Chapter Twenty
Vanessa waited nervously by the foot of the bed while Joe checked the man on the floor. The man lay on his side. His breathing was shallow and a puddle of vomit was pooled by his head.
Joe checked the man's pulse. It was good, but Joe still thought the man could use medical attention. He might have a concussion. Those could be serious. Besides, Joe wanted both men out of the cabin and the sooner, the better.
He looked over at Vanessa. Tension rippled along her shoulders. She hugged herself hard as if she were freezing. An anxious frown furrowed her brow. No doubt about it, Joe needed to get the men out of the cabin. Vanessa would not rest until they were gone.
Joe went to the closet, grabbed his parka off the floor, and tugged it on. "I'm going out to the police cruiser," he said. "Maybe I can contact the police station on the cruiser's radio."
"I'm coming with you." Vanessa wasn't about to be left in the cabin with the men.
"It's freezing out …" Joe stopped himself. The panic in Vanessa's eyes said, Don't argue. She was still terrified. Still unnerved by the night's events.
Perfectly understandable, Joe thought.
"Uh, sure," he said. "Your cousin's married to the police chief, right? What's his name?"
"Ron."
Vanessa turned and exited the bedroom. She headed straight for the front door. Her boots and parka were there. Joe followed close behind, Sean's Glock still tucked in his waistband.
Vanessa pulled on her boots and laced them. Joe had told her the other man was in the dining room tied to a chair. Vanessa didn't glance that way. She didn't want to see the other man. He had been the more vicious of the two.
While Vanessa zipped and buttoned her parka Joe went to the window overlooking the porch. He brushed the curtains aside and peered out. What he saw made his heart jump.
Headlights!
Big headlights. Attached to a huge vehicle. Snow flew from the side of the vehicle in a graceful arc.
A snowplow!
Joe couldn't believe his eyes. He shook his head, blinked, and looked again. Sure enough. It was a snowplow and behind it came another vehicle.
"Someone's here," Joe called to Vanessa.
"What?" She rushed to the window and peered out. "A .. a snowplow?"
Joe was focused on the second vehicle. "I think that's a police cruiser behind it."
"Ron," Vanessa's voice was filled with hope and excitement. She started for the door.
Joe stopped her with a hand on her arm. A dead man lay outside the door. Joe didn't want Vanessa to see the body.
"Hang on a sec. Not so fast," he cautioned.
"I … I," Vanessa sputtered. What was up with Joe? Help was here. Right outside. Why wasn't he rushing to the door?
"Let me go first," he said, a note of dread had crept into his voice.
Vanessa studied his face for a moment. "Okay, but I'm right behind you."
Joe realized there was no way to avoid the situation and said, "There's a dead officer outside the door."
Tears pricked the corners of Vanessa's eyes, but she kept her composure. "I know. I saw them shoot him. I .. I thought it was you." Vanessa inhaled sharply, clearly upset by the memory. "I ran outside after they shot him. It .. it was horrible."
Joe reached for Vanessa and hugged her to him fiercely. Their thick, puffy parkas made the hug difficult. Joe had to really stretch his arms.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he whispered into her hair.
"It's okay." Vanessa exhaled against his parka. It wasn't okay. Not by any standard. She blinked away threatening tears. Okay was what you said when words failed, when no words fit the situation or emotions.
Vanessa pushed back and her watery, pale blue eyes lifted to Joe. "We need to get outside. If that's Ron …"
Joe released his hold on her. "Yeah, it's going to be tough for him. One of his men …" Joe couldn't finish. His throat was suddenly tight. Flashbacks of Afghanistan crowded his mind. Losing a friend was never easy. He knew because he had lost one in Afghanistan due to an IED (improvised explosive device).
Vanessa went to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and peered out. The bright beams of the snowplow lit the porch. The harsh light caused Vanessa to avert her gaze. A glimpse of the officer's body slid into view as she did. Her heart pounded and then settled into a gut wrenching ache. Some family was going to receive devastating news tonight, ten days before Christmas. Sometimes, life just wasn't fair.
She let the curtain drop into place and turned to Joe. "An officer's getting out of the car. I don't think it's Ron."
"Stay behind me," Joe said.
He had his game face on and his emotions in lockdown. He took Vanessa by the hand and they moved to the door. He nudged her behind him before putting a hand on the door handle.
"Ready?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Ready." She laid a hand on his waist. She needed the physical contact and the reassuring comfort of him close to her.
# # # #
Officer Scott approached the cabin with extreme caution. His service revolver was drawn and ready. Oh, he'd already spotted what appeared to be a body on the porch. The sight made his stomach churn and his skin crawl. Definitely, not what Scott had wanted to find or, see, tonight.
Damn, damn, damn. Damn and a whole lotta other cuss words.
Scott shouted at Ernie and Pete, "Stay in the snowplow. Neither of you gets out. Understood?"
"Understood," Ernie and Pete chorused.
"Keep the lights blazing. Looks like we got a body on the porch," Scott said.
Scott heard Pete's low curse.
"Hey, Ernie," Scott added, "you still got that police radio?"
The department had given Ernie a radio a few years ago after a similar storm had wreaked havoc on the small community of Pine Crest. Chief Ron had determined that communications between rescuers, early responders, and the police were the key to coordinating rescue efforts and keeping citizens safe.
"You bet," Ernie shouted back. "Works just fine."
"Call Ron," Scott yelled. "Tell him we got a situation up here. We need backup."
"You got it." Ernie gave a mock salute.
Scott didn't see the salute. He was focused on the door of the cabin. It was opening.
# # # #
Joe stepped onto the porch with his hands up. Vanessa was right behind him, her hands on his waist. She peeked around Joe and gaped at the officer.
"Stay right where you are," Scott called out. "Keep your hands where I can see them. Both of you."
"No problem." Joe lifted his hands higher and his gaze shifted to the men in the snowplow. One was on a radio.
Vanessa stepped forward, her hands chest high. She was nervous and trembling. She felt an overwhelming need for the officer to understand. To know who she was and what had happened to her tonight. She was the victim here. She couldn't bear the thought that the officer might think her dangerous. Dangerous was reserved for the two men tied up inside the cabin.
"I'm Vanessa Bender," she shouted. She tried to keep her voice steady and loud. "My cousin, Daphne, is married to Police Chief Ron Preston. You can call him. I'm sure he'd like to know I'm okay. I was supposed to call Daphne this afternoon, but .. but I couldn't." She wanted to tell the whole story, but sensed she was beginning to ramble and figured it was best to wait. Best to let the officer ask the questions.
"You're Miss Bender?"
It might have been Vanessa's imagination, but she thought the officer relaxed a little. His gun didn't waver, but his shoulders came down a bit and there was less tension in his posture.
"Yes, sir. And this is my boyfriend, Joe Hardy." Vanessa laid a hand on the sleeve of Joe's parka.
Scott scanned the big circular driveway. He glanced at Henry's police cruiser and at Vanessa's rental car. Scott's gaze then zeroed in on Joe. "Where's your vehicle, Mr. Hardy?"
"Bout a mile down the road, officer," Joe said. "The road was slick when I came up. I had to pull over and walk the rest of the way. Actually, it's my father's vehicle."
"And what's his name?" Scott squinted at Joe.
Ernie and Pete had found the abandoned SUV twenty minutes ago. Scott had immediately radioed Ron and told him of the find. It hadn't taken Ron long to discover who the SUV was registered to and radio that information to Scott.
"Fenton Hardy," Joe said.
Scott lowered his revolver and called up to Ernie in the snowplow. "You got Ron on the radio?"
"Sure do."
"Tell him we found Joseph Hardy and the missing cousin." Under his breath, Scott muttered, "And that's the good news." Then Scott added, "Got an ETA on that backup for me, Ernie?"
"Thirty or forty minutes," Ernie called down.
"We need an ambulance," Joe shouted from the porch. "One man inside is hurt. Might have a concussion."
Scott looked up at Ernie. "You hear that?"
"Yep. One ambulance needed." Ernie put a hand over the radio mic, leaned his head out the window, and spoke quietly to Scott. "Any word on Henry? Ron was asking."
Sadness welled up inside of Scott in a violent rush. He shook his head slowly and then stared at the porch. The body was still there. Unmoving.
"Nothing to report yet," Scott said, his voice strained. "Tell Ron I'm still working the crime scene. I'll radio as soon as I know Henry's whereabouts."
"Roger that." Ernie's bushy eyebrows rose as he turned his head and looked at Pete.
Pete gave half a shrug and shook his head sadly.
Scott knew Ernie and Pete could see the body on the porch. Up in the snowplow's cab they had a perfect view. Scott figured that like him, they were probably hoping – against hope – that it wasn't Henry. But the Smokey the Bear hat left little doubt as to who it was. Only real question was, was he dead?
Scott holstered his service revolver and approached the porch. He didn't know what he was walking into. As a precaution, one hand stayed on the butt of the revolver.