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far did you have to come to get here?” he asked.
    “I live in Paradise.”
    “Yeah, I know the place. Over by the Soo, right?”
    “Other side of Whitefish Bay, yes.”
    “Let me ask you, do you happen to know the chief of police there?”
    “Roy Maven, you mean?”
    “Yeah, that’s him. Is he the one who sent you out here?”
    “No, sir. You see—”
    “Because if it was, I’d like you to explain to me how one single person can be so charming and persuasive.”
    “It was the young man’s father who sent me,” I said. “Charles Razniewski Sr. He and Chief Maven were once state police officers at the same post.”
    “Okay, now it makes a little more sense. Maven called out here himself a few days ago, is the reason I ask. He didn’t say anything about his history. He was too busy grilling me like he’d just caught me trying to steal his car.”
    “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
    “Okay, so I won’t hold that against you. Just tell him he might want to cool it next time you see him. But you’re saying this kid’s father sent you all the way out here to find out more about … what again? I’m sorry, I still don’t quite follow you.”
    “That’s the tough part,” I said. “He’s not sure what he thinks I can do. He just wants somebody to do something. Find out what I can from people while it’s still fresh in their minds.”
    “He basically wants you to find out why his son killed himself?”
    “I guess you could put it that way, yes.”
    The undersheriff shook his head slowly. “I think he’s asking you to do the impossible. Is that something you’re usually good at?”
    I had to smile. “Generally not. Most days I’m just trying to keep my road clear.”
    “I had to cut the kid down, you know.”
    My smile disappeared.
    “The EMS guys,” he said, “they sorta just put the stretcher underneath him. There was a fire truck there, so we had the ladder, but for some reason I got elected to climb up there and cut the rope. Hell, it wasn’t even officially my jurisdiction.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Misery Bay is actually in Ontonagon County, not Houghton County.”
    “I didn’t realize that. The map made it look like—”
    “It’s barely over the line. But we always help each other out, you know, and as soon as we found out this kid was one of ours…”
    “Sounds like a tough day, no matter who’s in charge.”
    “He’d been hanging out there for a day and a half, you realize. Nobody had seen him that whole time. That’s how lonely that place is. This time of year, anyway.”
    “I sort of got that idea,” I said. “I drove by there today.”
    That seemed to surprise him. “You were at Misery Bay?”
    “I just wanted to see it.”
    “Yeah, well, I keep seeing it, too. Every night when I try to go to sleep.”
    “I understand,” I said. “But still. I felt I had to start there.”
    “What was your impression?”
    “Well, I tried to reconstruct the event in my mind. Let me ask you this while I’m thinking of it. How long was the rope?”
    The undersheriff picked up a blank pad of paper from the mess on his desk. He picked up a pen and stared down at the pad. It was obvious to me he was coming to some sort of decision.
    “Mr. McKnight, I take it you were in law enforcement at some point?”
    “Detroit Police Department. Eight years.”
    He nodded. “And now you’re private?”
    “On paper, yes, but I’ll be honest with you. This feels more like I’m just doing the man a favor. So really, I know I’m just a stranger showing up out of nowhere, asking you all these questions.”
    “Do you feel that there was something inappropriate about the way we handled this case?”
    “No,” I said. “God, no. That’s not why I’m here.”
    “Let me tell you what kind of winter it’s been for me. A couple nights after New Year’s, a kid from Tech drives down to Misery Bay and manages to hang himself from a tree. Like I said, I was the lucky bastard who got to