Danger in the Snow Read online

  “He’s making fun of me,” Amanda complained.

  “Is he?” Sarah asked and gave Conrad a look that said Please, not tonight.

  Conrad smiled. “Okay,” he whispered and continued to stoke the fire as the snowstorm raging outside howled and screamed. Conrad didn't mind the storm. The living room was warm, toasty and cozy. The warmth of the living room fought off the dangerous, icy fingers of the night, allowing Conrad to enjoy the snowstorm from a safe haven.

  “Here, honey,” Sarah said and handed Amanda a coffee.

  “Thanks, love,” Amanda sighed.

  Sarah handed a coffee to Conrad and gazed into the fire. It crackled and leapt with warmth in the fireplace. “The fire is lovely,” she said and hugged Conrad's arm. “I love nights like this...snow storms...warm fires...hot coffee…a writer's dream.”

  Conrad looked into Sarah's eyes, found his home, kissed the tip of her nose, and smiled. “You can shovel my truck out tomorrow morning,” he teased.

  “Oh, I'll leave that to you,” Sarah laughed. She sat down on the couch. “Now,” she said in a relaxed voice, “I'm hoping this snowstorm will prevent anyone from traveling into Snow Falls anytime soon. Our town is safe for the night.”

  Conrad agreed. He put down the fire iron, placed his coffee on the mantle of the fireplace, and removed his black leather jacket. “This storm is forecasted to dig itself in for a while,” he said.

  Amanda watched Conrad hang his leather jacket on a wooden coat rack next to the front door. She liked the leather jacket but didn't care so much for the gray sweater he wore under it, which Sarah had knitted for him; Conrad didn't care so much for the sweater himself, but what could a husband say or do when his wife presents him with a gift she slaved over? “Just you wait. Bertha will find a way into Snow Falls...that woman hates me,” she said in a miserable voice.

  Conrad walked back to the fireplace, took his coffee, eased over to a comfortable brown sitting chair that he insisted (well, begged) Sarah to let him have, and sat down. “Amanda, is this old lady truly as bad as you're making her out to be?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Amanda said. She took a sip of coffee and then eyed a plate of freshly baked brownies on the coffee table. “Why not?” she asked herself and snatched up a brownie. “I might as well die fat and happy.”

  “Oh honey,” Sarah said, “you’re not going to die. No one is going to hurt you. Conrad and I are going to guard you every second Bertha is in town.”

  Amanda shifted her eyes to Conrad. “Bertha will have this poor bloke eating out of her hand in a matter of minutes,” she promised Sarah.

  Sarah looked at Conrad. Conrad shrugged his shoulders. “I'm a sap?” he asked.

  “Not a sap...a man,” Amanda sighed. “There isn't a man alive who can resist Bertha's...charm.” Amanda nibbled on her brownie. “Bertha can sweet-talk a grizzly bear into giving up a freshly caught fish.”

  Sarah sipped at her coffee. She believed every word her best friend said but didn't want to spend the night fretting over someone who was being kept at bay by a powerful snowstorm. Sarah knew she would deal with Bertha when the old woman arrived, and until then, she simply wanted to enjoy the night with her husband and dearest friend. But, she thought, because Amanda was her dearest friend, Sarah didn't want to diminish any kind of worry that needed to be discussed. “June Bug, are you certain this woman is traveling to Snow Falls to harm you?”

  Conrad leaned forward and took a brownie. “It's been many years since you've last seen this Bertha lady,” he told Amanda. “Why would she wait all these years to harm you?”

  “Because Bertha had no idea where I was living,” Amanda confessed. “After I left my parents’ home and went off to school, she couldn’t find me.” Amanda stared at her brownie and then looked around the warm living room. “Back in those days you didn't have the internet,” she continued. “Today you can track anyone down just using their name. But in those days, things were different, especially in London. I kept my name unlisted in the phonebooks and directories and made sure I was never mentioned in the local newspapers or university publications. Bertha couldn't simply type my name into a search engine and track me down like a hound scenting a fox.”

  “Things sure were different in those days,” Sarah agreed.

  “Better,” Amanda sighed. “Not that it stopped crimes completely. Cruel people determined to harm others will always find a way to do it. But at least you could avoid the public eye if you wanted to.” Amanda looked toward the fireplace and studied the fire. She listened to the fire crackling as it burned the heavy logs Conrad had brought in from outside. The scent of the steady fire cast a gentle, warm feeling around the living room that calmed the worried heart. “When I married and took my husband’s last name, I felt sure that Bertha would never be able to locate me. Besides,” Amanda explained, “my mother told me Bertha had left London and moved into the country.”

  “And you never saw her again?” Conrad asked.

  “Not once,” Amanda replied. “Not until my husband and I walked into that home nurse agency.”

  Conrad took a bite of brownie. “Amanda, are you sure you're not overreacting?” he asked. “It seems excessive for her to exact revenge over being fired from a nanny job so many decades ago. It’s not as if she never found a job again – obviously she’s doing fine.”

  “No,” Amanda said in a stern voice. “Conrad, I'm not some hysterical schoolgirl worrying about an old teacher threatening to smack my hand with a ruler.”

  Sarah read something in Amanda's eyes that worried her. “June Bug, is there something you're keeping from us?”

  Amanda grew silent. She kept her eyes on the fire. After a couple of moments passed, she said, “Bertha threatened to kill me.”

  “Kill you?” Sarah asked.

  Amanda rubbed her wrist. “The day my mother dismissed her and told her to leave our home, Bertha went to her room and began packing. She spotted me watching her from the upstairs hallway...I had snuck up there alone. Mother was downstairs in the living room waiting for her.” Amanda raised her eyes and looked at Sarah. “Bertha's face twisted into an evil look...the look of a true monster. On her way downstairs, she leaned forward and whispered into my ear the words...the words...”

  “What?” Sarah asked.

  “‘Someday I will return and punish you.’”

  Conrad glanced at Sarah and then looked at Amanda. “Amanda, did Bertha say she would actually try to harm you?”

  “I just told you what she—”

  “You said Bertha promised to punish you,” Conrad pointed out. “That could mean anything from a slap on the behind to no dessert for a week. Those words, even spoken with malice years ago, wouldn't hold up in a court of law.”

  “I'm afraid Conrad is right,” Sarah agreed.

  “I know, I know,” Amanda said in despair. “That’s the worst part. Bertha is clever...she would never put herself in a situation where she could be held responsible.” Amanda closed her eyes. “The way she spoke those awful words...there was murder in her voice.”

  “And you believe this woman is coming here to fulfill that old promise?” Conrad asked.

  “What, do you have ears full of wax? Haven't you been listening to me?” Amanda exploded at Conrad. Then she sighed. “I'm sorry. Thinking back to all of this makes me so upset. I didn't mean to shout at you like a child.”

  Sarah sipped at her coffee and listened to the winds rushing through the pine forest outside. “June Bug, when Bertha arrives, I'm going to send her away. I know your husband will complain, but I'll explain the situation to him when he returns home. There's no sense in your being upset like this.”

  “He will be furious with me,” Amanda worried. “The money…”

  “I'll pay him back the money he spent on Bertha,” Sarah assured Amanda and patted her hand. “He'll come out even-steven. I'll even pay to fly Bertha back to London.”

  “That's a good idea and the simplest solution,” Conrad agreed. “Yea
rs of being a cop has taught me that if a person is afraid, deep down in their gut, there's no sense in running around the block searching for a concrete reason. It's better to treat the problem before it can cause a problem and figure out why it happened later. If Bertha turns out to be harmless, well then, she’s had a free, if short, trip to Alaska. If she’s not harmless…well, we’ve sent her off. No need to wait around and find out what she’s planning.”

  Sarah glanced down at her right arm and rubbed the band-aid hiding beneath her sleeve. “Problems seem to find us no matter where we go,” she said, thinking back to the hot springs. “Remember when Amanda and I were fighting that deadly virus? And now every week we have to have our blood tested.” Sarah looked up. “Your husband may be right to worry about you getting into trouble, but I would rather send Bertha away before she can become another virus to worry about.”

  Amanda felt relief wash her worries away. “You two will honestly deal with my hubby when he returns from London?” she asked.

  “We promise,” Sarah said and patted Amanda's arm.

  “Cross our hearts,” Conrad smiled and then nodded toward the front window. “I doubt we'll be seeing Bertha anytime soon, anyway. This snowstorm is going to be with us for a while. The roads leading in and out of Snow Falls are going to be impassable.”

  “Well...that is true,” Amanda replied, feeling hope rise in her heart. “Oh, maybe I'm acting a bit too silly,” she said, trying to calm down. “Here I am fretting over my hubby becoming angry at me over a woman whose memory I've let scare me for far too long. Let him become angry if he will...because when Bertha does arrive, we'll all three send her packing.”

  “That's my girl,” Sarah smiled. “Now, who is up for a game of Scrabble?”

  “Not me,” Amanda said and pointed at Conrad, “He cheats.”

  “I do not cheat,” Conrad protested.

  “Oh really?” Amanda asked, forcing Bertha away from her worried mind, “then do tell me, sir, how the word lateritious is spelled with only one ‘i.’ Last time I checked there were two ‘i’s.”

  Sarah sighed, sipped at her coffee, and settled back on the couch and waited for the debate of the century to begin. “It’s laterous, not lateritious. The word requires one ‘i,’ not two,” Conrad corrected Amanda.

  “Rubbish! Not according to the dictionary.”

  “The dictionary is wrong,” Conrad replied and polished off his brownie. “My word was legal.”

  Amanda threw both hands up in the air, nearly spilled her coffee, and exclaimed: “You cheated!”

  “I did not cheat,” Conrad griped. “My word was legal.”

  “Maybe in New York where you yanks like to swan around telling everyone to Fuhgeddaboudit.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Forget about what, for crying out loud?”

  Sarah smiled and glanced at Conrad, who could be touchy about his Scrabble prowess. “Forget about your dry muffins, for starters,” he muttered into his coffee mug.

  “Dry…muffins?” Amanda asked. “Did you just call my perfectly baked scones…dry muffins?”

  Conrad froze. “Uh...maybe I better go refill my coffee,” he said, realizing he had pushed Amanda too far.

  “I would run,” Sarah giggled.

  Conrad stood up uneasily. “I'll be right back,” he said in a careful voice.

  Amanda pointed her coffee cup at Conrad. “Get the Scrabble board ready, yank,” she ordered him, “because this dry muffin is going to kick your can, as you Americans say.”

  Conrad eased toward the kitchen. “How about...Monopoly instead?” he asked and hurried away.

  Amanda giggled. “Your hubby can face down a deadly criminal but is scared of little ol' me.”

  Sarah laughed and stood up to stretch her legs. “Good thing he’s got me to keep him safe from the likes of you,” she joked. Sarah walked over to the fireplace with her coffee and examined the wedding photos framed on the mantle. One photo displayed a very happy Sarah and Conrad eating a piece of wedding cake together. “We've come a long way,” she smiled.

  “Yes, you have, love,” Amanda agreed. She stood up and walked over to Sarah. “I always knew you and Conrad would end up as one heart.”

  “I know, June Bug, and I'm very grateful,” Sarah said in a soft voice. “Conrad makes me very happy. We love each other and accept each other for who we are...as people...cops...Christians...and husband and wife. I'm very blessed to have found love again.”

  “Sometimes,” Amanda admitted, “I'm afraid to lose the love I have. I'm afraid of what would happen if I lost...my husband. That's why I agreed to let Bertha stay at the cabin. My husband has always taken care of me and he loves me...but lately I've put a real strain on his heart. Every adventure you and I end up on is like a weight pulling him down. I don’t want to be a burden to him. If...if having Bertha watch over me makes him feel better, who am I to say no?” Amanda sighed. “I'm afraid he might grow tired of my adventures here and insist we move back to London—or worse, divorce me and leave me altogether.”

  “Oh June Bug, he would never do that,” Sarah promised. “Your husband couldn't live a day without you. Now, sure, we've both caused our husbands some worry, but that's where love comes in, June Bug. When two people love each other they work through life's ups and downs together.” Sarah gently reached out and hugged Amanda. “For better or for worse, right? Besides, our problems are over with. Honestly, what could be worse than being exposed to that awful virus?”

  Amanda felt a smile touch her lips. “Nothing,” she admitted. “It does seem like after that, all other problems are minor, doesn't it, love?”

  “Yes,” Sarah agreed, remembering sitting in a hot springs, feeling the waters burn the deadly virus out of her body. “Now, let's not worry about anything else tonight. We'll go into the kitchen, play Monopoly until four in the morning, drink coffee until we burst, and then pass out dreaming of boardwalks and top hats.”

  “Deal,” Amanda agreed and began to walk off toward the kitchen with Sarah. As she did, the living room phone rang.

  “I'll get it,” Sarah said and hurried to answer the phone. “Hello...why, yes, she's here...Who is this?” Sarah's eyes went wide. She threw her hand over the phone. “It's...Bertha,” she whispered. “She's at the police station.”

  “What?” Amanda gasped.

  Sarah lowered her hand. “Uh...Amanda is...unavailable to come to the phone right now...Oh, I see...well, the roads are very bad and we—yes, I understand...But perhaps it would be best to have Andrew drive you to the local hotel for the night?”

  Amanda gulped down her coffee and waited.

  “I understand you've had a very long trip, ma’am, but because of the weather I'm afraid it's far too dangerous to risk the roads—no, please don't have anyone drive you to my cabin...” Sarah looked at Amanda with wide eyes and then focused back on the call. “Have the nice police man drive you to the local inn and we'll figure out something tomorrow…Yes, I'll tell Amanda to call you. Goodnight.” Sarah put down the phone. “June Bug,” she said, “you were right...that woman is crafty as a black widow spider.”

  “And now she's in our town,” Amanda said and plodded toward the kitchen to refill her coffee. It was going to be a very long night.

  2

  Conrad called Andrew as soon as Sarah hung up the phone. Andrew was sitting in his office staring across his desk at a little old lady who made his skin crawl. “Yeah, the storm is getting worse,” he told Conrad in a worried voice. “Tom just ran his last plow run for the night about an hour ago. I'll be heading home on my snowmobile if Tom doesn't make it out by morning. I hate pulling the night shift, but fair is fair.” Andrew kept his eyes on Bertha. The woman was staring at him with eyes colder than the storm outside.

  “How did Bertha get to the station house?” Conrad asked.

  “Some crazy cabbie from Fairbanks looking to make a few extra dollars hooked a plow to his truck and drove her in,” Andrew explained. “I figured he was probably some low-life if h
e was dumb enough to take a drive like that. He looked like he spent time in prison for running drugs. I ran his plates and—”

  “He was a very nice young man,” Bertha snapped at Andrew in a thick British accent that sounded rotten with malice. Bertha raised her sturdy wooden cane and shook it at Andrew. “Watch your tongue.”

  Andrew leaned back in his chair and studied Bertha. The old woman was wearing her gray hair wrapped in a tight bun that seemed to pull her wrinkled face into an ugly, sour lemon. Her teeth were somewhat crooked, and her breath smelled awful, like rotted fish. The woman perched on the chair in his office was wearing a thick brown coat but even through that layer he could see her frame was skeletal, like an aged bird. Somehow, Andrew was sure she wasn’t wearing a comfortable, soft old granny dress underneath that coat. “Conrad, I can't take this woman to the hotel…Sarah should have asked before she offered that option…Looks like she's going to be spending the night here at the station.”

  “I insist you take me to—” Bertha began to declare.

  Andrew held up a quick hand. “Ma’am, I would drive you to the governor’s mansion for the night if I could, but the roads are impassable with the winds kicking up the snow drifts, and they will remain that way until the plows tackle everything tomorrow. Until then, I'm the cop on duty for the town and I’m not risking getting my truck stuck in a drift.”

  Bertha huffed and leaned back. She said nothing but her haughty eyes held nothing but contempt for the officer.

  Listening in to Andrew’s conversation over the phone, Conrad looked over at the kitchen table. Sarah and Amanda were watching him. “Just keep her at the station house, Andrew. I'll be down as soon as the plow runs out my way.”

  “What choice do I have?” Andrew sighed and grabbed his coffee. “I just had to switch night shifts with you, didn't I? If only I had stayed on my schedule.”

  “You're the one who wanted last Thursday night off to take your wife into Fairbanks. But don't sweat it, you guys needed the time together. I'm glad you drove into Fairbanks and got out of town for a while.”