Dead in Winter, page 13
“Yes, I’ve been here and alone for four years now. I’m good but thanks for asking. As long as it doesn’t start snowing again tonight, I’ll be back in town tomorrow to refill the gas cans,” she replied and reached out to give him a hug.
“Can I say something without offending you?” he asked cautiously once he let go of her embrace.
She laughed nervously. “Sure, as long as it isn’t an insult.”
“You’re beautiful.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
After plowing several hours, Ezra had to stop. He had a lane open in each direction but with the wind picking up and blowing the snow around it was too difficult to see to finish the lane down the center. He headed back to his quarters for some much-needed sleep.
L
In the morning, the wind had slowed enough for him to finish the much-needed plowing. At noon, he stopped and called the detective.
“I finally got the road open, Ken. You can come out any time, and the sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Great! I should be there in two hours to start the interviews,” the detective announced.
“You might want to start with the two guests at the Damn Inn. With the road open now, I’m sure they both will want to leave here as soon as they can. Everyone else connected lives here in town.”
L
Elly picked up her plate of leftover meatloaf from the tray Karl brought from the kitchen for their dinner and sat down at the nearest table. She made a little well in the mashed potatoes and poured the dark brown gravy over everything except the green beans. She cut a piece of the soft meat with her fork and dragged it through the gravy, letting one drip fall back to the plate before popping it into her mouth and sighed with contentment.
“Of course I’ll stay an extra day to talk to the detective again. It’s the least I can do for the town that has suffered so much,” she said to Ezra after he made a fuss over her giving just a verbal statement.
“Thanks, Elly. Ken said he’d be back in the morning with all the statements typed up and ready to sign. And that gives me an extra day to make sure the roads are still clear.”
“Is Ron staying on too?” she queried.
“I think so. He doesn’t seem to be in a big hurry to leave.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“I know I was going to go for gas yesterday, Harley, but that wind was blowing the snow around so much it was hard to see.” Ann gave the dog an ear rub. “But there really is no reason to delay any longer. The weather is perfect, even a bit too sunny; I will definitely need my sunglasses so I don’t get snow blinded from the glare.”
As she did when she left before, Ann filled the dog’s dry food dish, water, and set down a piddle pad. Again, he sniffed it and whined.
“Oh, don’t be that way. You just went and I won’t be gone as long as last time, I promise. The pad is just a precaution.” Into her backpack, she put two bottles of water and her wallet. Since she planned at stopping at the Damn Inn for lunch as a treat to herself, she didn’t make any sandwiches; barring anything unforeseen, the trip wouldn’t be nearly as long, maybe an hour or two.
In the garage, she scooped out some snow that fell in when she lifted the wide overhead door and started up her snowmobile. Looking around, Ann noticed that Ron had poured the kitty litter on the gasoline spill, though it was obvious to her now the fumes would take much longer to dissipate and she left the big door open to air out the building.
Guiding the big machine out and up onto the snowbank that had formed, she got off and tied the sled to the back, making sure the single gas can and her snowshoes were secure. Ann strapped her helmet on, gunned the machine, and took off, feeling the exhilaration of the speed as it moved faster and faster on the now well-used trail that led to Hell.
Thirty minutes later, the large conifer tree came into view and she slowed and slipped down the bank onto the recently plowed road. Making a hard left turn, Ann headed to the minimart gas station first, to get the needed gas and a few supplies. She made a mental note that the wolf carcass was gone or buried in the recent snowfall.
L
Detective Ken Rhoades was sitting off to the side of the checkout counter with a solemn Marvin, talking quietly.
Ann went to the back of the store and got two bottles of wine, a large bag of crinkle-cut potato chips, and a box of dog treats. After setting them on the counter, she leaned in and asked Roy a question.
“What’s going on? Marvin looks like he lost his best friend!”
“In a way he did, Ann. Marjorie Adams was murdered, stabbed to death a couple of days ago!” Roy whispered back.
“Marjorie is dead? Oh my God! Have they caught who did it?” Ann was stunned. Like most everyone in town, she knew and liked the post master.
“I guess not. There were bloody footprints leading away from the house but the snow washed them away,” Roy explained.
Ann looked quizzical. “When was this again?”
“Day before yesterday, in the late afternoon.”
Marvin got up from the small wrought iron bistro table that comprised the dining area for the minimart and walked down the aisle to the restroom.
“Excuse me,” Ann said to the detective. “I couldn’t help but overhear what happened to poor Marjorie and if that was two days ago, I might have seen something.”
“And what is it you saw, Ms.…?”
“Ann Armor. I live in the woods. I snowshoed in two days ago to get gas for the snowmobile. I stopped at that big pine tree on the other side of town to take my snowshoes off, and while I was bending over to release the clips, I saw a young girl dart across the street. She was in a big hurry.”
“Can you describe this girl?” the detective asked with increased interest.
“I didn’t see her face, but her clothes were very distinctive: she was wearing an orange hunter cap, a bright red scarf, matching red mittens, and a light purple puffy coat. The coat looked like it had dark red splashes on the front. She moved so quickly I knew she wasn’t injured, so if the red on the coat was blood, it wasn’t hers is what crossed my mind.”
“You didn’t think to stop her?” Ken scowled.
“Look, I had just snowshoed five frigging miles! I was exhausted and needed rest. At the time, I dismissed it,” Ann defended herself.
“What happened then, Ms. Armor?”
“I walked down to the bakery to get something to eat and drink, and…I fell asleep in one of the booths for an hour. Sorry I can’t be more help.”
Roy listened to Ann’s retelling of that day with dread. She described Mallory’s everyday winter clothing perfectly.
“Ah, Marvin, you’re going to have to check out Ann because of the wine. I have an errand to run. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” Roy grabbed the truck keys and was out the door before his uncle could protest.
L
After giving the detective her contact information, Ann paid for the gas, took her purchases, and strapped them down in her sled. She drove over to Betty’s Bakery and bought a quart of fresh apple cider and a dozen cinnamon donuts and after securing those down, made a U-turn and parked in front of the Damn Inn.
“Wow, we get to see you twice in one week, Ann,” Kate greeted her.
“I came in to fill the tank on the sled and to get another full can of gas,” she explained just as Ron came in the side door.
“Ann! Good to see you again. Can I buy you lunch?” he asked. His eyes betrayed the delight he was feeling.
“I should be buying yours for coming to my rescue the other day,” she said, smiling warmly at him.
“Nonsense, Kate, will you put an order in for two deluxe burgers? This woman is too thin.”
The sparkle in Ron’s eyes wasn’t lost to Kate and she stifled a grin.
Sitting off to the side at a small table eating the burgers, Ron and Ann chatted amiably for the better part of an hour.
“So what’s your opinion of this strange weather we’ve been having?” Ron asked his attractive lunch companion.
“Well, if I were to be completely honest, I’d say the weather has been foisted on us.”
“Really? You mean like manipulation?” Ron said, keeping a straight face. This woman was intriguing him.
Ann gave him a long, searching look before going on. She figured she’d never see him again after today anyway, so she offered her deepest thoughts.
“Yes, as in weather modification. And don’t ask me why because that part I can’t answer. All I do know is I hear jets overhead during the night—a lot of nights, and being the paranoid person I am, I believe the jets are creating chemtrails to alter the weather patterns. Chemtrails are real, Ron,” she added when he gave her a strange look.
“I agree; they are indeed real, but it’s still curious…why here?”
“Like I said, I can’t answer that, but it’s as if we’re being punished for something. And please don’t ask me what, because I don’t know. Hell is a nice, quiet, peaceful town. Nothing ever happens here.”
Ann pushed her chair back and stood. “This has been a delightful discussion. I’ve said all this to Harley, but he never answers.” She laughed and continued. “Thank you, for the lunch and the company, Ron, but I really need to get back home before Harley eats something he shouldn’t.” She hesitated only a moment. “Would you like to come out to my place for dinner tomorrow? I make great lasagna, and I think you know the way.”
“I’d love to, Ann. I’ll bring a bottle of wine.” Ron almost reached for her to give a hug, when she stepped forwarded and beat him to it.
Kate watched with amused interest.
L
Roy drove the truck a bit too fast to get to the Damn Inn after not finding Mallory at home. He slid sideways into a parking spot in the rear lot, and found her on the second floor changing the sheets on what had been Murphy’s bed.
“Hi, sweetie!” Mallory said cheerfully until she noticed his distress. “What’s wrong?”
“Mallory, did you kill Marjorie?” he blurted out, coming right to the point.
“What?” she stalled. Her face flushed with a surge of adrenalin, and she swallowed nervously.
“Ann Armor was at the station getting gas and talked to that detective who’s investigating all the deaths. She told him she saw you—well, not you—but described your clothes perfectly, and that you were coming from the direction of Marjorie’s and you were running. Did you kill Marjorie?” Roy repeated.
“I had to Roy! She was ruining all of our plans! You don’t understand, I HAD to!” Mallory sobbed and the tears began running down her cheeks as all the stress, tension, and guilt she’d been holding inside, burst out.
Roy gathered her into his arms and stroked her hair to calm her down. He looked down at her, a person he loved but was now a stranger to him.
“You have to talk to the detective, Mal, please,” he pleaded with a calm he didn’t feel. Inside, he was raging in anger and felt ready to explode. Is that how Mallory had felt when she plunged the knife into Marjorie?
She nodded silently, acquiescing. “Okay, Roy, I’ll talk to him, but I can’t leave Kate hanging so I have to finish this room first and then I’ll be right over; you go on ahead and tell him I’ll be there shortly,” Mallory gave him a sad smile, “I promise.” As soon as he walked out the door, she sneered and said, “Like hell I will! I’m not spending the rest of my life in jail!”
She left all the cleaning supplies on the cart, left the bed unmade, and just walked out the door. She retrieved her purple jacket, hat, scarf, and mittens from the linen closet and ran out the back. Looking frantically around, she spotted all the snowmobiles, lined up like they were waiting for her, keys dangling from the ignitions. She picked out one randomly, tossed the helmet aside that was hanging on the grip, started it up, and raced out the driveway in the opposite direction from the minimart.
When the adrenalin dump began, Mallory started crying again, the tears freezing on her cheeks. “It isn’t fair!” she screamed over and over. The tears, in spite of the salt, started freezing on her lashes, sticking them together, blurring her vision. She didn’t see the big tree lying across the road until she rammed into it, catapulting her off to the side into another tree, her broken and lifeless body visible only by her purple coat.
L
Now that the snow had stopped, Ezra was actually enjoying sitting in the high cab of the plow. On the return loop of plowing, Ezra had stopped on the other side of a fallen tree that wasn’t there when he made the first pass and was climbing down from the high cab with the chainsaw when he heard a snowmobile racing toward him. Watching Mallory sail through the air when she struck the tree was surreal and when her head made contact, it exploded in a shower of red, her face disappearing in the spray of blood. He dropped the saw and ran toward her, knowing there was no way in hell she could have survived that crash, especially without a helmet.
Kneeling beside the body, he could see it was twisted and broken and he hung his head with the loss to the community, not knowing she was a killer.
Ezra picked up the chainsaw and began the process of cutting the tree back only enough to get through so he could report the incident. Hopefully, the morgue van would be back from Brighton soon. He left Mallory where she laid, snow starting to drift over her limbs from the ever-present wind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Recognizing the detective’s SUV parked in front of the Damn Inn, Ezra pulled the plow to the side facing the car and wearily climbed down.
Inside, Ken was pacing. Roy and Marvin sat off to the side, Roy hanging his head low. How miserable he felt was obvious. Ezra solemnly approached Ken.
“Can we talk privately?”
“Just so we don’t go far. I’m waiting for our murder suspect to show up! She had promised to come to the minimart but I wasn’t about to wait,” Ken growled. “That little bitch better show up soon or I’m calling in the troops for a man hunt.”
“Who is the suspect?” Ezra hadn’t forgotten his mission, but he was suddenly very uneasy.
“Mallory Adkins, that’s who. It seems she was spotted leaving the scene, but this Ann Armor didn’t realize she held that vital piece of info until today. When she described the girl, Marvin’s nephew knew by the clothing it was his girlfriend. When he confronted her, she confessed and said she would be right over to turn herself in. She just disappeared and now I’m pissed.”
“Well, she won’t be here, so lighten up.” Ezra had an edge to his voice; he was obviously not having a good day.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s dead. Ran a snowmobile into a tree; I watched as her head…it was really gruesome, Ken, sickening. There isn’t much left of her face to recognize but I know it was her.”
The detective stood stock still with the news, then muttered, “Crap!” He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “The van is out back still collecting those gang members. I’ll go talk to them about getting the body. You want to talk to the boy?”
“No, but I will. You need to talk to her mother, though. I can’t do that.”
“Her mother? Shit, who is her mother?” Ken asked wearily.
“Betty Atkins, over at Betty’s Bakery. Please be gentle, she’s a good woman.”
With a heavy heart, Ezra sat down at the table with Roy and Marvin and told them what he had witnessed. Roy wailed in agonizing sorrow and Marvin tried but failed to comfort him. They had each lost the woman they loved in less than two days.
L
Detective Ken Rhoades slowly walked across the road to Betty’s Bakery, the tantalizing aroma’s that greeted him when he opened the door felt more like an assault to his acid-filled empty stomach.
He had supervised the retrieval of the girl’s body and had lost his lunch on the side of the newly plowed road. Only her clothes would identify her remains.
“Good afternoon!” Betty greeted him.
“Are you Betty Adkins?” he asked, getting right to his grievous task.
“Yes, I’m Betty, what can I do for you?” She continued to smile. It would be her last smile for a long time.
“Please have a seat, ma’am. I’m Detective Rhoades with the state police. I need to talk to you about your daughter.”
“Mallory? She’s not here right now but her shift starts in two hours. What’s this about?”
“I’m sure you heard about the murder of Marjorie Adams.”
“Everyone in town has heard about that. What has this got to do with Mallory?” Betty asked cautiously.
“Mallory confessed to the stabbing, ma’am.”
“That’s impossible! Mallory loved Marjorie. Everyone loved Marjorie. She’s working at the Damn Inn right now; I’ll call her and have her come right over to clear this up.” Betty stood defiant, ready to defend her daughter.
“Please sit back down, Ms. Adkins. Mallory isn’t at the Inn.” He looked down at his hands resting on the table and took a deep breath. “She stole a snowmobile from behind the Inn and a few miles outside of town ran into a tree: She’s dead; died instantly.” He thought being that direct might be the only way he could get it out.
Betty went pale. “I have to see her…”
“Trust me, Ms. Adkins, you don’t want to do that. You don’t want that to be what you remember of her. She…wasn’t wearing a helmet and went headfirst into a second tree.”
