Deep Freeze

by Lisa Jackson

  “Cassie!” Jenna said, but let out a laugh and Allie giggled.

  Turnquist turned several shades of red and excused himself.

  Jenna had no recourse but to accept a ride with the sheriff. She only hoped he had the good sense not to bring the snapshots of his wife along.

  “Okay, let’s get one thing straight,” Jenna said as he held the door open for her and she hoisted herself into his Blazer. “This wasn’t my idea. I could have driven myself into town but Jake wouldn’t hear of it. So, whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with each other for the next couple of hours.”

  “I’ll try to survive,” he said dryly and was rewarded with a stare meant to cut through steel. He slammed the door shut and walked through the cutting wind to the driver’s side. Once he’d started the car and they were easing out of the gate that Turnquist had opened, he said, “You know, I think we should both lighten up. It’ll make the night a lot more enjoyable.”

  “Okay.” She nodded slowly as if to convince herself as he flipped on the wipers. “But I think I should explain about last night.”

  “Is there something to explain?”

  “Yeah, I think there is. I know that you probably think everyone from L.A. is ultra-hip and sexually free and sleeps around.”

  “That’s not what I think at all.”

  “And that’s not what I do, either.” She looked out the side window and scraped at the moisture collecting on the inside with a fingernail. Though her face was turned away from him, he caught a glimpse of her profile and noticed the corners of her mouth had pulled into a thoughtful frown. “I’m not all that sexually liberated and so…so last night…well, I should have insisted upon protection.”

  His hands tightened over the wheel. “Is that what you’re worried about? Pregnancy?”

  “Yeah, to begin with. I mean, I can’t believe I lost my head like that. After all the lectures to Cassie and then I…I…oh, well, you know what happened. You were there.”

  “I was as much at fault as you.”

  “At fault. What a nice, romantic way of putting it.”

  “I didn’t know there was romance involved,” he said and noticed the little knot of wrinkles between her eyebrows.

  “There wasn’t. I just meant we should at least be kind to each other.”

  “I’d like that.” He slowed for a corner and through the snow saw the lights of the town winking in the foothills. “Just for the record. I’m not hip and sexually free and I don’t sleep around, either. At least not for a long, long time. As a horny teenager, I looked at things differently. So let’s not worry too much about anything other than keeping you safe and catching the guy who’s terrorizing you. One step at a time. Deal?”

  She let out a long breath. “Deal.”

  “So the next problem is Rinda. She’s not too happy with me right now. Thinks I’m harassing her brother and suspicious of her son.”

  “Are you?”

  His lips pulled into a smile. “I wouldn’t call it harassing. And I’m suspicious of everyone. Scott qualifies. But his mother thinks I’m overzealous.”

  They drove into town and he parked a couple of streets away from the coffee shop, but not before he noticed the television vans parked near the First Methodist Church and the crowd of townspeople collecting and milling near the church’s steps. So much for his sleepy little town.

  He hustled Jenna into the coffee shop, where the smell of brewing coffee wafted through the patrons. Over the whistle of the espresso machine and the notes of Christmas carols drifting from hidden speakers, conversation buzzed.

  As predicted, Rinda, seated at a tall table and sprinkling cinnamon onto the foam of her latte with one hand while pressing her cell phone to her ear with the other, took one look at Carter, scowled, and aimed with both barrels. “Geez, Shane,” she said, snapping her cell phone off while setting down the glass shaker so hard that cinnamon puffed up in a fragrant, rust-colored cloud. She didn’t seem to notice. “You’re the last person I expected to see tonight. Shouldn’t you be out busting crime or at least persecuting innocent taxpayers?”

  He grinned and tried to deflect. “Thought I’d take a break.”

  “Give me a break.”

  “Give me one, Rinda, okay? I’m just doing my job, and tonight it’s not about you or me or Wes or Scott. It’s about the women who are missing.”

  She wanted to say more—he could see it in the flare of her nostrils, the pinched corners of her lips, the angry glare she bestowed upon him—but decided to avoid a scene. At least for the few minutes before the service, she held her tongue and there was an uneasy peace, one he couldn’t think about for too long as he was watching the throng of people that had gathered in the coffee shop and spilled onto the street. He recognized many of the faces, though some were foreign to him—strangers. He stayed close to Jenna, his arm brushing hers, the scent of her perfume reaching his nostrils as he watched each and every person who filed toward the First Methodist Church.

  Cassie checked her watch. Time to meet Josh. He’d called and said he’d be waiting on the other side of the fence. In the woods. Where they’d met before. There was an old logging road that abutted the property.

  But she had to shake the bodyguard. Turnquist was more sticky than ever, though all her talk about “female problems” had been a brilliant stroke of genius and he’d left her alone in her room, staying downstairs with Allie.

  Her attempts at making it look as if she was in the bed, lumpy pillows with a bit of doll’s hair visible, were lame, but might work if she wasn’t gone too long.

  So…now…if she could just sneak out through her mother’s bedroom and shimmy down the smooth wooden pole that supported the hot tub and deck, she’d have it made. She’d put extra clothes in a backpack and slipped through the rooms upstairs, her ears cued into any sounds out of the ordinary.

  Assured that the big lug of a bodyguard wasn’t climbing the stairs, she darted out the door to the deck, closed it softly, and eased her way down the pole.

  She ignored the part of her mind that accused her of being nuts, the part that reminded her that women were being abducted left and right, the part that mentioned the weirdo notes and icky finger her mother had received.

  All it proved was that the house wasn’t safe. Not even with Jake Turnquist, the ridiculous excuse for a bodyguard.

  She slipped on her boots, hung close to the house, careful to duck beneath the windows, then sprinted across the breezeway and around the garage. She hazarded one last look over her shoulder and nearly tripped when she saw Allie standing in the window of Cassie’s room.

  What? No way!

  Cassie looked up at the house again, but this time Allie’s image was gone—almost as if what she’d seen had been a damned ghost. Pull yourself together, she thought, and zipping her coat to her neck, she dashed beneath the windmill and behind the barn, her boots slipping and leaving tracks that she hoped the snow would cover.

  The air was so cold it burned her lungs, the wind wailing down the gorge and forcing the snow-laden branches of the fir trees to dance and sway.

  This is stupid, she realized. It was too damned cold to be out here, too scary with the nutcase of an abductor on the loose, a royal pain in the butt. She’d meet Josh and tell him she’d changed her mind. No party was worth all the hassle. And then there was her mom. As mad as Cassie was with her, she couldn’t risk scaring her out of her mind. If Jenna found Cassie gone, not only would Cassie be grounded for life, but Jenna would be frightened and the woman was already losing it. No…it wasn’t worth it. And besides, truth to tell, Josh was boring her these days, but then, what wasn’t?

  Head ducked against the brutal wind, she made her way along the fence line, found the usual spot, and hoisted her backpack over the top rail. It hit the soft snow and was nearly buried. She climbed over, jumped to the ground, and grabbed the pack by its strap.

  “Josh,” she whispered. “Are you here?”

  She heard nothing, glanced a
t her watch again, and silently damned the big jerk if he was running late or had stood her up. She flipped open her cell phone, dialed his number, and waited as voice mail picked up. “Damn it, Josh, don’t do this.” When it came time to record, she said, “I’m here where I’m supposed to be. I’ll wait five minutes and if you don’t show up, then I’m going back home. This is insane anyway. It’s freezing out here.” She clicked the phone shut and eased into the surrounding woods where she wouldn’t be seen by Allie.

  She wasn’t looking out the window. That was your guilty imagination working double time.

  The wind whistled wildly. Eerily. Cassie ducked behind one tree, reached into her backpack, and after tearing off one glove with her teeth, fumbled through the pockets until she found her cigarettes and a lighter. She lit up with trembling fingers, then shouldered the pack and walked toward the logging road. Maybe Josh was waiting for her in the warmth of the truck. He probably had his music on so loud he couldn’t hear his damned phone ring.

  But that didn’t seem right. He was never without his phone. Always answered. “First time for everything,” she thought, and spied a flash of light through the curtain of snow. She drew hard on her cigarette and stared, saw the flash again. Headlights! He was waiting for her. Well, the idiot. He was going to get a piece of her mind! She marched through the trees, heard the music from his CD player, saw him sitting behind the wheel.

  The son of a bitch wasn’t even going to get out of the truck to greet her. “Hey! I’ve been waiting over there where we were supposed to meet!” she said, but he didn’t move, didn’t act as if he could even see her. That was it. She had to break up with him. She’d thought someone was better than no one, but she’d been wrong.

  “Cassie!”

  She froze, turned toward the sound.

  “Cassie!” Allie’s voice rang through the trees.

  What was the kid thinking? This was a nightmare. She had to turn back. Tossing her cigarette into the snow, she walked to the passenger door of the pickup and yanked it open. “Look, I can’t do this,” she said, before she really looked at Josh. He still didn’t turn in her direction. “Josh, did you hear me? I’ve got to go back to…”

  Something moved behind her. Soft, stealthy footsteps in the snow.

  Josh moved then—slid, really—his body falling across the seat of the pickup, his eyes staring up sightlessly, blood staining the front of his black shirt. A dark, oozing gash sliced across his throat.

  Cassie screamed. Turned. Saw her attacker and felt him pin her against the car. Frantically, she kicked and clawed, slammed her fist into his nose. Beneath his ski mask, he yelped. She kicked upward, aiming for his groin, but, as if anticipating her attack, he shifted so that her knee hit him in the thigh. Over his shoulder she spied something, a movement. Her heart soared for an instant, thinking it might be help—and then she spied Allie.

  “Run!” she shrieked, still fighting. “Run, run, run!!!!!”

  Her attacker glanced over his shoulder. “Son of a bitch!” he growled in a familiar voice Cassie felt she should recognize.

  “Run!” she yelled. “Get help!”

  Allie took off through the trees, darting into the thicket.

  “Shit!”

  Cassie slid from his grasp, but he caught her again, his gloved hands catching her stocking cap. It came off and his fingers snagged in her hair. He pulled so roughly she was yanked backward, her feet slipping from beneath her. She fell into the snow and he was on top of her in an instant, strong legs straddling her, his crotch stretched beneath her breasts, one arm grabbing both her wrists and holding them over her head.

  She flailed and bucked, but he didn’t seem to notice as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a device that looked like the remote control to the television.

  A second later he pressed it against her throat and Cassie’s body jolted, electricity zapping through her tissues to leave her helpless as a lamb. She moaned, couldn’t move, and just before she blacked out she sent up a prayer that Allie would be safe.

  CHAPTER 43

  The vigil fast became a media circus. Despite the bad weather, half the citizens of Falls Crossing gathered with candles in the square and walked into the church where Reverend Swaggert asked them all to pray, gave a short sermon, and seemed to turn on for the cameras. Jenna told herself that she was being overly suspicious, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the service seemed, if not phony, at least all for show. Oh, sure, the preacher cried a little, claimed that Lynnetta was his “personal angel sent from heaven,” and prayed fiercely for the other women as well. Flowers decorated the altar, along with large posters of each woman’s face, propped on easels and looking out at those in attendance. Jenna, head bowed, sneaked a glance at the display while Derwin Swaggert, his eyes closed, sweat beading on his red face, held onto the top of the pulpit in a white-knuckled death grip.

  The lights flickered.

  People looked up from their prayers while the reverend’s voice, filled with supplication and reverence, droned on. Jenna tried to concentrate on his words, but the wind had picked up again, whooshing around the building.

  Again the lights winked.

  Carter’s hand was on her elbow.

  “You’d think God was listening,” Rinda said, just as the lights went out. But the church wasn’t in darkness, not with everyone holding candles.

  Even the reverend’s eyes opened and he held up his hands, quieting the crowd that had begun to whisper and shift. “The Father is with us,” he proclaimed, “and we pray that He’s with Sonja, Roxie, and my precious Lynnetta. Peace be with you and good night.”

  Slowly they filed out of the church, brushing up against other townspeople, whispering as they walked outside and moved slowly down the front steps of the church to the dark streets. Rinda paused, turning her back to the wind as she tried to call her son, then gave up in frustration. The windows of the surrounding businesses were dark, the streetlights out, the only illumination from candles, flashlights, and headlights of cars and trucks passing through the town.

  Carter’s cell phone rang and he paused, pulling the phone out of his pocket. “Carter…what? Great…the power’s out in town here, too. Yeah…” His conversation became muffled.

  “Jenna!”

  She turned and spied Travis Settler making his way through the crowd to her. He had his daughter’s gloved hand clasped tightly in his. In her free hand she carried a votive candle.

  “Is Allie here?” Dani asked, her wiry brown hair poking out from beneath her ski cap in wild loops.

  “She stayed home tonight. Didn’t feel all that great.”

  “Bummer,” Dani said.

  “We were hoping she could come over and spend the night. Dani wants to go ice-skating on the pond we’ve got out back.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, if she feels better…and we have electricity,” Jenna said and felt Shane step closer to her.

  Travis glanced at Carter, then at Jenna. “Let’s hope the power isn’t out for the night.”

  “I think it’s cool,” Dani said, her hazel eyes alive in the faint glow of her candle. That was Dani, always ready for action.

  “That’s because you don’t have to chop the wood, keep the fire going, or worry about the pipes freezing,” her dad teased.

  “No, it’s because we play games instead of watch sports all the time.”

  Travis’s mouth lifted into a half-smile. “She loves drubbing me at chess and poker.”

  Dani rolled her eyes but grinned, showing off a bit of an overlap in her front teeth. “I think he lets me win.”

  “No way! Come on, kiddo, I think we’d better go home. See ya,” he said to Jenna, then nodded to Carter and Rinda. Carter snapped his phone shut and his jaw was suddenly rock-hard.

  “Have Allie call me!” Dani said as Travis pulled her toward his pickup.

  “Trouble?” Jenna asked.

  “Lots of it. Not only is the power out here, but for miles. A car went off
the Bridge of the Gods and there was a wreck on 84. Bad one. I’ve been called to it. Life Flight might not be able to get there with the storm.” He motioned to the SUV. “I’d better take you home.”

  “That’s the opposite direction,” Rinda said. “I’ll drive Jenna.”

  “I should have driven my Jeep.”

  Carter’s phone blasted again. He answered it, swore, and had a short conversation. When he was finished, he said, “It just gets better and better. Another car slid out of control at the site of the wreck, slammed into a State Police cruiser, and killed an officer. I have to get out there.”

  “I’ll call Turnquist to come and get me.”

  “Don’t be nuts,” Rinda said. She turned to Shane. “I’ll run her home.”

  Carter hesitated.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, I’ve been driving in this crap all my life, except for those stupid ‘I’ve-got-to-find-myself’ years in California. My Subaru’s got four-wheel drive. It’s a dream in the snow.”

  His phone went off another time and he nodded. “Okay. But if anything goes wrong, if you smell any kind of trouble, call me. On second thought, call me when you get home. Let me know what’s going on.” He squeezed her arm, then brushed a kiss against her cheek and took off at a jog toward his Blazer.

  “Oh, wow, a kiss? From tough-as-old-leather Sheriff I-don’t-need-another-woman? That’s something.”

  “Is it?” Jenna asked as they hurried, heads bent against the wind, to Rinda’s little wagon. “I thought he was still hung up on his wife.”

  “She’s gone, honey.” They slid inside and Rinda fiddled with the heater and defrost. The crowd was thinning out, and without electricity, the town was nearly dark, only a few backup generators illuminating shops. “Carolyn was my best friend…” she glanced over at Jenna. “Ironic, huh? Seems like Shane has a thing for people I like. Anyway, we all had a great time together, had known each other since high school. Wes and Shane and David Landis were really tight.” Craning her neck to look over her shoulder, she pushed on the gas and did a quick U-turn, then headed out of town. “Anyway, David was killed when he tried to climb Pious Falls—Shane was with him. They were both sixteen and it was tough on Shane, but he eventually got together with Carolyn, at my urging, and they were pretty happy for a while.”