The Deep, Deep Snow

by Brian Freeman

  “Shelby, we haven’t told Anna about the cancer. Not yet.”

  “I understand.”

  “I just didn’t want you to say anything to her.”

  “Of course. I won’t say a word. But she’s a smart kid, Trina. She already knows something’s wrong.”

  “I know. I’d planned to tell her this weekend, but then, with Jeremiah—”

  “Yeah. There’s never a good time.”

  “No, there’s not.” Trina took both of my hands. “Listen, I have to ask you something. A favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Hear me out before you say that. Look, I’m going to do whatever I need to do to beat this again. You know me, I’ll fight with every breath I have. But I’m a practical woman. I’m a coach, and being a coach means being prepared for every eventuality, including losing the game.”

  “Trina—”

  “No, wait. Listen to me. You know I don’t get sad about things. Life is what it is. I had to deal with all of this the last time it happened. I’m not afraid for myself, but I am afraid for Anna. You know how hard it is not having a mom. I worry about her going down the wrong path because I’m not there. So if the worst does happen, I’d like you to be there for her. I need to know she has someone. Not just her father; she needs another woman in her life.”

  “You know I will. You don’t even have to ask.”

  She squeezed my hands tightly. “Think hard about this, Shelby. I’m not saying be her friend. You’re already her friend. This is a very different kind of responsibility. And I know you’re likely to have your hands full with Tom.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Don’t worry about anything except your fight. Focus on what you need to focus on. I’ll always be there for Anna. There’s never a question about that.”

  If I didn’t know Trina as well as I did, I would have sworn that I saw tears in her eyes. She didn’t say anything more. With a cracked smile of gratitude, she waved me toward Jeremiah’s small bedroom. I walked down there, but Trina stayed in the hallway behind me. I understood that she couldn’t go inside. I tapped the door gently with my knuckles to alert Anna that I was coming in.

  It was a boy’s room, painted midnight blue with posters of dinosaurs taped on the walls. The floor was messy with metal race cars and rainbow-colored Legos scattered around like land mines for bare feet. Jeremiah had dirty underwear and socks piled in the corner, and they had the slightly rancid smell of a boy who didn’t shower as often as he should. I saw an open can of yellow Wilson shuttlecocks tipped over on his dresser. It was easy to imagine Jeremiah in the campground, whacking one of those shuttlecocks with his badminton racket and chasing after it.

  His bed was unmade. He had Jurassic Park sheets twisted into knots. Anna sat on the bed with her legs crossed. She had a pile of rocks in a plastic ice cream bucket in front of her that she was building into a column on top of a hardcover copy of a Rick Riordan book. The rocks were a shiny mixture of flat beach stones, all smooth as if they’d been polished and rounded by water.

  I pulled a plastic chair over toward the bed and sat down in it. Anna didn’t look at me. She kept stacking rocks with a quiet intensity, choosing them carefully so they went one on top of the other. The tower in front of her was almost a foot tall. She had a look about her that said nothing in the world was more important than what she was doing at that moment.

  “Hey, Anna,” I said softly.

  “Hey, Shelby.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is a Karen.”

  “A what?”

  “A Karen. Last fall we went on a field trip. The teacher showed us how the Indians made Karens in honor of their ancestors by stacking stones together. Jeremiah and I thought it was cool.”

  I smiled. “Oh, a cairn. Okay. So why are you making a cairn?”

  The girl picked up each stone as if it were sacred. “They’re for dead people.”

  “Are you talking about Jeremiah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anna, we don’t know that Jeremiah is dead. You shouldn’t think that. We all hope he’s fine and will be back home really soon.”

  Anna placed another rock, and she was careful and precise about it. When she was done, she shook her head. “No, he’s dead.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “He told me.”

  I glanced at the open door to the bedroom. I wanted to make sure no one else in the house had come upstairs to hear any of this. “Jeremiah told you he was dead? How did he do that?”

  “He came to visit me when I was sleeping last night. He was all wet, like he’d been in the rain. He told me that he was dead but that it was okay and I shouldn’t feel bad. But I do. So I told him I would make a Karen for him.”

  “Anna, that was just a dream.”

  “No, Shelby. I saw him. He’s dead.”

  She lifted one more stone out of the ice cream bucket and put it on top of the others, but her hand began to shake. This time, the tower of stones fell down over the book and onto the sheets. Anna frowned, and her lower lip trembled, but she didn’t cry. She picked up all of the rocks and put them back in the bucket, and then she chose two stones and started over.

  “In your dream, did Jeremiah tell you what happened to him?”

  “No. He didn’t talk about that.”

  “Do you have any idea where he was?”

  “In the woods.”

  “Did you recognize the woods? Was it the national forest?”

  Anna shook her head. “I don’t know. It was just somewhere in the woods.”

  “Did you see anyone else? Was anyone with him?”

  “No. He was alone, because he was dead. But there was a cross.”

  “What?”

  “A cross. He was standing next to a birch tree, and somebody had carved a big cross in the trunk of the tree, like with a knife or something.”

  You may think I was crazy to ask her about these things, but there were worse places to look for answers than inside a child’s dream. Sometimes that’s how they share secrets when the real world is too scary for them. And I’ve always believed that dreams can carry clues, too. No matter what had happened between them, Anna and Jeremiah had been best friends. If he was going to find a way to send a message through anyone, it was her.

  “Thank you for telling me about this, Anna, but how about we keep your dream between us. Okay? Can you do that? I think it would upset people to hear you talking about Jeremiah being dead.”

  “I understand.”

  “But it’s good that you told me. That’s the right thing to do. Remember what I said in the cemetery on Friday? You can tell me anything. It doesn’t matter what it is. I’ll always protect you no matter what.”

  Anna put down the stone she was holding. She stared into the bucket of rocks, and then she finally looked up. Our eyes met. “No, Shelby. You can’t protect me. He’s going to get me.”

  “What are you talking about? Who’s going to get you?”

  “The Ursulina.”

  I reached out and stroked her hair. “Oh, honey. Oh, is that what you think? Anna, the Ursulina isn’t real. It’s just a story. You shouldn’t believe it, and you shouldn’t be scared of it.”

  “No, you’re wrong. It’s real. It came after Jeremiah, and it got him. And now it’s going to come after me next.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  The girl rubbed one of the stones from the cairn between her fingers, but she didn’t answer me.

  “Anna?”

  “I can’t say anything about that. It’s a secret.”

  “A secret? What kind of secret? Anna, I really need you to tell me.”

  “No, I can’t. We swore we wouldn’t say anything.”

  My heart started beating a little faster. “Was this a secret between you and Jeremia
h?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does this secret have anything to do with why you and Jeremiah aren’t friends anymore?”

  She bowed her head and nodded.

  “Anna, what happened? Please tell me.”

  But the girl shook her head vigorously and pressed her lips shut.

  “Well, can you tell me when this happened?”

  “It was months ago. I don’t know when. The leaves were all over the ground.”

  The leaves were falling.

  Autumn.

  I remembered Jeannie Samper telling me that her son Matthew babysat Jeremiah one night the previous fall. And that Matthew had found Jeremiah sitting out on the deck below his bedroom, terrified by something he’d seen.

  “Anna, I heard that Jeremiah sneaked out of his room one night last fall. Do you know anything about that?”

  Her eyes got wide with surprise, and I knew I was right. We were talking about the same night.

  “Where did he go?”

  “The woods,” she said after a long pause. “He went into the woods behind his house.”

  “Did you go with him?”

  “No! No! I didn’t do anything, I swear, I didn’t do anything!”

  “It’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. What was Jeremiah doing? Why did he sneak out?”

  Her eyes went to the window and then the open closet door, as if to reassure herself there were no monsters to be found.

  “To hunt for the Ursulina,” she told me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Remember last Halloween? You sang about it. And the man with no leg told that story.”

  I closed my eyes and felt terrible, because I couldn’t help thinking that this was partly my fault. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Jeremiah said if we found the Ursulina, we’d be famous. But I told him it was too dangerous. He said he didn’t care, he was going to find it all by himself.”

  “And that’s what he did?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he didn’t tell anyone about it?”

  “Just me.”

  “Okay. Anna, what happened that night? Why was Jeremiah so scared when he got home?”

  Anna grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest like a stuffed animal. “He was out there, and he saw—he saw—”

  I spoke softly. “What did he see, Anna?”

  “He saw it. He saw the Ursulina.”

  A little sigh came out with my breath. “Anna, whatever Jeremiah saw, it wasn’t the Ursulina. Believe me. The Ursulina is a myth. It’s not real. The stories we told on Halloween, those were just funny things we made up.”

  “No, Shelby. Jeremiah saw the Ursulina.”

  “How do you know?”

  Anna didn’t answer. Now she was crying.

  “Anna? It’s okay. Tell me. Why are you so sure Jeremiah saw the Ursulina?”

  The girl reached out and grabbed my hand. She whispered to me. “Because he saw it kill somebody.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I went downstairs and found Ellen and Dennis Sloan, who were still with Agent Reed. Jeremiah’s parents were shooting silent, hostile stares across the room at each other, as if they were prize fighters on opposite sides of the ring. Since Friday, the stress of losing their son had already begun to split them apart.

  I knew I was about to make it worse.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Anna Helvik told me something about Jeremiah that may be important.”

  Ellen studied me with cool surprise. “Anna did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anna and Jeremiah haven’t talked in months.”

  “I know.”

  Ellen looked at Agent Reed, as if inquiring whether he was going to allow me to get in the middle of this. As far as Ellen was concerned, I was just a young deputy who’d gotten a job because my father was the sheriff. But Agent Reed gave me the slightest nod, which was the signal to continue.

  “Did the two of you know that Jeremiah sneaked out of his bedroom one night last fall?” I asked.

  Ellen shook her head to dismiss the idea immediately. “Jeremiah? That’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t do that.”

  But Dennis’s reaction on the other side of the room was different. He swallowed hard and looked away from his wife. Ellen noticed the uncomfortable expression on his face.

  “Dennis?” she said sharply.

  “I did know that,” he admitted.

  “You did? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  “I talked to Jer. He said he wouldn’t do it again. I figured we didn’t need to make a big thing of it.”

  “Well, why did he sneak out? What was he doing?”

  “It was stupid. It’s the kind of thing boys do. He told me he was hunting for the Ursulina. He and Anna were obsessed with it back then, remember?”

  “You should have told me,” Ellen snapped. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  But I knew that wasn’t the real reason, and the real reason had to come out, regardless of the consequences for Dennis and Ellen.

  “Mr. Sloan, how did you find out about this?” I asked.

  Dennis’s flushed face got redder. I could see him thinking: Does she know?

  “I caught Jer climbing back inside,” he replied. He quickly added with exasperation in his voice, “I don’t understand why you’re asking about this. It was last year. As far as I know, Jeremiah didn’t do it again. Believe me, I checked his room every night to be sure. How is any of this going to help you find my son?”

  I realized that Agent Reed was right. People lie. They lie about everything. They lie to protect themselves. They lie even when their child’s life hangs in the balance.

  “Mr. Sloan, I talked to Jeannie Samper. She told me what happened.”

  Ellen looked at me with angry frustration, but I think she already suspected that I was opening a door that would be better left closed. “Jeannie Samper? From the raptor center? What does she have to do with any of this? Agent Reed, I think we’ve had just about enough of this nonsense.”

  But Reed could see the stricken look in Dennis Sloan’s eyes. “Mr. Sloan? I think it would be better for all of us if you simply answered Deputy Lake’s questions.”

  Dennis’s face was a mixture of shame and rage. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “Did you ask Jeannie Samper if her son Matthew could babysit for you that night?”

  “Yes.” His voice was like the crack of a bullet.

  “Matthew Samper?” Ellen interrupted. “When was this? Where was I?”

  I held up my hands. “Mrs. Sloan, let’s just try to get through this, okay? Mr. Sloan, you asked Matthew if he could stay here all night, isn’t that right?”

  Dennis spat the word at me again. “Yes.”

  “So you weren’t actually home when Jeremiah sneaked out?”

  “No.”

  The realization dawned on Ellen’s face, which turned gray as charcoal and just as hot. It’s one thing to hear rumors about infidelity. It’s another to have the truth thrown at you while your child is missing. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, and then she finally spoke.

  “New Orleans, right?” she asked calmly with a cold glance at her husband. “I took Adrian with me on that trip. Is that when it was?”

  Dennis hung his head. “Yes.”

  “Who was it? Breezy? It’s always her. You’re always running back to her. How long has it been going on, Dennis? How many years?”

  “Ellen, do we have to do this now?” Dennis pleaded. “What does it matter who it was? Yes, I was out all night. Yes, I wasn’t alone. It has nothing to do with Jeremiah.”

  “Mr. Sloan, I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but we really do need to verify your whereabouts that night.
”

  “Why on earth does that matter?”

  I didn’t tell him anything more. I waited without explaining. I could see Agent Reed getting impatient with Dennis, too.

  “Mr. Sloan, tell us where you were,” he barked. “Answer the question.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I don’t know what difference any of this makes. Yes, I was with Belinda Brees.”

  “In Witch Tree?” I asked.

  “No. We went to a hotel in Martin’s Point. We spent the night.”

  Ellen shot to her feet. I knew she wanted to storm away, but she didn’t. She needed to hear the rest. She needed to know why this was coming up now.

  “When did you get home?” I asked Dennis.

  “About ten the next morning. It was Sunday.”

  “What did Matthew Samper tell you?”

  “He said he checked Jeremiah’s room about one in the morning, and Jeremiah was gone. He searched the house and found him on our back porch. My son told him he was just out looking at the stars, but Matthew said he didn’t think that was true. So I talked to Jeremiah about it. Eventually, he admitted he’d gone out on this crazy expedition to find the Ursulina. I told him he could have gotten hurt and that he was never to do anything like that again. He swore to me he was done. As far as I know, that was that.”

  “Was Jeremiah frightened when you talked to him?”

  “Of course he was. Scared to death.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “He’s a little boy. He felt guilty that I’d found him out.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, that’s all.”

  “When was this?”

  “Last fall. November.”

  “What date?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Mrs. Sloan?” I asked quietly. “Do you remember?”

  I could tell that Ellen had already guessed the truth, because she put her hand over her lips with a kind of frozen horror. “My conference was the weekend of the fourteenth.” Then she went on, as if we could read each other’s minds. “Is that possible, Shelby? Do you really think—?”

  “Yes, I do,” I replied. “It was November fourteenth. That was the night Colleen Whalen was shot and killed. I think Jeremiah was there. I think he saw it happen.”