for the winter, but today was one last chance to walk through the Locks Park without a warm coat. I knew people came from all over to see these seven-hundred-footers go through the locks. I don’t totally understand the attraction, but then I live just up the bay, so I see these boats all the time.

I walked into the Soo Brewing Company. The air was heavy and the front window was steamed up, but enough light came through to make the furniture in the seating area look even further past its prime. Although I suppose the lingering aroma of the hops more than made up for it.

Leon appeared from the back room, dragging a large metal trash can. “Alex,” he said when he saw me, “two visits in two days. I knew this beer would win you over.”

“You need help with that?”

“I got it. But I bet you can’t guess where it’s going.”

I looked into the trash can and saw nothing but a soggy mass of grain. “I’m guessing the Dumpster out back?”

“Hell no. This is from the mash tun. It’s going to the buffalo ranch so they can feed it to the herd.”

“The buffalo ranch.”

“Down toward Pickford, yeah. You’ve seen them.”

“If you say so,” I said. Then I saw his coffee on the counter and realized I desperately needed one myself.

“I’ve got a pot going,” he said, before I could even ask. “I’ll get you a cup.”

A couple of minutes later, we were sitting in the front room on the beat-up couch. The cushions were shot, and I knew it would be a battle to get back on my feet, but for now I was comfortable. I took a sip of coffee.

“You don’t look like you slept a whole lot,” he said to me.

I shook my head.

“I imagine the story you told me last night has something to do with that.”

“I’m not exactly sure how I know this,” I said. “Or why I didn’t know it until now. All these years later. But I believe we put away an innocent man.”

“You believe this based on what?”

“Well, based at least partly on something I thought of in the middle of the night. You’re the one I always come to when I need help seeing something clearly, right?”

“I try.”

“You do more than try. You have a gift for it. You cut through all the clutter that gets in the way and you go right to the one thing that makes it all fit together. I’ve seen you do it over and over again.”

“You’re flattering me now. But go ahead.”

“When I was telling you what happened



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