I had decided to take the long way home from Bonnie & Clyde’s, driving past big, strong Chief Wenonga. I was starting to get a thing for him. He was cute, he wouldn’t cheat on me, and he couldn’t die. I actually considered pulling over to hang out by his feet to clear my head like some sort of groupie for tall, dark, and unattainable men, when I caught the faux-log-cabin Battle Lake Motel out of the corner of my eye. The owners had redone the front in a blonde, Lincoln Log–style siding along all seven rooms. People driving by could see the original green siding on the back and sides of the building, but I wasn’t driving by just yet. I knew fate had led me here. The police may already have checked the room, but then again, maybe I was the only one who knew exactly where Jeff had been staying. I parked my car in the lot for the lake’s public access boat landing, just up the road from the motel, and walked back over the crunching gravel. Another car in the motel parking lot probably would not have aroused suspicion, but I knew what I was about to do was illegal, and I wanted as little evidence of my visit as possible.
