Northwest Angle: A Novel (Cork O'Connor Mystery Series)
William Kent Krueger
With his family caught in the crosshairs of a group of brutal killers, detective Cork O’Connor must solve the murder of a young girl in the latest installment of William Kent Krueger’s unforgettable New York Times bestselling series.
With his family caught in the crosshairs of a group of brutal killers, detective Cork O’Connor must solve the murder of a young girl in William Kent Krueger’s latest unforgettable New York Times bestseller.
During a houseboat vacation on the remote Lake of the Woods, a violent gale sweeps through unexpectedly, stranding Cork and his daughter, Jenny, on a devastated island where the wind has ushered in a force far darker and more deadly than any storm.
Amid the wreckage, Cork and Jenny discover the body of a teenage girl. She wasn’t killed by the storm, however; she’d been bound and tortured before she died. Nearby, underneath a tangle of branches, they also find a baby boy, hungry and dehydrated, but still very much alive. Powerful forces intent on securing the child pursue them to the isolated Northwest Angle, where it’s impossible to tell who among the residents is in league with the devil, but Cork understands that to save his family he must solve the puzzle of this mysterious child whom death follows like a shadow.
know the Lake of the Woods and so had no idea what might be possible. What she said was “I’m sure you’re right.” “I guess we should try to get some sleep,” he said. “Do you think you can?” “Maybe I’ll try saying a little prayer before I lie down.” He didn’t look at her or smile, and she had no idea if it was meant as a joke. She hoped it wasn’t. NINETEEN The cigarette boat roared out of the glare of the rising sun, just as Cork had predicted. He shielded his eyes and squinted and watched
for the band is handled by the folks here on Windigo and Little Windigo. Good people, although sometimes the men, especially the young ones, are prone to get a little drunk or a little high and get out of line. No real trouble though. Like I say, good people. We’re going to talk to a woman named Cherri Allen. I called to let her know we’re coming. She’s from the States, somewhere in Michigan. Married into the Powassin family on the island, and handles a lot of visitor issues. Canadian fishing
branches of the fallen aspen. He’d waited patiently for the hunter to appear on the outcropping where the few ragged cedars still stood. His clothes had begun to dry, and his muscles had begun to cramp, and when the hunter didn’t show, he’d begun to believe he’d been miserably off target, miscalculated completely. All his predictions about the man’s behavior had been wrong. He was afraid that being wrong could lead too easily to being dead. He should continue to wait, he knew, to be patient, to
of the waves that Jenny was afraid their wings would catch and they would crash into the lake. She watched them curl to the west and glide smoothly to rest in the calmer water of a little bay. “I just . . . I wasn’t expecting this,” Aaron said at last. “We’re apart two weeks, and when I see you next, you have a baby practically stuck to your breast.” “I didn’t plan it. But I believe it’s like Amos Powassin said. He’s come to rest where he’s supposed to be.” Aaron eyed the baby with what Jenny
and looked past them toward the camp buildings. “Could you tell me where the Hornetts have gone?” “Away,” Darrow replied. “You don’t know where?” “No idea.” “You?” Kretsch asked Billings, Chester A. Billings said nothing, only gave his head the faintest ghost of a shake. “Mind if we look around a little?” Kretsch asked. “Got a warrant?” Darrow challenged. “No. Not looking for anything special. Why? You have something to hide?” “Not a thing, Deputy.” “Then there’s no reason we couldn’t