Snowed Under, page 23
My temper rose. I was too tired to keep it completely under control, and my best friend’s statement put me on the defensive. I took a too-generous slug of my drink, swallowed wrong and coughed, spraying whipped cream on the coffee table. Stephen brought me some water and wiped up the spill. He was silent, leaving Tess and I to sort things out. By the time I got my coughing under control, I’d cooled off.
“I’m not saying we should abandon Elisabeth and Leslie. Of course not. But are we actually helping?” I looked to Stephen for support. He closed his eyes.
“Stephen’s here,” I said. “If we need his protection, it means we must be in greater danger now than we’ve been since we arrived.”
“I brought my pal Rocket for backup,” Stephen added.
Tess’s eyes grew wide and a sheen of sweat coated her forehead. “Rocket’s here?”
Stephen nodded. “We’re taking this very seriously.”
I filled Tess in on what I’d learned from Amrita about Noah and his possible criminal connections. Stephen contributed the details he’d learned from his brief inspection of the maintenance shed and from talking to Quinn.
“Rocket’s here to help, but I’m hoping we won’t need him.” Stephen added.
Tess stood, walked to the window, and peered out through a gap in the closed drapes. “Is he out there now? Will he be safe, with the storm coming?” She turned her back on the window. “He’s welcome inside. You know that.”
“He’s a marine,” Stephen said, which in his mind, I knew, was sufficient explanation. But for my sake and Tess’s peace of mind, he fleshed out the statement. “He would rather be outside than in, and he knows what he’s doing. He’s a Red Hat.”
“A Red Hat?” Tess said, saving me from asking the question myself.
Stephen gazed at the ceiling in false show of impatience. Tess and I both knew he loved explaining marine operations to uneducated civilians. “Red Hats are instructors at the Mountain Training Center. Rocket teaches winter skills.”
“I thought he had done bomb-squad stuff.” I must have picked up that impression on one of our earlier encounters with Rocket, or inferred it because of his name.
“That too,” Stephen said.
“Nothing changes the fact that time is running out for us,” I said. “I’ve got a new job coming up early next month. If we’re not doing any good here, I’d like to get home and prepare for that. Koko said my car might be ready tomorrow. We could leave as soon as we pick it up. What do you think?”
Stephen drained his drink and set down his mug. He arranged it so the handle and the coaster were parallel to the edge of the coffee table. “Another storm is blowing in. Colder temperatures, more snow, and high winds, but shorter duration. Should be over by noon tomorrow, but I don’t know how long it will take to get the roads clear.”
I turned to Tess, the local expert. She grimaced. “It’s hard to say. But with this storm on top of the earlier ones, skiing conditions will be awesome as soon as the weather clears. We still have three teenaged boys who were promised a ski trip. What if we stayed through next weekend? Max could bring Teddy, Brian, and David. Knowing them, they never unpacked the car.”
Before I could mount an argument, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. “Hey Max,” I said. “We were just talking about you.” I stood and moved to the kitchen. Max had come to the same conclusion about the weather that Tess had and proposed a similar plan.
“I’m not sure it’s safe,” I said.
“What do you mean? If it’s not safe, you and Tess shouldn’t be up there. You need to leave tonight.”
I explained why we couldn’t. Besides the fact that my car wasn’t ready yet, Tess’s tires weren’t up to the trip. Max suggested that Stephen or Paolo could bring us home.
“I’m sure they could. But leaving now would put us in the middle of the storm. Deliberately heading into blizzard conditions over Donner Pass would be trading one danger for another.”
In the silence that followed, I could hear and feel Max’s frustration. His macho instincts fired up when his family was in danger. The only surefire antidote was action. But in this case, action wasn’t the wisest move.
He let out an audible sigh. “Sit tight then. Call me when the storm’s over tomorrow and we’ll regroup.”
“By then, all the danger will have passed, I’m sure.” I spoke with more confidence than I felt.
“Are you and Stephen plotting one of your schemes?”
“It’s perfectly safe,” I argued, negating my statement to the contrary moments before. Stephen and I had not yet made a plan, but Max’s question helped me decide upon my next step. We needed to bring Noah out of hiding.
Before we ended the call, I talked to each of the boys, both of whom seemed to be having a great time with their dad, barely missing me. They each snuck in a pitch for the ski weekend. I finished up the call with Max, promising that we’d keep safe.
I only felt a tiny bit guilty when I returned to the living room and interrupted Tess and Stephen’s conversation to formulate a plan that might, truth be told, involve a little more danger than I’d let Max believe.
“This is what we have to do…” I began.
Chapter 28
A good system shortens the road to the goal.
—Orison Swett Marden, founder of Success Magazine, 1848-1924
Monday, February 22, Evening (Presidents’ Day holiday)
My strategy was simple. We needed to lure Noah into the open and expose him for the bad actor he was. But we needed to accomplish that goal without endangering anyone else. The balance would be tricky.
“Why not go straight to the police?” Stephen asked. “Quinn seems like a good cop.”
“Amrita is the best weapon there is against Noah, and the person most likely to draw him out. Right now she thinks of herself as a victim. But we can alter that. We have to. She can become the agent of change, the warrior who restores the balance between good and evil.”
“You sound like you’re pitching a screenplay,” Tess said.
I ignored her. “Help me flesh out my plan. Once it’s solid, we can bring Quinn in on it. He’ll notice any activity going on over here anyway. And Max won’t worry as much if I tell him we included the authorities.”
“Spill.” Tess leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.
“Job one is to keep everyone safe from the storm and the bad guys. Let’s invite everyone in the neighborhood here, tomorrow tonight. With everyone in one place, we’ll use fewer batteries and candles than we would if we were each holed up in our own homes. And if we need protection, we’ll all be easier to keep safe if we’re all together.”
“Or a bigger target.” Tess pursed her lips. “But it could work.”
Stephen cleared his throat. “Maggie’s right. With everyone here, Quinn will be able to focus his resources in one place to keep everyone safe and nab Noah.”
We firmed up the details and phoned Quinn, telling him what we had in mind.
I tapped the speaker button on my phone so everyone could hear. “I’ve got no problem with getting the neighbors together,” Quinn said. “In fact, I’ve got a massive amount of shrimp I flew in to bring a little New Orleans flavor to the high country. It started to thaw when the power went out, and if I don’t use it soon it will go bad.”
“That’d be a crime,” Stephen said.
Quinn snorted and said he’d bring the shrimp over in the morning and help pin down a few more of the details. In the meantime, I called Leslie to invite her and the kids to the shindig and ask if we could borrow Amrita the next day to assist us with setting up.
“She’s on her way back from the grocery store, but I’m sure she’d love to,” Leslie said. “But I’ll send her over after breakfast tomorrow.”
As we called it a night, the storm started again, later than expected and moving slowly. All indications were that it would dump more snow than anticipated, stalling directly over our heads. I was beginning to hate snow and the sound of the wind.
* * * *
The next morning, we were just finishing our coffee and getting ready to start the kitchen cleanup when Quinn arrived lugging a cooler full of shrimp. Stephen took it from him, and Quinn went back for the rest of the barbecue fixings which included pounds of butter and special Cajun seasonings.
Amrita texted “On my way!” and came right over.
“Spread newspaper all over the dining table,” Quinn told her when she’d kicked off her boots and shrugged her way out of her coat. “You can help clean the shrimp.”
To her credit, Amrita did as she was asked, without whining or launching into further questions. Unloading her secret concerns about Noah seemed to have already lightened her mood.
While we worked, we outlined the scheme for the neighborhood gathering. Amrita was excited and eager to help. We’d bring the neighbors together so we’d be sure everyone was safe. Amrita would arrange to meet Noah after midnight when everyone else would supposedly be asleep. No matter where Noah suggested they go, Amrita would insist he pick her up at Tess’s, where they could get together in the garage and then figure out where to go from there.
It wasn’t a plan that would have worked for capturing a sensible adult, but we were confident Noah’s interest in Amrita would override any suspicions he might have about the meeting place or other arrangements. He’d been trying to lure her to the shed, so meeting in the garage wasn’t too much of departure from someplace he’d suggest on his own.
But when we launched into the details for phase two, the part that hinged on Amrita’s participation, she wasn’t immediately on board. Quinn backed her up. “Unless Amrita is completely confident, I’ll shut down this escapade. We’ll just have a great party while the storm rages. Nothing like some Louisiana Zydeco tunes to keep everyone on their feet and toasty warm on a cold night.”
“Noah has it coming to him,” Amrita said, cleaning shrimp and placing them in flat pans. “I just don’t want anyone around here knowing how stupid I was, believing that he cared for me.”
“You’re not a victim,” I told Amrita. “And tonight we’re going to prove it.”
Amrita nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. She looked at Quinn. “Do people need to know I thought that creep was my friend?”
Quinn rubbed his chin. “How ’bout we make sure all the key players are on the same page? Everyone else will know eventually. It’s a small town. But by the time the whole story gets out, we can focus on how you helped us shut down a crime ring. You’ll be the warrior hero. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Amrita. She still appeared twitchy and anxious, but she was all in.
“We’ll wire you up,” Quinn said. “Listen in and keep you safe.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to embarrass anyone, but Noah has been pressuring Amrita for sex. What are the chances that Noah would find a wire?”
Amrita’s face flushed. “Dead certain.”
“We’ll go old school,” said Tess, disappearing down the hall toward the back bedrooms. A few moments later she returned, holding aloft something that looked like a big white plastic radio. “Baby monitor.” She sidled up next to me and nudged me in the ribs. “Sometimes clutter can be a good thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m never going to be able to convince you to toss anything after this.”
* * * *
We spent the rest of the day prepping for the party, inviting Tess’s local friends to a shrimp feed and sleepover to wait out the storm. Amrita, Stephen, and Quinn rehearsed the teen’s confrontation with Noah.
During a brief evening lull in the storm, the guests started to arrive, carrying an odd assortment of sleeping bags, board games, and contributions for the feast.
Siobhan brought desserts and improved the efficiency of the food service operation we’d cobbled together. She roped the Zimmers into transporting some of her catering tables and chairs to augment the seating. Tess’s cupboards held the variety of dinnerware any family-owned vacation cabin accumulates after several generations. Ryan busied himself carrying armloads of wood to stoke the fire, but body heat and the propane oven warmed the room quickly and kept it toasty.
Elisabeth brought Duke, who commanded attention with his constant yapping. Tess suggested we put all the dogs together in the game room downstairs, push back the living room furniture, and dance. Quinn hooked his Louisiana play list to the speakers and my anxiety fled. After hours of supervising the party preparations, the dogs put up only a halfhearted resistance to being banished to the ground floor.
I escorted the animals downstairs, filled water bowls, and turned up the heat. Munchkin claimed one of the beds while Mozart and Winston settled on opposite ends of the sofa. Belle turned her woeful brown eyes my way and tilted her head.
“I’m onto your Jedi golden retriever tricks,” I told her. “Be good. Keep your friends company.” I still felt a little bit guilty as I closed the door. Duke put up a few token yaps but calmed quickly.
I returned to the living-room-turned-dance-hall where enthusiasm and energy outpaced style and coordination. Harry and Naomi entertained everyone with frenetic and inventive dance moves that were difficult for anyone else to duplicate.
By eleven o’clock, Elisabeth was clearly fading. “I’m headed downstairs,” she told me. “I’m going to see if I can interest the kids in checking on the dogs and keeping them company.”
Our plan had included the extra safety measure of keeping the children and the dogs as far away from Noah as possible. Elisabeth would take them all into the bunk room. With any luck, they’d sleep through whatever happened.
“Do we have to go to bed?” Naomi whined as Harry rubbed his eyes.
“Absolutely not,” Leslie answered. “But you have to be quiet so the dogs can sleep.”
Naomi and Harry consulted each other.
Naomi was silently appointed chief negotiator. “And we can sleep in our own sleeping bags?” she asked.
“Of course,” Elisabeth said.
“Did you bring yours?”
I knew that Elisabeth had planned to curl up in the bed she’d slept in during her earlier visit, and would have preferred the comfort of real sheets and a down comforter, but she took one for the team. “I’m hoping Tess has one I can borrow.”
“In the cupboard under the stairs,” Tess said. “There’s a purple one that would be perfect for you. But take whatever you find. They’re all clean.”
Loud conspiratorial whispers and giggles accompanied Elisabeth and the children down the stairs and provided narration for the selection of a sleeping bag fit for a queen.
Everyone who remained upstairs seemed to know how we hoped the rest of the night would unfold. Among friends Amrita had lost her shyness and found her courage. As the dancing wound down, everyone pitched in to restore order, allowing Tess to advise them on the proper location for the sofas. Siobhan directed the kitchen detail.
Ryan set up a board game on the coffee table and walked the gang through the many convoluted rules. Amrita, Quinn, Stephen, and I sat on the stairs, reviewing the details of the plan one last time.
“Everyone up here is going to be as quiet as possible,” I said. “Since Noah thinks you’re sneaking out to see him while everyone is asleep.”
“I warned him to be super quiet. I said that if Leslie finds us she’ll be furious.”
Quinn fiddled with the baby monitors. He’d agreed to use them for back up, but Paolo had brought over more high-tech police-issue microphones and recording devices, set them up, and tested them. He and Quinn would listen in on headsets.
“I’ll need to get Noah to tell me who he works for and what happened to Dev.” Amrita checked her watch. “I better get down to the garage. It’s almost midnight.”
I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got your back. If you’re in trouble, just say ice dancing.” We’d struggled to create a code word that Amrita wouldn’t use in ordinary conversation with Noah, but that she could utter reasonably if she needed to alert us to a problem.
Stephen clapped her on the back. “You’ve got this,” he told her. “Try to keep him near the door to the house.”
“I’ll take him a plate of food and put it on top of the counter next to the door,” Amrita said. “But why do you want us there, exactly?”
“Tactical concerns,” Stephen said, which didn’t really answer the question.
A muffled woof from Munchkin and a light tapping at the front door told us Noah had arrived. It was 12:15 a.m. “Unusually prompt,” Amrita muttered as she tiptoed down the stairs.
The rest of us surrounded the baby monitor, which had earned pride of place in the center of the dining table. Stephen switched it on as we heard the connecting door to the garage open and then snick shut.
Chapter 29
A man’s brain originally is like a little empty attic…the skillful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work…all in the most perfect order.
—Sherlock Holmes, A Study in Scarlet
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, British writer. 1859-1930
Wednesday, February 24, Just after midnight
I shuddered as Noah’s oily voice filled the room. “It’s cold, babe. Let me warm you up.”
“You’re late.” Amrita spoke with a tiny quaver in her voice that could have been the fault of bad reception.
“If you ran away with me, we wouldn’t have to worry about meeting up like this.” Noah’s voice rose and fell in volume. Either the monitor was faulty or he was exploring the garage. I clenched my fists, hoping he wouldn’t spot the listening devices. Tess grabbed my hand and held on tight.
