Chapter Eighteen
The snow came with a vengeance, close to six inches with ice. Power was knocked out for part of Sunday. Everyone at Joshua’s house slept late, doing very little except reading or napping. Max had attached the snowplow to his old truck and plowed out the driveway, but more snow came in the night. Power was restored by Monday and Max left earlier than usual that morning to plow the parking lot.
Joshua went with his father, shoveling snow off the walkways. He was sprinkling rock salt at the front doors when the employees started to arrive, one by one. Anna showed up by five-thirty, making coffee in the break room.
“This has to be the worst storm we’ve had—“
“Since last winter.”
They all laughed, cold fingers wrapped around warm cups of coffee.
“Where’s Bonnie?” John asked.
“She’s probably just driving slow,” Anna said. “The roads are icy.”
“She doesn’t own a cell phone.”
“I’ll call her at home. If she doesn’t answer, she’s on her way.”
All employees were at their work stations by six. The upstairs crew, including Joshua, continued to wait for Bonnie. Anna called Bonnie’s house, but no answer.
“Hopefully, she’s not stuck in a ditch,” Max said. “I’d better go out to her place. Anna, tell Joshua I want him to come with me. I might need help moving Bonnie’s truck.”
Joshua soon joined his father in the warm SUV. “I hope she’s okay.”
“We might have to call a tow.”
Max drove with care in the pre-dawn darkness. He turned on to the dirt road leading to the church. Joshua saw the building covered in snow and he shivered. He understood what Anna had meant about a lonely black hole.
Max drove for another two miles, having passed the remains of his old house. Joshua had looked away, closing his eyes. The blasting heat was making him sleepy.
Bonnie lived in a 1960s style split level house, the property once boasting orchards that grew berries, peaches, and apples. The driveway had not been plowed. No lights were on.
Max had kept an eye out for Bonnie’s truck during the whole drive, but she must have never left the house. Joshua followed him to the attached garage. Max looked through a window, the truck inside.
“Maybe she’s still in bed,” Joshua said.
“Let’s go knock on her door.”
Max and Joshua stood at the front porch. Max knocked a few times then went to the sliding glass doors to the back, walking through a foot of snow in the yard and on the deck.
“She never came out to shovel yesterday,” Max said.
“I have a bad feeling, Dad.”
“So do I.”
Max looked through the glass, but saw nothing unusual, just the dining area and kitchen. He pushed at the door handle and the door slid open. Max stepped in, Joshua behind him.
“Bonnie? You all right?”
They turned into the kitchen, finding her on the floor by the oven. She was in her flannel nightgown, the hem gathered at the waist. Her pale legs, etched with spider veins, were splayed out. The nightgown was soaked red around her neck. Max came closer; Bonnie’s eyes were open, hands covered in dried blood.
“Dad, Ruth was here!”
Max stepped away, hearing Joshua’s voice in the living room.
Joshua was pointing at Ruth’s suitcase on the floor. “She was here all along.”
“Look at the carpet.”
A trail of blood led out of the dining area and living room. Joshua followed the drips to the garage, across the cement floor, to the door where Joshua and Max had been standing.
“The snow would have covered more blood,” Max said. “I’m calling the police.”
Joshua nodded, but kept walking. He opened the door from the inside. He could imagine Ruth trying to run away into the woods.
He trudged through the field that led to a thick wooded area. Joshua could feel his face becoming numb, his head and ears covered with a knitted cap. Thick gloves covered his hands.
He saw no blood or footprints in the hard packed snow. The police would have little to go on. Joshua entered the woods.
The snow had landed at the top of the trees, so the drifts carpeting the ground were thinner. Joshua saw boot prints. He kept following, walking for what seemed like a mile in the frigid cold, when he came upon what looked like an old metal cart, almost buried. The white glare of the snow was making his eyes hurt as he stayed on the boot-print trail, which seemed to stop at the cart.
Joshua, at first, thought he was looking at something used for work. There were baby food jars full of nails, a hammer close by. An old flannel shirt had been used as wrapping for something, placed next to the jars.
He knew he shouldn’t touch anything, but he was wearing gloves. He brushed some of the snow off the flannel then pulled at a tucked end, then another. His fingers brushed against something hard and smooth. He saw a knuckle, a fingernail.
Joshua turned and ran, not noticing the large red stain under his feet.
Joshua did not tell the police about what he found. He, along with Max, answered their questions. Bonnie’s body was taken away.
Max decided to go home before returning to the plant. Brenda had a dentist appointment and Colbie had a snow day from school.
Max explained to Colbie about Bonnie. “Did you know Ruth was staying with her?”
“I haven’t spoken to Grandma since Lois died. She knows how to take care of herself, but I’m really worried this time.”
Her concern surprised Joshua, but he didn’t want to argue. The image of Bonnie on her kitchen floor wouldn’t leave his head. He needed to relax, he felt a headache coming on.
“Josh, you stay here,” his father said. “I can deal with the shit storm at the plant.”
“I think I’ll try to take a nap.”
The Witch Box Page 20
