Snow Ordinary Family

  Snow Ordinary Family

  Alaska Cozy Mystery #10

  Wendy Meadows

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Thanks for Reading

  About the Author

  Read more by Wendy

  1

  Sarah felt her feet begin to do a funny dance on the icy sidewalk in front of her coffee shop. “Oh no!” she cried and then slipped and sprawled flat on her backside on the ice.

  “Los Angeles!” Amanda yelled, fighting back laughter. “Are you okay?”

  Sarah slowly rubbed her back, eased up on one elbow, and looked up at Amanda's grinning face. “I'm fine, June Bug,” she grumbled as heavy snow continued to fall down onto her face. Daylight was beginning to break, giving light to a powerful snow storm that showed no signs of stopping. “We should have stayed in Los Angeles with Pete.”

  Amanda carefully eased across the snow-covered sidewalk, gently treading on the hidden ice underneath, and leaned down to help her friend. “We helped Pete solve his case,” she said in a proud voice. “It was time to come home.”

  “I know,” Sarah replied, forcing a smile to her face. Sure, she had slipped and busted her backside. Sure, her clothes were coated in snow. Sure, she was frozen solid. But...well, life was good. “Help me stand up, June Bug.”

  Amanda took Sarah's gloved hand and helped the bruised woman get to her feet. “We'll open the café for a few hours and then go spend the rest of the day shopping at O'Mally’s,” she said over the icy winds. “And tonight, we'll eat at the diner. My treat.”

  “Deal,” Sarah beamed. “We'll make it a girls-only week. Since our husbands are so rudely yet coincidentally out of town…why not? I'm caught up on my new book. Pete is in the clear.” Sarah felt her smile widen. “We have the whole week to ourselves, June Bug.”

  “You bet we do, love,” Amanda nearly exploded with joy. “Come on and let's get inside before we freeze our tushies off.”

  Sarah rubbed her backside one more time and then hurried into her coffee shop and out of the snow storm. The coffee shop was warm, smelled of coffee and cinnamon rolls, and welcomed Sarah with loving arms. “Oh, how I love this little place,” Sarah told Amanda in a tender voice.

  Amanda quickly closed the front door and began stomping snow off her white boots. “I do, too, love,” she admitted.

  Sarah looked around the cozy front room, admired the old-fashioned touches she and Amanda had insisted upon, and then slowly removed her pink coat, pink winter hat and pair of white insulated gloves. “I wish Pete were here,” she sighed.

  Amanda glanced over at Sarah. Her best friend looked so beautiful in the soft white and yellow winter dress she had bought recently at O'Mally’s. Sure, the dress wasn't her typical style, and certainly not Sarah’s usual practical dark colors, but Sarah had been in a spring kind of mood when she had chosen such soft colors for the day, and Amanda liked seeing the effect on her. She cared about her best friend's happiness. And to her relief, Sarah did seem truly happy—more than happy, she seemed content; even though a part of her heart would always remain in Los Angeles with Pete. “Pete did promise to visit,” she pointed out.

  Sarah turned and looked into Amanda's caring face. The woman was red from the cold, wearing a grizzly bear of a coat, a thick brown ski cap and gloves thick enough to keep an elephant warm—but underneath all the layers she knew there was a warm, loving, brave woman who Sarah loved more than life. “Boop,” Sarah smiled and touched the tip of Amanda's nose.

  “Boop to you,” Amanda grinned and touched the tip of Sarah's nose back. “Now, let's make some coffee, love, before my blood turns to ice.”

  “You got it,” Sarah replied and hurried into the kitchen as Amanda removed her coat, revealing a thick, green wool dress chosen for warmth rather than style. Amanda cared about fashion and style, but on stormy, snowy days when the temperature dipped low enough to freeze a penny to a hot stove, well, the need to stay warm defeated her desire to look stylish.

  As Amanda removed her coat, the front door opened. Andrew came bursting in, his winter police parka covered in snow, and shivering all over. “Morning,” he said through a stuffy nose.

  “Shut the door quick,” Amanda begged as a gust of icy wind grabbed at her face.

  Andrew fought the door shut against the gust and began slapping snow off his coat. “Coffee ready?” he asked, sounding like a trombone stuck under water. The poor man was suffering from a terrible cold that threatened to turn into the flu—so was half of Snow Falls. Andrew ran the three-man police department even though he was barely able to show up for work himself. So far, Sarah and Amanda had managed to dodge the flu.

  “You poor dear,” said Amanda, “you sound worse today than you did yesterday.”

  Andrew removed a thick black ski cap with the state crest embroidered on the front and nodded. “I feel worse,” he admitted. “Matthew called in on me. It’s down to me and Nate.”

  “Oh dear,” Amanda gasped.

  Andrew walked over to a vintage coffee table and plopped down on his favorite cozy armchair with a view of the front windows, even though there was nothing to see but the swirling storm outside. “I could deputize some folks...” Andrew paused and anxiously glanced at Amanda.

  “Oh no,” Amanda exclaimed and threw her hands up in protest. “This is a girls’ week! Los Angeles and I are going to spend this week shopping, eating brownies, painting our nails, complaining about our husbands...no way are we going to step foot in that awful police station.”

  Sarah heard the commotion from the kitchen and stepped into the front room. She spotted Andrew sagging over in his chair, looking like a sick grizzly bear as he slowly sunk down toward the floor. “Oh, Andrew, you should be home resting,” she said with concern.

  Andrew pulled a handkerchief out of his front pocket and blew his nose so loud that Amanda winced and delicately placed a box of tissues on the table in front of him. “Matthew called in sick,” he told Sarah. “It's just me and Nate...and Nate ain't far off from being bedridden himself.”

  Amanda threw a desperate look at Sarah. “Andrew wants us to volunteer to wear the badge for a little while,” she explained and begged Sarah to say no with her eyes.

  “Conrad left town before the flu broke out,” Andrew said, deliberately trying to guilt Sarah. The trick was underhanded and not very nice—but a sick man didn't have time to be nice; a sick man wanted a warm bed, a bowl of hot soup, a glass of orange juice, and sleep...lots and lots of sleep. “I think Conrad skipped out on me on purpose.”

  Deep down Sarah knew Andrew was right: he needed help. Conrad had hurried out of Snow Falls and rushed to New York to help an old friend. The truth was that Conrad was worried about catching the flu (or so he claimed) and jumped ship, leaving Sarah to deal with the panicked passengers. Sarah didn't mind her husband leaving town—she knew that Conrad needed a break from Snow Falls and from all the stress he had been under. What Sarah did mind was being left to deal with the fussy chief of police. “Andrew, we both know Conrad has been under a great deal of stress. Pete and I were nearly killed while trying to solve his case in Los Angeles. He just...needed a break from everything, right, June Bug?”

  “Huh?” Amanda asked from her spot at the counter where she arranged fresh
muffins in the display case. She quickly locked eyes with Sarah. “Oh...yeah, sure, your bloke sure needed to rest...a long rest. Yes indeed, poor bloke was on the verge of a nervous collapse...he needed a rest...just to rest, rest, rest and rest—”

  Sarah nudged Amanda with her elbow. “I think Andrew gets it, June Bug,” she said in a desperate voice through a pained smile.

  Andrew stared at Sarah and Amanda with sick, exhausted eyes. He loved the two women like they were his own sisters—his own blood relatives—but he wasn't in the mood to be trifled with. “Sarah...Detective Garland…I could be very nice and ask you to take over for me...or I could use my authority to force you to,” he said, shoving his politeness out the door. “The city codes require me to have no less than two officers on duty at all times, and to deputize reserve members of the force if there are circumstances preventing us from meeting that quota.” Andrew snuffled and forced his legs to stand up. “Detective Garland, I'm hereby putting you in charge until further notice.” Andrew lifted a weak hand and pointed at Amanda. “I'm hereby making you an officer of the law until further notice...and...and...” Andrew stopped talking and began sneezing into his sleeve. When the sneezes stopped, he stumbled over to the front door. “Forget the coffee...I'm going home. Go down to the station...all the keys are in my desk...Nate is at his desk...send him home.”

  “But—” Amanda began to object.

  “No buts,” Andrew ordered and flung open the front door. “You’re the only two healthy people left, I think. Perform your civic duty...and...just try not to burn the town down.”

  Sarah watched as Andrew pulled his black hat down on his head, shielded his face against a powerful wind, and then vanished back out into the storm. “I guess...our shopping trip is canceled,” she sighed.

  “Oh,” Amanda said in a furious voice. She stomped one foot on the floor and braced her arms together tightly against her chest. “I could just...pow...right to the nose,” she said, aiming her anger at Andrew.

  “Well, the poor man is sick,” Sarah pointed out and then let out a heavy moan. “And...he does have a duty to the town. Conrad did desert a sinking ship. I guess it is my responsibility to...perform my civic duty, as Andrew so nicely put it.”

  “Civic duty my foot,” Amanda fussed and stomped her foot again. “He’s just getting back at you...the fink.”

  “Conrad or Andrew?” Sarah asked.

  “Both of them,” Amanda growled. “If Conrad were here we wouldn't have to cancel our shopping trip.” Amanda looked at Sarah and frowned. “I'm acting a bit silly, aren't I, love? After all, we did get caught up on our shopping while we were in Los Angeles, didn't we?”

  “After Pete and I nabbed that lousy, good-for-nothing, rotten cop,” Sarah nodded.

  Amanda unfolded her arms. “After that lousy, good-for-nothing, rotten cop nearly killed you in that awful warehouse, let’s not forget,” she pointed out. “Poor Conrad...he's going to have a nervous breakdown before he's fifty.”

  Sarah winced. “I did put him through a scare, didn't I?”

  “You and Pete vanished in the middle of the night,” Amanda told Sarah in a pained voice. “We found you in an emergency room being treated for a concussion. Yes, love, I would say you put Conrad through an awful scare.” Amanda shook her head. “I suppose...because I'm such a good-hearted person...I can't blame Conrad for needing a few days to himself.”

  Sarah began wondering if Conrad's excuse to leave town in order to escape the flu and all the stress he had been facing was true. Could it be, she worried, that her husband simply needed a break from her? “The virus...after the killer from England...that bad cop in Los Angeles that Pete and I tangled with...” she whispered. “Could I be the one running Conrad off?”

  “Oh love,” Amanda said and quickly put her hand on Sarah's shoulder, “you're not running Conrad off,” she promised. “The man just needed to take a few days and catch his breath is all. Besides, we all know that Conrad hates being sick. Every time he gets a sniffle he drinks a sea of orange juice and runs to the doctor.”

  Sarah wasn't so sure. “But am I...doing to Conrad what I did to my first husband?” she asked in a hurt voice. Yes...yes, you are...a hideous snowman chewing on a candy cane taunted Sarah. Conrad is going to divorce you, Sarah...leave you hanging high and dry...out in the cold...cold and frozen…

  “Love,” Amanda told Sarah in a stern voice, shaking her friend out of her reverie, “Conrad isn't your first husband. Conrad is...as much as I would never say this to his face...he's a good man that is dedicated to his wife and to his marriage. He’s so deeply in love with you, why, it would take a million...no...a trillion lifetimes to pry him just a simple inch away from you.” Amanda smiled and touched Sarah's nose. “You tell that nasty snowman voice in your mind to go suck an egg and stop worrying about Conrad.”

  “Do you really think Conrad doesn’t mind?” Sarah asked as tears began to swell up in her throat. Before Amanda could answer she turned away, wiped at her eyes, and then looked down at her nervous hands. “Go away,” she told the hideous snowman, “you can't hurt me anymore...go away...my husband is committed to me and I'm committed to him...so just...go away!”

  Amanda looked at Sarah's back with worried eyes and began wondering what words of comfort she might give. She tried to voice her concerns and reassurances but was interrupted when Mitchel Cochran stumbled through the front door with his ratty old cane in one hand and the morning paper in the other. “Coffee ready?” he asked in his usual gruff voice.

  Sarah turned around, spotted Mitchel, and then hurried to close the front door. “Mr. Cochran, you should be dressed warmer,” she said in an alarmed voice.

  Mitchel wasn't in the mood to be scolded by a woman young enough to be his daughter. He was an eighty-year-old man who was still tough enough to tangle with a grumpy grizzly bear. “I ain't worried about a few snowflakes falling from the sky, Sarah Garland,” he snapped. “I've lived in Alaska my entire life.” Mitch shook his head in disgust and wandered over to his usual table. “Young folks today think the world will end if it starts snowing...enough to make a man lose sleep,” he fussed. “Ruin a man’s morning paper, too.”

  Amanda looked at Sarah and grinned. She loved Mitchel very deeply and knew that the old man was one of a kind. “I guess I'll keep the shop open while you walk down to the station,” she told Sarah.

  Sarah watched Mitchel shrug off what appeared to be nothing more than a thin green windbreaker and toss it down on the floor next to his chair. “He's wearing nothing more than a spring jacket and a long sleeve button-up shirt,” she worried aloud. “He'll catch his death.” Her worries about her husband still played about in her mind as she looked on as Mitch settled in to read his paper grumpily.

  Amanda locked her eyes on Mitchel and smiled. “Love, half of the people in Snow Falls are sick with the flu. That old man is out and about in this snow, healthy as a butterfly in a warm breeze. I don't think we have to worry about him.”

  Mitchel raised his hard face and looked at Sarah. “Are you going to serve me my coffee or am I going to have to take my business elsewhere?”

  “Oh, stop fussing and hush,” Amanda scolded Mitchel. “You just read your paper and mind your manners or I'll kick you out of here. You know darn well we brew the best coffee in town and that’s why you keep coming here, you old goat.”

  Mitchel mumbled something, snatched off his red and black hunting cap, rattled open his newspaper to another section, and went on reading. “I guess I'll go to the station and send Nate home,” Sarah told Amanda as a sweet smile replaced her fear of losing Conrad. She watched Mitch as he perused the paper with a frown and a squint. “He is something, isn't he?”

  “The old-timers always are,” Amanda smiled back at Sarah. “I'll hurry to his coffee and see you at the diner around lunch.”

  “Deal,” Sarah promised and quickly put on her coat, ski hat, and gloves, and slipped outside into the snowstorm. The world outside was frozen, white and silent
aside from the winds howling through the mountains and trees around them. Not a person or vehicle was moving. For a moment Sarah stood very still, absorbing the frozen beauty covering Snow Falls. “My beautiful life,” she whispered, “let’s just keep it beautiful, can we?” She carefully walked through the icy snowbanks to the police station not knowing that a murder—a very unusual murder—was about to take place on her watch.

  Sarah walked into Conrad's office, closed the door, and then eased down behind his desk on cold legs. “I wish you were here, honey,” she whispered. A photo of Sarah and Conrad in front of the old lone cabin in the untamed wilderness was perched on Conrad's desk. Sarah looked at the photo, remembering that day, studying Conrad's smiling face filled with love and peace, and sighed. “Oh Conrad, I hope I'm not running you off,” she said and then studied her own face. “We were so happy that day. I look very happy...and so does Conrad. We belong together.”

  Nate knocked on the office door, stuck his face into the office, and said in a miserable, sick voice: “Okay, Sarah, I'm all cleaned up. The morning reports are finished and filed away.”

  “Oh, I would have worked on the morning reports,” Sarah assured Nate.

  “More habit than necessity,” Nate explained and then blew his nose into a yellow handkerchief. The poor man looked horrible. “It’s just a few questions I fill out, then stamp with the department seal and file away. Not much to it. Been doing the same report for years. Anyway, if it's okay I think I'll go on home. Becky made me some soup and I’m dying on my feet here.”

  “Of course,” Sarah told Nate, “but before you go, I need to ask you a few quick questions.”