Chapter Seven
Henry DuPont settled Miss Marge Sutton in her easy chair in front of the TV.
"Shoulda been here the whole day," he muttered half to Miss Sutton and half to himself. She shouldn't a been out trying to shop on one of the worse weather day's Pine Crest had seen in years.
Old people, Henry thought.
"Anyone ever tell you you're handsome?" Miss Sutton cooed.
Henry cringed and his spine stiffened. He wondered if she'd been drinking. It would explain her rash decision to drive. But then, at her age she shouldn't be driving at all.
Henry let out a heavy sigh. "Here, let's get this nice, warm blanket over your legs."
"You're a true gentleman, Henry. Strange you never married." Marge screwed up her face and stared at Henry as if waiting for an answer.
Henry had lived all thirty-two years of his life in Pine Crest. He'd known Marge Sutton for half of those years. She was a retired high school teacher who'd served on countless town committees since and at that moment he had no response to her comment. It was an awkward moment to say the least. His radio saved him.
"Henry? Chief Ron here, what's your status?"
Henry thumbed his lapel mike. "Miss Sutton is home and safely tucked into her favorite easy chair."
"Good. Very good, Henry. Give Miss Sutton mine, and the department's, best regards and then report to Bear Mountain Road. We've got a possible missing person."
"Roger that. Saying good-bye to Miss Sutton now."
Henry turned to Marge Sutton. "Got another call, ma'am." He wished Miss Sutton a good night, extended the police department's well wishes for a Happy Holiday, and scooped his hat off the stained and messy coffee table.
When he was finally outside, Henry stood a minute on Miss Sutton's porch. He was glad to be out of the cluttered home, but hated the chilly air whipping round his neck and ears. He settled his Smokey the Bear hat on his head and zipped up his Carhartt jacket. The wind tore at the collar and he wished he'd had the foresight to bring his earmuffs on patrol tonight.
He made his way to his patrol car, boots crunching in the snow. Gawd, he hated winter. Technically, there was another week before winter officially started. Guess someone forgot to tell the weather.
He got in his patrol car and grabbed his gloves off the dashboard. They were ice cold. Should've taken them inside when he'd helped Marge Sutton in, but he'd had his hands full then. Quite full. Marge wasn't exactly a lightweight.
He started the engine, cranked up the heat, and keyed the car's radio. "Ron? Henry here. I'm on my way to Bear Mountain Road. ETA ten minutes."
"Thanks, Henry. The missing person is Daphne's cousin, Vanessa Bender. She's approximately twenty-seven, has long blonde hair, and blue eyes. She's supposed to be at Alice Draper's cabin. She was scheduled to arrive around two or three this afternoon. Said she'd call Daphne when she got to the cabin. Daphne hasn't heard from her and is worried. Given the weather, I'm thinking the phone lines might be down. And since there's no cell service at the top of the mountain we have no way of knowing if Vanessa made it up there or not."
"Leave it to me, Chief. I've got chains on my vehicle. Those'll probably get me to the cabin. I'll report in when I'm there."
"Thanks, Henry. Be extra careful on that road, ya hear? Don't need any more accidents tonight. Over and out."
Henry planned on being extra careful. He knew that mountain road well and the hazards it presented.
# # # #
They sat at the big, oak table with mugs of coffee. The three of them. The brothers drank their coffee leisurely while they chatted. Vanessa had barely touched her coffee. She'd offered Christmas cookies she'd bought at the store. The brothers had declined the cookies and now casually discussed the merits of homemade foods versus store bought foods.
They talked in that weird way of theirs, unemotional and distant. Almost robotic. Their speech and manner unnerved Vanessa. Internally, she was terrified, shocked, and panicky. She had come to realize that the English language lacked a word to adequately describe the emotion of utter and complete hopelessness.
One thought took center stage in her mind; would she, by some miracle, survive the night? She had serious doubts. Things were peaceful now, but she harbored no illusions they would stay that way.
The men had guns. She had seen them when the men removed their coats and hung them on the coatrack. Revolvers were stuck in the waistbands of their jeans. One brother had retrieved two rifles and a box of ammunition from the front porch. The rifles and bullets now sat on the coffee table in the living room alongside the candies.
Candies and rifles. Two things that did not belong together.
Vanessa's thoughts turned to her cousin. Would Daphne be worried when Vanessa didn't call? Would Daphne, or Ron, drive up to the cabin? Could they drive to the cabin? Were the roads too slick now?
Ron was a police chief. He had the power to make things happen. Maybe he would send a snowplow or a patrol car. Would any of that help her? She had no idea how the brothers would react if someone knocked on the door.
And what about Joe? Would he be able to make it up the mountain? If he did, what would the brothers do? Would they shoot him? Why else did they have guns?
Anguish twisted Vanessa's gut. On the one hand, she wanted someone to come to her rescue. However, on the other hand she dreaded the very thought of her rescuer winding up as a victim of the brothers.
Ethan's voice broke into Vanessa's thoughts. "How much longer until dinner is ready?"
Vanessa lifted her head, took a sip of cold coffee, and eyed the clock on the wall. "An hour. Maybe less." She hated that her voice trembled.
What did these men really want? Was their motive robbery? There was little of value in the cabin. A TV and some iron sculptures. None worth more than a few hundred dollars. Vanessa had some cash in her purse – around three hundred dollars – and a credit card. Was any of that worth killing for?
A shiver trickled down Vanessa's spine. People had been killed for a lot less.
Vanessa pushed her mug aside and looked at the brothers. "I need to check the stew."
The brothers exchanged glances. The blond one, Sean, nodded at Vanessa and said, "You may. The food smells delicious. My brother and I grow hungrier by the minute."
If he meant his statement as a compliment it failed to impress Vanessa or relieve her stress. She rose and headed to the oven. Joe was supposed to arrive when the stew was ready. One hour from now. Vanessa's hands shook as she shoved them into oven mitts.
What would happen when Joe arrived? If, Joe arrived, she reminded herself. If …
The roads …
The weather …
# # # #
Henry pulled his patrol car alongside the black truck. Now, who would leave a nice truck parked here, at the entrance to the driveway of Alice Draper's cabin? Henry noted that the truck could not be seen from the cabin. The driveway was long and midway up it hooked a mean right.
Henry put his car in park and climbed out. An arctic blast tugged at his hat. The hat's drawstring kept it from flying off his head. Henry walked the few steps to the truck. An inch of snow had settled on the hood and roof. Henry peered through the windows. The back windows were heavily tinted and crusted with snow crystals. He couldn't see a darn thing in the back of the truck.
He moved to the driver's window and wiped it with the sleeve of his jacket. He unclipped the mag-lite on his belt and shone it through the window. Nothing of interest jumped out. The interior was neat and clean, kind of like a rental vehicle. No coats, hats, or gloves. No personal items as far as Henry could tell. He wondered if this was Vanessa's vehicle. But why leave it here just a few yards from the cabin?
Had she had an accident? Had the vehicle stopped working?
Henry thumbed the mag-lite to bright and ran the beam over the truck. No flat tires. No scrapes or dents. He played the beam along the snow covered road. He saw his own footprints, but no skid marks. Of course, if there'd been any, they were long gone now, buried beneath the rapidly falling snow.
Henry rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand. Looked like someone had just pulled the truck over and parked it here. Seemed an odd thing to do. Why leave a perfectly good vehicle by the side of the road? And where the heck was the occupant or occupants? Could be more than one person.
Alice Draper's cabin seemed the logical place. Henry switched off his mag-lite and squinted at Alice's driveway. The driving wind and falling snow made it difficult to see far.
Henry pondered the situation. The driveway was steep and it had that tricky curve. He gave half a shrug. Maybe Vanessa thought she couldn't negotiate the driveway in the current weather conditions. Maybe she'd decided to hoof it the rest of the way.
Henry reclipped the mag-lite on his belt and climbed into his patrol car. The answers to his questions lay a few yards away … at Alice Draper's cabin.
