The Deep, Deep Snow

by Brian Freeman

  “What time did you leave the trailer?”

  “I don’t know. Sometime between two and three, I guess. I didn’t check my watch.”

  “And you drove straight home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did Breezy wake up when you left?”

  “No, she was dead to the world.” He frowned. “Sorry, bad choice of words. But she was tired. She was barely awake even while we were having sex. She’d pulled double shifts at the diner two days in a row. I knew she had to get up early again, so I let her sleep. I just slipped out.”

  “What about when you left? Did you hear music then?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.”

  “Did you see anyone else?”

  “What? I forgot about the raccoon.”

  “The raccoon?”

  “Well, I assumed it was a raccoon. I remember going out the door at Breezy’s place. I was parked right behind Dudley in her driveway. As I opened my car door, I heard a loud bang from the shed in her yard. Like somebody bumping into a wall or something.”

  “Did you check it out?”

  “Yeah, I went over there. The shed door was open. It was pitch-black, so I used the light on my phone to take a look around. A shelf had fallen. I figured that’s what I’d heard, and I assumed an animal had done it. But I’ll tell you, when I went back outside, I had the weirdest feeling. It made my skin crawl.”

  “What was it?”

  Dennis shook his head. “I wasn’t alone out there. I was sure someone was watching me. I could feel their eyes.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  When I asked about Will Gruder, one of the other drinkers at the bar ratted him out by pointing a finger upstairs. I knew what that meant. The owner of the Witch’s Brew kept a few rooms for drunk patrons who needed to sleep it off instead of driving home. The word around town was that the rooms also got rented by the hour.

  The stairs were located behind a varnished door across from the restrooms. When I climbed to the second floor, I found myself in a cold, narrow hallway, decorated with posters of black cats. There were four doors on each side, looking in on empty rooms that didn’t offer much more than a twin bed and a closet-sized bathroom. The smell told me that people threw up here regularly. I passed seven open doors, but the last door on the right was closed.

  The noises I heard inside told me what was going on.

  I knocked hard. “Will Gruder! It’s Deputy Lake. We need to talk.”

  The grunting from the bodies behind the door stopped abruptly, and I heard a string of profanities. Footsteps creaked on the wooden floor, and the door inched open in front of me behind a chain. I saw a redheaded girl who couldn’t be more than a teenager. Behind her, the room was pitch-black.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  “Is Will Gruder in there?”

  “What if he is?”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  She looked ready to give me attitude, but I heard a male voice behind her. “Just do what she says.”

  The door closed again. I heard angry whispers on the other side, along with the rustle of clothes. When the door opened again, the redhead passed me with a slur about cops underneath her breath. The light was still off in the bedroom, and the shutters were closed. When I opened the door, I could barely make out the body of a man on the twin bed. The long stretch of pale skin told me he was naked.

  “Get dressed, Will.”

  “Turn on the light so I can see.”

  I didn’t bother with games. I knew he wanted to shock me. I turned on the light, and I kept my reaction off my face. Yes, he was naked, and his skin was mottled all over with the shiny, grotesque burns that he’d suffered in the explosion of his meth lab. Vince had died, but seeing Will made me wonder if his brother had gotten off easy. I didn’t like Will, and I didn’t like what he and Vince had inflicted on the people around Mittel County with the drugs they sold. But he’d definitely been punished.

  He saw through the impassive look I was faking. He smirked at my discomfort. His own face was like a shiny plastic mask, with a nose that resembled the opening of a skull. His mouth was like a round cave. His eyes were unaffected, still sharp and blue, as if part of his sentence was to be able to see himself in a mirror every day of his life.

  Will limped to a pile of clothes near the bed. I remembered Anna talking about his bad knee, which was wrapped in an elastic bandage. He grimaced as he stepped into a white pair of underwear, and then he sat on the bed without putting on anything else.

  “Vengeance is mine,” Will murmured. “That’s what you’re thinking, right? I got what was coming to me?”

  “I’m sorry about your situation,” I told him. And I was.

  He had the look of a man who was accustomed to pity from everyone he met and had no patience for it. “You can turn off the lights again if you don’t want to look at me. I keep the lights off for sex. Girls won’t do it if they see me. I don’t blame them. I’m a monster.”

  I felt like I should disagree with him, but I couldn’t.

  “Does Anna know you’re cheating on her? Does she know you bring other girls up here?”

  “Anna and I don’t sleep together, so I can’t cheat on her.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t hide my surprise. Or my relief. “Okay.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re happy about that. It’s not like Anna hasn’t offered, by the way. She’s told me lots of times that she wanted to do it. I said no.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, really. There are only three reasons a girl will sleep with somebody who looks like me. One is because I pay them. Two is because they think they’re at the circus, and they want to see the freaks. Three is because they want to punish themselves. Anna’s number three. That’s the worst kind.”

  “Then why do you hang out with her?”

  “I don’t. She hangs out with me.”

  “Well, do us both a favor and knock it off. I don’t want her with you. I don’t want her anywhere near you. You make her feel bad about herself, and I hate that. That girl can do amazing things with her life, but she’ll never get there with you dragging her down.”

  “You’re wrong. I don’t do that. She does it to herself. But hey, I get it, it’s easier to blame me.”

  “You told her she was a bad person.”

  “No, I said we’re all bad people. I’m a bad person. You’re a bad person. We sin. That’s what people do.”

  I had to remind myself that you can go through a lot of physical suffering and still be a jerk. Underneath it all, Will Gruder was still Will Gruder.

  “Look, you got a crappy deal,” I told him. “It doesn’t matter that you brought it on yourself. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. If you’re not dealing drugs anymore, great, good for you. If you want to spend your life reading the Bible and doling out pop psychology, that’s fine, too. But leave Anna alone.”

  Will shrugged. “Is that all?”

  “No. That’s not all. I assume you heard about Jeremiah Sloan and the Mittel Pines Resort.”

  “Yeah. Everybody’s talking about it.”

  “And about the death of Belinda Brees.”

  “Sure. That’s too bad. Breezy was cool.”

  “How well did you know her?”

  “In the old days, she was our favorite customer. Sometimes she didn’t have any money, so Vince would make her sleep with us instead.”

  “Real nice.”

  Will rocked back and forth on the bed. His blue eyes were cold. “So what? Like I said, everybody sins. You weren’t exactly an angel back then, were you, Deputy? Cheating. Lying. Wasn’t that you?”

  I ignored him, but I felt the sting. He was good at pinpointing people’s weaknesses. His grotesque appearance also gave him a strangely hypnotic presence. He was like a cult leader gathering up dis
ciples to spread his gospel, and Anna was under his spell.

  “Where were you Monday night?”

  “Lying in a hospital bed. My knee went out, and I had injections. I couldn’t walk. I was there Monday. I was there Tuesday. I only got out this morning. Sorry if that bums you out, Deputy, but I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “I never said you did.” But he was right. I wasn’t expecting an unshakable alibi from Will in Breezy’s death. To me, he was my prime suspect. “I want to talk about the weekend that Jeremiah disappeared.”

  “What about it?”

  “The Mittel Pines Resort is close to your house.”

  “So?”

  “So did you and Vince ever go out there?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Hanging out. Screwing around.”

  “What about that weekend? Did you go there?”

  “No. We’d just got home from our supply trip to Mexico, and we were back in business. We were busy.”

  “The road to the resort goes right near your place. Did you see anything that weekend? People? Vehicles?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you hear anything?”

  Will tilted his chin in thought. He leaned back, putting both palms flat on the mattress. “Music.”

  “You heard music? Where was it coming from?”

  “I don’t know. Could have been anywhere. We heard it both nights. Friday and Saturday. Someone was playing it pretty loud. Vince was getting pissed.”

  “Breezy thought the music was coming from the two of you.”

  “That’s why Vince was pissed. He didn’t want the cops getting nosy.”

  “Did you check it out?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? If Vince was angry, seems to me he’d go bang some heads.”

  “We didn’t want to attract any attention.”

  “What about Breezy? Did she come over to complain?”

  “No. We didn’t see her.”

  “But you had to pass her trailer when you were coming and going, right?”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “Did you see anyone there?”

  “Ten years ago? Who knows? Breezy always had a lot of company. All I remember is, yeah, there was music, and it was loud, and then somewhere in the middle of Saturday night, it stopped.”

  “It stopped? When?”

  “Come on, Deputy. Late. I don’t know.”

  “What kind of music was it?”

  “A radio station, I think. Seems to me we heard commercials. I remember we could make out some Aerosmith and some Stones, too. Vince was a big Stones fan.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  “It was a long time ago. So no, I don’t remember a damn thing. Are we done?”

  “We’re done.”

  Will got off the bed and went back to the jumble of clothes on the floor. I could see that his knee was mostly frozen. He bent down with difficulty and grabbed a white T-shirt that he slipped over his torso, and he grimaced in pain as he did so. Then he slipped on a blue flannel shirt and left it unbuttoned.

  “Remember what I said about Anna,” I told him.

  “Talk to her about that. Not me.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  Will gestured at his jeans on the floor. “You going to help me put my pants on, or what?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “You scared off the girl, Deputy. I can’t do it myself, not with my knee locked. It’s not like you need to be afraid of me. I don’t bite.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Lie on the bed. If you try anything, believe me, you’ll regret it.”

  Will’s mouth stretched into something close to a grin. He limped to the bed and lay on his back. I picked up his jeans, but as I did, something metal slid out of his pocket. I retrieved it from the floor and studied it in my palm. It was a silver chain, and on the end of it was a blue-and-silver enameled religious medal. On one side was an image of a robed, bearded figure, and on the other was a cross with capital letters circling the outside of the coin.

  “This is a medal of St. Benedict, right?”

  “That’s right. You know it?”

  “I’ve seen one before. What do the letters mean?”

  “It’s a Latin curse against Satan. It keeps him away.”

  “Do you need help with that?”

  “We all do.”

  He extended his arm and cupped his fingers together. I let the coiled chain and medal fall back into his hand. He slipped the medal around his neck.

  “Where did you get it?”

  Will rubbed the medal between his fingers. He took a long time to answer. “I think it was a gift.”

  “Really? From whom?”

  “I don’t remember. Maybe I found it. Does it matter? It’s not expensive, if you think I stole it. You can probably get one online for ten bucks. You should think about it, Deputy. Seems to me Satan must be hanging around you wherever you go.”

  I headed for the door. “Goodbye, Will.”

  “Hey, what about my pants?”

  “I’ll send your girlfriend up.”

  I went back into the cold hallway, then downstairs into the warm, crowded bar. I felt lost in a daze. I watched the seas part for me—cop in uniform again—and I headed out of the Witch’s Brew into the night. The snow had finally stopped, but it left behind a silent white shroud over the world.

  I got into my cruiser, but I didn’t turn on the engine.

  Instead, I sat there and thought about the medal of St. Benedict. Will was right that it wasn’t valuable. You could walk into a flea market or a church basement and find one for a few dollars.

  But I knew where I’d seen St. Benedict before. It was a long, long time ago.

  Keith Whalen had kept the very same medal on a hook in his barn.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Sometimes you get to the end of a crossword puzzle, and you’ve filled in every answer except one. You’ve got most of the letters, but you can’t figure out that last word, even though it’s right there in front of you. Usually, that means you’re thinking about it all wrong.

  That’s how I felt as I drove back to Everywhere. I had all the clues I needed to solve this puzzle, but I still couldn’t fill in the blanks.

  I drove fast and made good time. The plows had been out through the storm and had already cleared the highway and the main street through town. Even so, it was late by the time I parked in front of the Nowhere Café. I checked my watch and saw that the diner had closed five minutes earlier. The neon sign in the front window was off, but the lights were still on, and sometimes I can sweet-talk them into a last cup of coffee or piece of pie before I head home.

  I got out and peered through the window. In a booth at the far back of the restaurant, I saw Monica and Dad. I felt bad that Monica had stayed late again to look after my father and that she’d have a long drive ahead of her on the snowy roads to get home. The night waitress, whose name was Patty, waved at me when I drummed my fingers on the door. She let me inside, and she still had a hot pot of coffee in her hands. I was saved.

  “Take your time, Shelby,” she told me. “I still have to clean up before I head out of here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s horrible about Breezy.”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  The diner was like a family, so I knew Patty well. I knew all of the waitresses so well that I probably had their shifts memorized better than they did. They were all friendly, all lifers in our little town. But I couldn’t help thinking that none of them would ever call me “Shel” and that I would never see Breezy behind the counter again, joking and flirting with the men.

  “Hello, you two,” I said as I slid into the booth next to Monica. Then I noticed Moody’s urn and c
orrected myself. “Sorry. You three.”

  “Much better,” Monica replied with a squeaky giggle.

  I leaned over and apologized in her ear for being late, but she shrugged it off the way she always did. Patty came and poured coffee for me. I closed my eyes and listened to the quiet hum of the diner. It always sounded the same and smelled the same, and at that moment, I was glad for anything in my life that didn’t change. When I opened my eyes, I saw Dad sitting across from me. His white hair was combed, his white mustache trimmed. He whistled tunelessly under his breath, and I could read the signs. He was lost in time tonight, somewhere that only he could see.

  For years, I had thought of my father as one of those things in my life that never changed, but that wasn’t true anymore. In fact, I wasn’t even sure I could believe in the stories that he’d told me long ago.

  “How are you, Dad?”

  He turned his warm eyes on me. “Fine, Shelby. How was your day?”

  “My day?” I thought about what to say. “My day was all about Breezy, Dad. Do you remember her? Belinda Brees?”

  “Do I remember her? After that diving save she made in the game last night? I love how that long hair of hers flies when she jumps. That girl is so intense on the court. Well, you all are. Trust me, you girls are on your way to the championship this year. It’s going to happen.”

  I worked up a smile. “I hope so, Dad.”

  To him, Breezy and I were still two high school seniors playing volleyball. I almost envied him, because he had this strange superpower to drop himself down into another part of his life. The man with almost no memory could remember everything from some parts of the past, if only for a few seconds. I wanted that power for myself. I wanted to go back to that Sunday morning ten years ago after that rainy, rainy night. I wanted to sit right over there at the counter again and talk to Breezy.

  I wanted to ask her: What happened last night?

  What did you see?

  What did you hear?

  Who was with you?

  But I couldn’t.

  And the fact is, I knew the answers to all of those questions, and they didn’t help me. What happened? Nothing. What did she see? Nothing. What did she hear? Music, just music, blowing in with the wind.