Chapter Ten

 

“I’m meteorologist Jim Topling and have I got bad news for the entire Shenandoah area.”

Snickers barked once and then ran from the kitchen into the living room.

Jane flicked her eyes at James as the two stood watching the tiny television in their kitchen.

“Snow!” Eliot yelled from his place at the kitchen table.

Jane hushed him and turned the TV volume up.

“The conditions are ripe for an epic snowstorm, a history-making snowpocalypse set to dump up to twenty-six inches of snow on an unsuspecting populace! Unsuspecting, that is, unless you stay tuned to my updates here on WSHN. Be prepared, folks, if you can. I’m talking road closures and power outages lasting days. Drifts of snow piling up to three feet. When is it going to happen? Well, it’s a devious storm system. Hard to predict exactly when the first flakes of doom will fall. It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow, it could be Sunday.”

James walked over and turned the television off. “I can’t take any more of this guy.”

“When is it going to snow, Daddy?”

“Pop says when the hound next door to his house starts howling.”

Jane said, “I think I’ll believe the hound over that guy on TV.”

James glanced at his watch. “Come on, son, if we hurry, we can feed the birds before we walk to the bus stop.”

Eliot brought his plate, now empty of any trace of pancakes, to the sink, then raced upstairs.

Miss Pickles positioned herself in the window nearest the bird feeder. James privately thought the cat understood every word he said. She knew that, with food in the feeder, she’d soon get to give a piece of her mind to the birds that came by for an energy snack.

James pulled a brown bag containing his lunch out of the fridge. He turned and found Jane standing behind him, a playful look on her face. “Do I get a kiss before you go?”

“Don’t you always?” James breathed before kissing his wife warmly on the lips. He pulled away and said, “Sure you won’t come with me tonight to the first Hearth and Home event?”

“I’m sure. We might get all that snnoooowwwww,” Jane said and laughed.

“Thank you for being so understanding about this, sweetheart. I won’t be late.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, James Henry.”

James kissed her again.

“Dad!” Eliot stood behind Jane wearing his warmest coat with the hood tied and mittens.

James quickly put on his coat and scarf, handed Eliot his monkey-shaped lunch bag, grabbed the birdseed from the utility room, and opened the back door. A blast of February air hit him in the face along with the delicious scent of a wood fire burning nearby.

“All right, son. Have you got the scoop ready?”

“Hold the bag open wider. Okay, I’m ready. The birds will eat all this and be warm.”

“Good boy.” As he held Eliot up to the multilevel birdhouse that Gillian had given him one Christmas, James focused on his son and tried not to think about how much he disliked the dark days of winter. He dreamed of the two of them putting in a vegetable garden in the spring. Far enough away from the tree where Eliot’s tree house was, but close enough so that when his son was playing in there, he could look out over the garden.

A short time later, James waved as the big yellow school bus carrying his son drove slowly down the road to the next neighborhood.

James started up the Bronco and let it idle for a few minutes, looking at his house and thinking how grateful he was to have his healthy family, soon to include one more, in the Shenandoah Valley, the most beautiful place on earth, in the community he loved with all his being.

His good mood shattered halfway to the library. The Bronco started shaking and shuddering. James managed to get the vehicle to the side of the road before it shut off completely. “No!” James shouted into the sudden silence. “Haven’t I been good to you, Bronco? Premium gas the last two tanks means nothing to you?”

He tried the ignition. Silence. Mentally, he reviewed his options. He wouldn’t call Jane to come and get him. He didn’t want her out in twenty-five-degree weather in her condition, although he’d never admit that to her. Besides, what could she do? He needed a mechanic.

James thought about his bank account and groaned. Another expensive tow to Harrisonburg would put his balance dangerously low. Then he remembered the mobile mechanic Gillian had told him about. He pulled out his wallet and found the slip of paper with Ace’s name and phone number on it. Without any further thought, James punched the digits into his phone.

The phone rang and rang. Just as James was about to give up, a sleepy male voice said, “Yeah?”

“This is James Henry. My friend Gillian O’Malley at the Yuppie Puppy gave me this number. Is this Ace?”

“Yeah.”

Not exactly verbose, was he, James thought. “Gillian said you’re a mobile mechanic. I’m on the side of the road and can’t get my truck started.”

“Where ya at?”

James gave his location.

Ace said, “Cash only.”

“Well, if you get me on the road, you can follow me to the ATM.”

“Be right there.”

It was forty-five cold minutes later before a shivering James heard the rumble of a truck behind him. Looking in his side-view mirror, he saw a mostly faded red Chevy truck that had to be from the 1970s. The white trim on the bottom and on the roof showed large rust spots. A man opened the driver’s door.

James climbed outside. “Hello, you must be Ace,” he said in a friendly voice. “I’m James Henry.”

The skinniest man James had ever seen in his life slouched his way toward him. Tall, he wore a T-shirt and jeans without a jacket and nodded at James without speaking. James stared at the man’s mouth, puzzled. Ace’s jaw worked and James could hear a rapid sucking sound. A minute stretched out before James heard a cracking noise. Ace swallowed, then said, “Hey.”

James reached back into the Bronco and popped the hood. Leading the way to the front of the truck, he said, “Aren’t you cold, Ace?”

“Don’t feel the cold,” Ace said. He slumped over the Bronco’s engine, looking around and checking wires. Then he stood upright and rooted around in his pocket.

James saw a sunflower seed similar to the ones he and Eliot had put out for the birds before Ace popped it in his mouth and the sucking sound started again. James felt himself tense, waiting for the cracking sound. Seconds passed. Finally, Ace cracked the seed and swallowed. “Bad battery.”

“What? I had it replaced last year.”

“Lemme find my jumpers.”

James watched helplessly as Ace rummaged through the cargo bed of the Chevy. Trying to establish some sort of rapport with the young man, James said, “Gillian told me you had a dog named Bacon.”

“Yep.”

“Where’s she today?”

Ace shot him a look. “Too cold outside for a dog.”

“True. I’m freezing.”

Ace found the jumper cables. He got back in his Chevy and drove away.

James stood with his mouth open. Then he told himself to calm down. Ace had to turn the Chevy around on the two-lane road so it would be nose-to-nose with the Bronco.

Mrs. Kern drove up in her SUV. She was the mother of one of Eliot’s classmates and a patron at the library. “You okay, Mr. Henry?”

“Yes, thank you. A little trouble with my Bronco. I’ll be back on the road shortly.”

“All right. See you up at the library, then.” She rolled up her window and went on her way.

That’s when it hit James. The twins! Scott and Francis would have been waiting outside in this weather for him to open the library for at least half an hour! He was the only one who had a key. Quickly, he punched in Scott’s number on his cell phone.

“Professor! Are you all right? We’ve been trying to call you.”

“My phone didn’t ring. Scott, I’m sorry. The Bronco broke down, but I’m having it fixed right now. You and Francis go somewhere warm. I’ll be there soon.”

“Don’t worry about us. We put a sign on the library door saying we’d be open soon. Francis and I are across the street inside the gas station drinking their awful coffee.”

Guilt gripped him. “Please pass my apologies along to Francis. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

When he ended the call, James saw that Ace had the jumper cables in place. To his surprise, the Bronco started right away.

“You were right,” James told Ace as the young man removed the cables. “Follow me to the ATM. How much do I owe you?”

Ace got another seed out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, and appeared to think about his answer. Once again, James waited anxiously for the cracking sound. He wondered if those seeds were the only thing Ace ate.

After Ace swallowed, he said, “Fifty dollars. Iffen you want, I’ll git a new battery at the auto parts store. Put it in for no extra charge. You have to give me the money fer it first.”

“Sounds like a deal. Follow me.”

James kept the Bronco’s motor running as he waited in line at the drive-through ATM. Once he had cash in hand, he drove to the library. In the parking lot, he gave the money to Ace, who nodded and drove off, the Chevy backfiring once.

James hastened to the library’s front door, unlocked it, took Scott’s sign down, and hurried to turn up the heat.

Scott and Francis were right behind him. “Professor,” Francis said, “have you changed your mind now about getting new wheels?”

Scott deposited a box on the library counter. Then the three of them divested themselves of their outerwear.

James said, “No, but I’ll tell you something I have changed my mind about. I’m having an extra key made to the library. The two of you can decide who is going to carry it.”

“Yes!” the twins shrieked in unison and then high-fived one another.

“I feel like Frodo Baggins in Lord of the Rings,” Francis pronounced. “Only the key is my ring. I’ll rule all the libraries!”

“Wait a second, bro,” Scott said. “The professor said we decide who’s going to carry it. What will it be? A fight to the death like in The Hunger Games?”

James opened the box on the library counter as the twins swapped ideas. They decided on an elaborate Excel spreadsheet indicating times, days of possession, and days of visitation for the proposed key.

“They’re a little late, but here nonetheless,” James said to himself. Inside the box was a plastic bag filled with Valentine conversation hearts. James had made up the messages on the candies himself. He went back to the break room, grabbed a large, clear cookie jar shaped like a thick book and poured the candy inside. He admired the job the company had done and read as the pastel-colored sweets poured into the jar. “Keep Reading. I Love My Library. Loves Books. Read Read Read. I Heart Books.”

Proudly, James put the jar on the library counter and went about library business trying not to think about telling Jane about the latest trouble with the Bronco. Every once in a while, he peeked outside to see if Ace had returned and was installing the new battery. When he finally saw him, James breathed a sigh of relief.

After the young man left—James gave him a ten-dollar tip—James turned his mind to the problem of gathering the supper club members together. He needed to fill them in on everything that had happened in the murder case. In the end, he decided that he’d have to ask everyone to join him at the Hearth and Home event. There would be plenty of food available. They could have dinner there and discuss the case while observing the actors.

James left the twins munching on conversation hearts and discussing whether they should purchase a small treasure chest to house the key at home. He stepped back to the break room to call Gillian.

“What time does it start?” she asked.

“I looked it up online last night. It’s from three until eight at the Cardinal’s Rest Harvest Church fellowship hall. That’s that nondenominational church outside of town.”

“I went to a spiritual retreat there once. So enlightening. That hall is huge. Let’s see, Lucy is working the events, so she’ll already be there. Bennett tries to finish his route early on Fridays. He should be done around three. Although the kids leave earlier, Lindy stays at the school until five, but she might be able to leave early. I’ll call her. Buddha knows I have no business at the Yuppie Puppy.”

“Too cold for dogs to be out,” James said, unconsciously parroting Ace’s words.

“I make sure all the dogs I groom are dried thoroughly, but lots of folks don’t want to drive their pups anywhere in below-freezing temperatures. Plus, we’re supposed to get that big snowstorm any minute.”

James scoffed. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. It ain’t over until the hound howls.”

“What are you talking about, James?”

“Pop’s neighbor has a hound that always predicts when it’s going to snow.”

Gillian laughed. “Probably more accurate than that Jim Topling meteorologist. I’ll call you back.”