Deep Freeze

by Lisa Jackson

  Beside the bed, Critter gave off a soft, disgruntled growl. He lifted his graying head as if he, too, sensed a change in the atmosphere, a shift in the noises of the night.

  Then she heard it. The sound of a truck idling nearby. Close to the house.

  She glanced at the clock: 3:53.

  What the devil?

  Quickly she slipped from the covers, threw on the robe she’d tossed over the end of her bed; then, stuffing her arms through the sleeves, she made her way to the window. She peered through the blinds and saw a vehicle from the sheriff’s department parked near the garage.

  Her heart froze.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  What was wrong? Why was the sheriff here?

  The stalker? Had he found who had written the note…or was the guy here? Panic tore through her.

  Critter growled. The hairs on his back sprang to agitated attention.

  Jenna was out of the bedroom in an instant, her bare feet slapping against hardwood floors. She ran up the half-flight of stairs to Allie’s room, the dog on her heels. Her youngest was asleep in the bed, covers thrown off, arms akimbo, mouth open, and snoring softly. Jenna darted to the next room. Her heart was beating a terrified tattoo. She pushed open the door and nearly died from fright as she spied the empty bed.

  “Oh God, no,” she whispered, just as a heavy knock resonated through the house. Something horrible had happened to Cassie! That’s why someone from the sheriff’s department was pounding on the door. Fear propelled her down the stairs, dread took a stranglehold of her heart. Dear God, please don’t let anything be wrong, she silently prayed just as she heard the kitchen door creak open. She hurried to the stairs.

  “Mom?”

  Cassie’s voice!

  Thank God!

  Relief flooded through her.

  Jenna nearly stumbled on the last steps. Critter was growling and barking, his claws scrambling on the hardwood.

  Jenna flew into the kitchen as Cassie snapped on a light. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in bed?” Then her gaze landed on the man with Cassie, Sheriff Carter. Stern, chisel-jawed, dark, suspicious-eyed Sheriff Carter, whom she’d seen so recently.

  The dog was barking his fool head off, baring his teeth at the lawman and circling.

  “Critter. Hush! Now!” Jenna ordered.

  With a final suspicious growl, Critter slunk under the kitchen table, where he studied Carter with wary, dark eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Jenna said, cinching the ties to her robe, her gaze landing on Cassie. “What’s going on? Where the hell have you been?”

  Carter said, “Your daughter and some other kids were up at Catwalk Point tonight.”

  She was caught short. Catwalk Point? “Isn’t that where they found the body of that woman?”

  “That’s right.” Carter nodded. Serious as death. Cassie shifted from one foot to the other and studied the floor.

  “Why?” Jenna asked her daughter. “Why did you sneak out in the middle of the night and go up there?” She pushed her hair from her eyes as her heartbeat started to slow. What the devil was going on here?

  Cassie lifted a shoulder. Her chin stuck out stubbornly.

  “You were supposed to be in bed. What were you thinking, sneaking out?”

  Defiance sparked Cassie’s eyes and her jaw tightened, but she didn’t say a word.

  Carter said, “I tried to call, but an answering system picked up.”

  “What? But I was home and not on the other line…” Jenna said, then realized what had happened. “Wait a second. Did you leave the phone off the hook?” she asked her daughter, and a dark shadow of belligerence passed through Cassie’s eyes.

  “Oh, Cass,” Jenna sighed, feeling suddenly so much older than her years.

  “We tried your cell as well, but you didn’t pick up.”

  “I always recharge it at night. It’s turned off,” she said, sensing his disapproval.

  “I thought you had an alarm system.”

  “I do…I armed it before I went to bed…Oh, geez, Cassie, did you turn it off?”

  Cassie’s lips flattened, but again she was silent.

  “Cass…” she said. “How could you? I told you about the letter and the phone call and…”

  “It wasn’t working anyway. You know how it is,” Cassie cut in churlishly. “The red light wasn’t on or anything.”

  “Enough about the alarm system, okay? I’ve asked Wes Allen to see what he can do to make it operational until a new security company can come in and install one.”

  Was it her imagination, or did Carter tense a bit at the mention of Wes Allen, Rinda’s brother?

  “Look,” she added, “because of the storm, we’re forced to deal with the one we’ve got and it does work sometimes. So, Cassie, for God’s sake, let’s use it.” She sighed and stared at her oldest daughter. “For the love of God, Cassie, what were you thinking?”

  “That I just wanted to have a little fun. Do you know how boring it is around here?” Cassie blurted, then her gaze skated to the sheriff and she clammed up again.

  “We had to cite her for Minor in Possession.”

  Jenna’s heart sank.

  “They were drinking up there, doing some drugs.”

  “Oh, God.” Jenna sagged a little and braced herself on the kitchen island. “The other kids. Are they okay? Was anyone hurt?”

  “No. It was just a party.”

  “At a crime scene.” Jenna’s gaze slid to the clock again. “At 3:30 in the morning?” The severity of the situation hammered at her. Stupid kids. Both her hands clenched and she stuffed them into the pockets of her housecoat and stared at her daughter.

  Despite all her bravado and tough-girl attitude, Cassie looked scared. Good. That was a start.

  “You were with Josh, weren’t you?” Jenna accused, but once again, her eldest daughter didn’t respond. As if she were protecting that big lummox of a boyfriend. Jenna’s problems with Cassie ran far deeper than she’d imagined. “Do you have anything to say to the sheriff?”

  Cassie studied the hardwood floor as if it were suddenly fascinating and mumbled a quick, barely audible, “Thanks for the ride.”

  It was the best Jenna was going to get, and at that moment she heard the floorboards overhead creak. Critter perked up his ears and wagged his tail. Allie was awake. “Uh-oh.”

  “She doesn’t need to know about this,” Cassie said quickly as footsteps scurried overhead and tumbled down the staircase.

  “Fine.” For once Jenna agreed with her eldest. She was in no mood to create more of a scene, especially in front of Sheriff Carter. “We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

  More footsteps, moving quickly down the stairs.

  Allie, red-blond hair sticking out at odd angles, face knotted in confusion, eyes half-open, stumbled into the room. “I heard yelling,” she grumped, then stopped short when she spied Carter.

  “This is Sheriff Carter,” Jenna explained reluctantly.

  “I know. He gave you a ticket.”

  That he did, Jenna thought. “He brought Cassie home.”

  “Home? But wasn’t she already here?” All the sleep in her youngest daughter’s eyes scurried away. Allie gave the officer a wide berth, regarding him with distrustful eyes as she sidled closer to her mother.

  Jenna said, “Cassie had decided to go out.”

  “Out?” Allie repeated, glancing through the window to the cold night beyond. “Where? Isn’t she still grounded?”

  “It’s none of your business,” Cassie said sharply.

  “What time is it?” Allie focused on the clock for a second, then turned her gaze back to her sister. “I don’t get it,” she said, but as the words spilled out of her mouth, her expression changed from confusion to understanding. She blinked. Rolled her lips over her teeth. Held her tongue. She got it. Her questions stopped abruptly and, to her surprise, Jenna witnessed a silent look passing between her daughters, an unspoken pact Jenna hadn’t suspected existed b
etween them until this moment in time.

  “We’ll talk this out in the morning, when we’ve all had some sleep and we can think a little more clearly. All that matters is that everyone’s fine tonight, so, both of you”—she motioned to her daughters—“go on up to bed.” Jenna hitched her chin toward the stairs.

  Cassie, as if she expected to be called back at any instant, made haste to the staircase. She pounded up the steps, unlike the noiseless way she’d tiptoed down earlier on her way out. She’d had practice. Jenna hated to think how many times the girl had padded silently down the hallway and eased down the stairs. How many times had Cassie lied to her? How often had she disengaged the alarm and locks to slip into the darkness and meet Josh?

  Jenna’s stomach curdled. What did they do? Drink? Of course. Have sex? Most likely. Smoke pot or crack? Oh God, she hoped not. What were the drugs that were so available here? Methamphetamine? Ecstasy? For sure. Oh, Lord.

  Jenna sighed audibly. There was a chance that Cassie was already pregnant.

  Have a little faith, would you? Trust her.

  After she’s been caught twice in the last week sneaking out? I don’t think so.

  As much as she wanted to trust her kids, Jenna had a hard time believing that Cassie and Josh weren’t having sex. And Cassie was only sixteen. What a mess!

  If she could, she’d wring Josh Sykes’s scrawny neck and then castrate him!

  “Great,” she muttered angrily before realizing that Sheriff Carter was still standing in the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his jacket, and staring at her with his damning brown eyes. “I’m sorry about this,” she said quickly, “and I really appreciate you bringing Cassie home.”

  He nodded. “No problem,” he said, but his expression belied his words. “Unfortunately, this isn’t over. She’ll still have to report to the juvenile court.”

  “Which might be a good thing, considering. Cassie needs to be scared or shocked or shaken into some sense of reality and responsibility.” Jenna scraped her hair away from her face and shook her head. “My daughter doesn’t take much advice from me anymore.”

  “What about her father?”

  “Robert?” Jenna let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Well. I’ll call him in the morning…no, first I’ll have Cassie call him, have her cop to what she’s been doing.” She dreaded the confrontation. No doubt Robert would blame Jenna for not having control of their daughters. He was a great one to point out blame rather than handle the situation. Dealing with Robert on tough issues was tantamount to walking through quicksand. Impossible, pointless, and mired in all kinds of emotional muck that just kept dragging Jenna down. Robert’s knowledge of the situation wouldn’t improve things one iota.

  Again, she found Carter watching her and she was suddenly aware of what she must look like—her hair mussed, not even a trace of lipstick, her face lined with worry, her checkered flannel pajamas peeking out of her favorite, slightly worn, chenille robe. So much for the glamorous Hollywood babe look, she thought wryly. “Gee, where are my manners?” she mocked, feeling her lips twist in self-deprecation. “I guess I’m not used to guests at four in the morning.”

  “I didn’t stop by as a guest.” His voice was deep, and not as harsh as usual. As if he understood the trauma she’d been through tonight. Gee, maybe the guy actually had a heart hidden somewhere deep in that big chest of his. Nah. Jenna wasn’t betting on it.

  “Well, you’re here now. So…would you like a cup of coffee or something?” she asked, then spied her coffeemaker sitting on the edge of the counter. Day-old sludge was congealing in the glass pot.

  Carter’s gaze followed hers.

  “I’ll make fresh,” she offered.

  “Don’t bother. I’ve got to get going.” He stepped toward the door, but she was suddenly on a mission. And sick to death that every time he saw her, she was some kind of victim.

  “It’s the least I can do.” She knew that she was too hyped-up now to sleep, so over his protests she washed the glass pot, dumped yesterday’s grounds down the sink, and poured fresh beans into a grinder. Over the screech of the whirring blades, she said, “I’ve got a thermal cup you can take with you.”

  “Really, this isn’t necessary.”

  “No, and it’s not a bribe to get both me and my daughter out of trouble, either,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You know, it’s funny, but every time I see you, and it’s been a lot lately, I’ve been in some kind of trouble.”

  “Comes with me being a cop.”

  “I know. But it seems like, in the last few days, every time I turn around, I’m facing you.”

  “A nightmare, huh?”

  “Well, yeah. It has been.” She looked over her shoulder and actually caught a glimpse of his smile, a flash of white teeth beneath his dark moustache, a crack in his serious facade. When he smiled he was handsome in that rugged, outdoors-man way that had never much impressed her before. But now, spying the crow’s-feet near his eyes and the shadow of his beard adding to his all-male image, she noticed his good looks. Which was ridiculous. It was four in the morning, for God’s sake. He’d spent the last few hours dealing with her juvenile delinquent of a daughter when he had so much more to do. Yet, tonight, she noticed just how well he filled out his jeans and parka.

  “Sleep deprivation,” she muttered under her breath as she poured water into the coffeemaker and turned on the switch.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Nothing.”

  The kitchen seemed to warm with the aroma of coffee brewing.

  “Do you have any kids?” she asked, though, from the rumors she’d heard in town, she guessed not.

  “No.” He was leaning against a bank of cupboards, his gaze moving from her to the window over the sink where snow had collected in the corners of the panes.

  “They’re a blessing…and sometimes…”

  “A curse?”

  “Well, let’s just say…a trial,” she admitted, swiping at the counter with a towel.

  “But worth it?”

  “Absolutely. Ya gotta take the bad with the good.” She opened a cupboard and saw the travel mug she was looking for about two shelves out of her reach. Leaning against the counter, she stood on tiptoe and stretched, but her fingers barely brushed the bottom of the shelf. Jumping was out of the question, but she hoisted herself agilely onto the counter and was twisting around when he stepped closer.

  “Here. Let me get it.” He was in front of her before she had time to scoot away. Suddenly she was pinned by the sheer presence of the man, her legs dangling close to his hips. He smelled of the outdoors and faintly of tobacco and some kind of aftershave, but she only got a whiff as his fingers wrapped around the mug in question. “This what you want?” His face was close to hers, near enough that she saw the striations of gold in his brown irises, noticed that a few rebellious gray hairs dared appear in his dark moustache.

  “Uh-huh,” she managed to say.

  “Anything else?” He handed the mug to her.

  “That’ll do.”

  He backed away then, and she felt as if she could finally draw a breath. More flustered than she wanted to admit, she hopped off the smooth tiles, poured the coffee, and screwed on the cap, before saying, “Oh…what about sugar or cream?”

  “Black’s fine.” His cell phone beeped and he snagged it from his pocket. “Carter,” he said, his gaze grazing hers for a second. “What?” The skin over his face tightened, lips folding over his teeth. “Where?” he asked, and listened hard as coffee continued to drizzle into the pot. “Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour…meanwhile, hold the kids that were up at Catwalk Point at the station until I get there to talk to them…I don’t care where. Isn’t there a free cell? If not, the drunk tank…yeah, let them get to know the regulars. See if that scares some sense into them.” He snapped off his cell and offered her a quick, humorless smile. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll be in touch. I haven’t heard back from the lab about the note you received, but I’ll call today.
Put some pressure on them. I assume you haven’t had any more trouble?”

  “Other than Cassie? No.”

  His smile was a flash. “Double-check your alarm system. Make sure it’s working. And the gate. Why’s it open?” he asked, pointing his chin at the kitchen window from which Jenna saw the entrance to her premises.

  “Broken,” she admitted. Beneath the security lamps the double iron gates, mounted on pillars wrapped in rock, were flung open and packed with snow and ice, immobile. “It’s the electronic lock. Broken. Again. I’ve had it fixed twice.” She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know what it is with me—bad karma, I guess. Everything mechanical or electrical around here is on the fritz.”

  “Need help? I know some people around town who might be able to fix the alarm and the gate and even install cameras or whatever you want.” The small lines etching his forehead deepened as he added, “Of course, with the storm and power outages, most of the electricians are working around the clock. You’d be lucky to get someone before the spring thaw.”

  “I know. But I think I’ve got a couple of people who’ve offered to help.”

  “Good.” He glanced down at Critter and the old dog finally wagged his tail as he crept from beneath a cane-seated chair. “Yeah, a fine lotta guard dog you are,” Carter said, patting Critter’s head.

  “I’m not replacing him.” She handed Carter the travel mug. One side of the sheriff’s mouth lifted.

  “I guess I wouldn’t, either,” he said, then lifted the cup toward Jenna. “I’ll get this back to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Motioning to the high cupboard where she kept a few odds and ends she never used, she added, “You can see how much I was using it.”

  “Okay. Good night, or maybe I should say, good morning, then.” He took a sip, then headed out the back door. “Make sure you lock up behind me.”

  Jenna did just that, bolting the door and watching through the kitchen window as Shane Carter walked briskly through the breezeway, then followed his own trail of broken snow to his Blazer. A few seconds later he drove off, lifting a hand as he passed the house.

  She waved back automatically and didn’t move until the red glow of his taillights had passed through the main gate and disappeared into the gloom.