CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

 

Typical of Minnesota winters, unpredicted snowflakes flitted through the headlights. When the weather hovered at freezing, slippery patches of black ice could show up on the roadway at any time. I tested the brakes with a light tap and a red car peeled by. Our headlights barely caught its Lexus emblem.

Jane blustered. “Idiot driver!”

I slowed even more.

Jane inhaled. “Ronnie claims the destruction of the wreath is a misdemeanor, probably done by kids.” I strained to hear her soft voice. “An investigation isn’t worth the time and manpower that he needs to take care of real crimes.”

“Does he think your break-in is a misdemeanor too?”

“They have my statement. Maybe the miscreants thought there was something of real value trussed up on the Styrofoam. Even my ring didn’t add much to the value of the theft.”

She sniffed. “I don’t think it was kids, Katie. Ronnie’s just such an—” She gasped. “Look out!”

The voices in the van went silent.

Brake lights flared in front of us and swerved, then twisted and spun. When the dancing ceased, the lights beamed at an odd angle, flickered, and went out. I crept closer, swallowed hard, and willed my heartbeat to slow down.

Jane punched in three numbers on her phone. “A car slid off the road at …” She leaned forward as we neared the small green indicator. “… mile marker thirty-seven on county road four.” I heard mumbling on the other end. “I don’t know if an ambulance is needed. You’ll stay on the line? We’ll be there in seconds.”

I rolled to a stop and put on the emergency flashers. An eerie glow illuminated the kids’ faces, eyes wide, mouths agape. “Stay here,” I cautioned releasing my seat belt. Jane nodded a ‘let’s do this’ and we opened the doors.

The front of the car had speared a pile of snow and the rear bumper hung onto a slim patch of pavement, rocking precariously. The dark-red car’s wheels spun over the narrow ditch, unable to make purchase.

As Jane reached for the driver’s door, the engine revved and I yanked her back. She dropped her phone and scrambled to dig it out before it was swallowed by the soft snow. “Hello,” she said, brushing snow from the mouthpiece. “I don’t know if anyone is hurt. The car is stuck, and we haven’t been able to see inside yet.” She listened. “Yes, please send help.”

The front door of the car creaked and a round bundle tumbled out and dropped to the ground.

“Stupid car.” The driver aimed a foot at the wheels and Jane pulled her away. “What do you think you’re doing?” The driver yanked her arm out of Jane’s grip.

Jane’s hands went up in surrender. “The car might fall if you upset the balance. Be careful. Did you leave it running?”

A pale face, wrinkled like an apple-doll, leered out from under a black fur hat. Angry words erupted from the vermillion lipstick slash at her mouth. “That’s no business of yours and keep your hands to yourself.”

Jane stepped up to the roadbed and continued her phone conversation.

“We called for help,” I said. I recognized the rotund woman from the gala, the one trying to sneak a peek at the encaustic that wasn’t there.

Her glare forced me to start back up the hill.

“Where do you think you’re going? Get me out of here,” she ordered. In my haste to obey, I slipped down the ditch. My boots collided with her footwear somewhere under the snow. She landed on top of me.

“You clumsy—” Before she finished her outburst, our two young men lifted her and guided her over the snow. Lorelei gave me a hand up.

“Thanks.” We followed their footprints out of the ditch.

Brock and Galen flanked the woman who sat in the back seat of the van, her hands braced on the frame. She was no Cinderella, but Brock replaced her shoe anyway. I swallowed a chuckle. Galen brushed at the snow on the arm of her coat.

“Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?” Jane asked. “They can send one along with the tow truck.”

The face seethed behind puckered lips and squinty eyes. “I don’t need an ambulance.” She caught Lorelei gazing at her. “Girl, what are you looking at?”

Lorelei was fast on her feet. “I-I’m admiring your beautiful coat. Mink, isn’t it? The headwrap matches perfectly.” Brock’s mouth fell open and Galen stifled a snort. Lorelei championed all creatures and loathed fur but conjured up an Oscar-worthy actress gene, playing the part we needed to keep the peace.

“Yes, they do. Thank you for noticing.” The woman’s supercilious tone softened. “You have exquisite taste. What’s your name, girl?” She patted the seat next to her. Lorelei crawled over the bulky passenger and sat.

“I’m Lorelei Calder. And these are my classmates, Brock Isaacson and Galen Tonnenson. Ms. Mackey is our history teacher.” Jane nodded. “Ms. Wilk—”

“Yes. Yes.” The woman waved in exasperation and pointed at Jane. “You there,” she said. “How long before they’ll be here with assistance?”

Jane caught herself before her eyes rolled any farther when she realized the driver deigned to include her in the conversation. “Fifteen minutes, Miss …”

“Daniella Jericho.” She raised her head and two of her chins disappeared. So did a few of her wrinkles. “Close that door, young man. It’s freezing.” She batted her eyelashes, blinking weird smoke signals in baby blue eye shadow. My stomach churned.

As the door clunked across the track, Brock raised his eyebrows. The door trapped Lorelei inside. Galen barked a laugh and Jane and I joined him.

“Poor Lorelei,” said Brock, his face contorting as he tried not to smile.

Galen’s phone dinged. His laugh stopped in his throat as he read a text. “Dr. Bluestone says it’s a comminuted fracture.” Confusion filled his face. “She broke multiple bones and needs surgery.”

Brock’s phone dinged. “It’s my mom.” He moved behind the van to return her call.

Jane’s phone dinged. She smiled. “It’s Drew.” She stepped to the front of the van and put the phone to her ear.

I stamped numbness from my feet and willed my phone to make a sound. I patted and rubbed heat into my arms. I stepped from one foot to the other and pulled out my phone, but it still didn’t ring.

When the strobing lights of the tow truck and a police car pulled up behind the van, the door slid open, and Ms. Jericho pivoted in the seat. She extended her gloved hand to Galen who assisted her as she stepped down.

All cooing smiles, she addressed the police officer appraising the predicament facing her car. “I simply don’t know what happened officer.”

We could tell him what happened.

She turned to us. “Thank you, dears.”

Where did that come from?

“I’ve got this now.” She took the officer’s arm and gushed. “My, what strong arms you have!” I think Red Riding Hood’s wolf got a bum steer.

Jane’s eyes grew large. Galen wiped the smirk off his face with his mittened hand. Lorelei shook her head. I threw a questioning look at the officer. He took down Jane’s phone number, checking it against the call collected by dispatch and said, “I know how to get hold of you. It’s cold and getting colder. Go ahead and get out of the snow. But be careful. We’ve been to several pileups in the last half hour.”

 

* * *

 

Ida’s decorations pulsed like a homing beacon. Light beamed from every window, flashing trapezoids on the snow like animated boxes.

I bounced over ice chunks up the driveway. I couldn’t wait to see how Dad’s trip went.

A crisp layer of frost covered the steps. I gripped the railing and took one stair at a time, hauling myself closer to the doorknob, mentally itemizing points to talk over with Dad and Ida.

A biting wind wound around my neck and down my back. I shuddered. The door flew open in front of me. I slipped and jerked one way as Dad said, “Hi, darlin’.”

My feet slid out from under me. My hands slapped the icy pavement and I landed in a heap. More embarrassed than hurt, I waved Dad off. “I’m okay. And thank goodness you’re here.” I crawled back to the top step. Dad held the door and I rolled inside, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Katie?” Ida stood at the sink, drying dishes. The look on her face shifted from concern to relief. “How are the roads?”

“They’re pretty iffy. We met with Mrs. Nygren at the history center, and she’s going to allow us to place a geocache in the Titanic exhibit.”

Ida tsked.

“What’s wrong?” I removed my heavy winter gear.

“She chaired the board meeting today and her micromanagement skills rubbed everyone the wrong way. I should’ve been there.” Ida leaned against the counter and in her most disapproving voice said, “I received four testy phone calls and one grouchy voicemail on our way home. Yvonne means well, but her financial acumen leaves a lot to be desired. She has no idea what’s needed to create a sound budget.

“We’ve operated on a shoestring with no extra funds. Now that there’s a little money, she doesn’t seem to want to spend any of it. But as a non-profit, we need to have a solid plan, invest in our information technology, and build a robust infrastructure.” She’d rotated a Dutch oven in her dish towel, drying it for the duration of her tirade. I took the cookware from her hands and tucked it away on the shelf above the refrigerator. “Thank you, dear. I knew you were good for something.” She and Dad shared a hoot. “Yvonne even brought up the idea of estate planning for those of us on the board, expecting us to name the history center as a beneficiary. That’s not a bad idea, except her approach was tactless. She has promised to secure future gifts from a couple of sources.” She exhaled, crumpled the dish towel, and set it on the counter.

I picked up the towel, refolded it into a neat rectangle, and lined it up parallel to the sink. Bad habit.

Dad poured a bottle of red wine into a decanter on the counter and removed two glasses from the cupboard. He reached for a third, but I shook my head.

“Soup? Hot chocolate?” Ida asked, busying herself at the stove.

“Sure. Thanks.”

When she turned back to me, she crossed her arms. “You look like you’re ready to burst. Out with it.”

“On our way home, we witnessed an accident on the county road between Columbia and the history center. A fancy car whizzed past us, driven by a maniac, and plowed into a snowbank in a ditch right in front of us. No one was hurt but Daniella Jericho is some piece of work.”

“That doesn’t cover the half of it.” Ida snorted.

Dad’s eyes bounced back and forth between us.

“She’s got a bit of money and thinks she’s better than everyone else. But I’ll say this for her. She doesn’t like coming in second. Her after-event donation rivaled Grace’s and will go a long way to provide educational opportunities at the center for visitors of the student persuasion. I still credit Grace with leading the way to record-breaking philanthropy earmarked for the children at the hospital.”

My face crumpled.

“What?” she said, her brows furrowing.

“Carlee’s a patient there.”

“What happened?”

“She fell and broke her ankle and needs surgery, but her dad …” My voice hitched saying those two words. “Her dad told us she should be fine.”

She handed me a cup of something warm and directed me to the table. Dad pulled out my chair and I sat. “Thanks.”

I took a sip of the beverage and sighed. Hot chocolate spiked with a touch of Bailey’s warmed me from the inside out. I sipped slowly. I could only have one. I had to teach in the morning.

A bowl of her butternut squash soup landed in front of me. I took three greedy spoonfuls, then said, “How did it go with Elizabeth?”