Polar Storm

by Deborah D. Moore

  “That’s all I can ask. Thanks.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bob Trudeau looked out the window at the snow coming down. “Well, this might be the perfect time to try out my new snowmobile!” He thought about the recently purchased and very expensive sled, and smiled. It was possible because of the double commission from selling Cliff Tucker that house in the woods; he was both the listing agent and the selling agent, which made for a sweet deal.

  By noon, he had the new, shiny red snowmobile loaded into the back of his four-wheel drive pickup truck with its newly installed ramp, and was heading toward Three-Shoes.

  The half-hour drive took him over two hours through the deep and drifting snow, and he wondered about the wisdom of his decision. He pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store at the only intersection of Three-Shoes and stopped at the gas pumps. After filling the truck and the snowmobile on his debit card, he parked off to the side out of the way and let the ramp down. The long, sleek sled backed out easily, and Bob put his thermos of coffee and two bottles of water into the console saddle bag. With the ramp safely stored back in the bed of the pickup, he zipped up his one-piece insulated suit, put his helmet on, gave the machine some gas, and with his destination only eight miles away, he sped off down the road.

  Ten minutes into his trip, Bob realized that the road was not being plowed or maintained in any way during this unusually heavy winter storm. That was both good and bad. Not being plowed meant by far less traffic, although he could tell someone had driven down it fairly recent. It also meant that anyone stranded would be stranded for quite a while. He pushed on, confident in his new ride.

  

  Karlie Coates hit the steering wheel of her Jeep hard, hard enough to bruise her hand. She had driven off the road and into a ditch when the snow swirled, blinding her, and she couldn’t tell where the edges of the road were.

  Her GPS said she was less than two miles from the turn-off to Parker’s cabin. Karlie wasn’t just a librarian; she was a librarian that excelled in research. It took her all of 15 minutes to search Parker’s name, coming up with a brief history, including his stepfather’s name. Following the stepfather link, she found he was very wealthy and specialized in land purchases. On a hunch, Karlie opened the public land records for the county and searched the last eight months for Cliff Tucker. She found Tucker Investments had recently purchased an 80-acre parcel in Three-Shoes, right where Parker said he was living. She copied down the GPS coordinates and put them into her onboard tracker.

  Karlie Coates wasn’t just an excellent researcher, she was also obsessive and a convicted stalker and had restraining orders against her from her last two boyfriends. This time would be different; she knew Parker would be happy to see her.

  

  The new snowmobile handled the drifting snow with ease, at least as long as Bob kept it on the road. The visibility was getting worse, but he knew these roads well, every curve and dip. He was approaching a known severe turn in the road to the south, when he spotted the pumpkin-orange Jeep, listing off to the side, half-buried in the snow.

  Those native to the Upper Peninsula prided themselves in many unspoken codes of conduct. One of those was to lend aid to anyone stranded, especially stranded in a snowstorm. He slowed to a stop beside the car.

  Karlie felt a wave of relief wash over her when she saw the sled slowing. She opened her car door and stepped out.

  “Looks like you got yourself stuck,” Bob said, shouting to be heard above the wind.

  “Yeah. Can you give me a ride? My boyfriend’s cabin is only a mile or two more.”

  “I know most everyone along here. What’s his name?”

  “Parker Adams, do you know him?” she asked hopefully.

  “Oddly enough, that’s where I’m headed,” Bob said hesitantly, hoping this wasn’t a mistake. “Hop on.”

  She grabbed her backpack from the front seat, and stuck the keys in her pocket. She pulled her parka hood up and tightened the ties. Leaving the vehicle unlocked in case someone needed to take refuge was part of the ingrained moral code she shared with all Yoopers.

  

  With the additional weight on the back of the sled, Bob had to increase the speed some to stay on top of the snow. It occurred to him that it was Karlie’s jeep tracks he had seen earlier, and that they were the only tracks. Once they left her car behind, the deep snow was untouched and the maneuvering was getting difficult.

  The back end skittered in an exceptionally deep drift and nearly toppled the long track sled. Once on the other side of the drift, Bob slowed to a stop and turned to face Karlie.

  “You better hold on tight. We hit another of those drifts and I’ll have to speed up to get through it. I don’t want you falling off. Got it?” he yelled over the increasing wind. She nodded and he took off again.

  Fifteen minutes and two more deep drifts later, he slowed yet again, and to avoid the jeep parked there, he made a wide right-hand turn into the side road he recognized as Parker’s. The old logging road, the dirt and gravel well beneath them, was narrow enough that Bob could see the trees lining the way. The leafless, majestic maples and oaks stood like sentinels guarding the woods and leading the way to their destination.

  

  David looked out into the woods. “I forget, year to year, how ominous the snow can look. I know it is coming down hard and that the flakes are getting bigger, but looking into the woods it’s all gray and getting darker and darker even when the sun gets higher and higher.” He was tired. It had been his turn today to clear the paths to the woodshed with the snow-blower. The paths weren’t long, but the snow was getting deeper all the time and he had to make several passes.

  “David, you’ve been out snow-blowing for hours. It’s almost five o’clock in the afternoon and the sun is going down not up,” Parker replied, concerned about his friend’s fatigue. He opened the oven door to check the meatloaf.

  “You’re showing a real talent for cooking, Parker. That smells great,” David said, setting up the chess board on the kitchen table. “What are we having with it?”

  “I was thinking some pasta instead of rice, and mushroom gravy,” he replied.

  “What’s that sound?” The engine noise of the snowmobile roared over the fierce wind, followed by a pounding on the front door.

  “Mr. Trudeau, why are you here? Is everything alright?” Parker asked when he cautiously opened the door and saw his visitor.

  “Cliff asked me to check on you. Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.” Parker opened the door wider.

  “Hi, Parker!” Karlie said flirtatiously, peeking out from behind Bob.

  Parker visibly paled. “Karlie … what are you doing here?” He returned his astonished gazed back to Bob.

  “Aw, I thought you’d be happy to see me.” She pouted for a second, then smiled. “I haven’t seen you at the library for a while, so I thought, ya know …”

  “No, I don’t know.” He was getting frustrated and angry that she would show up here. “Mr. Trudeau, why did you bring her here?”

  “Her car was buried in a snowbank. I couldn’t very well leave her there, especially when she said she was your girlfriend.” Bob looked uncomfortable. “Is there something wrong?”

  “What’s wrong is that she is not my girlfriend,” Parker said, looking at Karlie. “We need to talk!” He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into the only private room in the house: his bedroom.

  Karlie looked around and saw the bed. She grinned. “Nice room.”

  “Why are you here and how did you find me?” Parker snarled at her. When she reached to shut the door, he blocked her way. “The door stays open, Karlie. I want those two witnesses to see everything in case I have to report you to the police.”

  She looked as if he had slapped her. Her parole was contingent on no more stalking; if he filed charges, i
t would be her third strike and she would be spending time behind bars.

  “It was easy to find you, Parker,” Karlie said, softening her voice. “I’m good at doing searches. Once I found you, I found Tucker Investments, and found that they recently bought this property. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the dots.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that if I had wanted you to know where I live, I would have told you?”

  “But we had such a good time that afternoon at my place. Being snowed in here together could be lots of fun.” She tried to reach for him and he stepped away.

  “No, Karlie. You came with Bob; you’re leaving with Bob.” He stormed out of the room.

  

  “Parker, I had no idea,” Bob stammered. “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Parker took a beer from the refrigerator, popped the tab, and took a long swallow. “I met her at the library where she works, and a couple of weeks later, I took her out for coffee. The next time I came in, she invited me to her place for a glass of wine, and we … sorta hooked up.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Worst mistake I’ve made since I moved up here. She hasn’t left me alone since.”

  “Damn. Had I known, I would have left her at her car. She’s dressed right for the weather; she would have been fine until I went by tomorrow,” Bob said.

  “Tomorrow? You’re not going back tonight?” David finally spoke up.

  “I really can’t. The roads are worse than I expected; even with a snowmobile like mine, it’s treacherous; in the dark, it would be suicide.” Bob looked at Parker’s beer.

  “Help yourself, Bob,” Parker said. “Looks like we have guests for dinner, David.”

  

  Karlie fumed for a few minutes. She couldn’t hear everything they were saying and figured they had moved into that other area; she’d heard enough though. She thought for sure that Parker would be happy to see her. They had had such good sex that one time. Okay, she admitted to herself, it was only that one time, and he had been avoiding her since. What did she do wrong? Maybe Parker would give her another chance if she behaved herself. That would be hard to do. Her obsessive mind convinced her that she loved Parker, and she was sure he loved her in return.

  Karlie straightened her shoulders and walked out into the living room.

  “I must apologize, Parker. I’ve obviously misread your signals. I will leave whenever Bob is ready,” she announced.

  “It looks like both of you are staying the night. The roads are too dangerous to travel in the dark. Help yourself to a beer if you want, Karlie. Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes,” Parker said coolly.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked, all perky again.

  “Nothing! You are a guest in my house; an unwelcome one, but a guest nonetheless, and you will do nothing considered domestic. You can wait in the front room by the fire.”

  “Kind of harsh, Parker,” David whispered to him. Parker shrugged.

  

  “There are four bunk beds upstairs. Karlie, you can have one of those, or you can have my bed and I will sleep out here,” Parker announced later in the evening after dinner. Parker and David had done dishes, while they chatted quietly with Bob. Karlie sulked by the fireplace.

  The rebuff was wearing on her and the aloof composure was beginning to slip. “That’s okay; I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  

  During the night, when Karlie could hear the soft breathing and gentle snoring coming from upstairs, she pushed back the heavy blanket that was keeping her warm and went to the closed door to Parker’s bedroom. She remembered what he liked, how he liked being touched, and was determined to relive that night. She turned the doorknob, only to find it locked. Frustrated and angry, she went back to the couch.

  

  After a breakfast of coffee and pancakes, Bob was ready to leave and Karlie had no choice.

  “It looks like the snow has let up some, which is good news for me,” Bob said. “Again, Parker, I’m really sorry about this.”

  “When you get back to town, tell Cliff I’m fine, really. We have plenty of wood, plenty of supplies, and he’ll be happy to know I’m finally learning how to play chess.” Parker grinned and shook Bob’s hand. “No hard feelings, Bob, seriously.”

  “Parker …”

  “Goodbye, Karlie. Don’t come back.” He closed the door on her and went to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

  

  The visibility was better on the ride back, and Bob kept up a reasonable speed. He could hear Karlie mumbling behind him, and really didn’t care what she had to say. She had lied to him about being Parker’s girlfriend and that pissed him off. They pulled into the parking lot in Three-Shoes an hour later.

  “Why don’t you go into the café and warm up while I dig out the truck and load the sled,” Bob suggested.

  Karlie, deflated by Parker’s rejection, silently nodded and walked away.

  It took Bob less than 20 minutes to clean the snow out the back of the truck and get the sled loaded and tied down. As he went looking for his reluctant passenger, he spotted the county plow truck, idling by the side of the road.

  “Tony!” Bob greeted the familiar plow driver inside the small café. “Are you heading to town?”

  “Sure am. It’s a constant there and back just to keep the road open. I’m about finished with breakfast—you want to follow me in, Bob?”

  “I was hoping you would suggest that. I only need enough time to refill my thermos and make a quick call,” Bob said, thankful he would have an escort. During the time it took to load the sled, the snow had picked up with a vengeance.

  Bob pulled up Cliff’s number and called, getting the voicemail. “Cliff, Bob Trudeau here. I just left Parker’s. He’s doing fine. I’m impressed how well stocked he is and he should make it through the winter with no problems. Don’t worry about him, worry about the rest of us! Oh, and he said to tell you he’s finally learning how to play chess.” He laughed and disconnected the call.

  When Tony pulled out of the parking lot, Bob followed, and then backed off to stay out of the blow-back from the plow. It was hard enough to see as it was and the snow kicked up by the plow made it worse. Bob concentrated on the flashing lights on top the big rig in front of him, following at a slow and steady speed.

  Fifteen minutes later, Karlie said, “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Mr. Trudeau, I really didn’t mean to; I just wanted to see Parker again and I wouldn’t have bothered you if I hadn’t gotten stuck—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Now, please be quiet so I can concentrate on driving.”

  “Sure, but I want you to know I really like Parker, a lot, and I really thought he liked me, otherwise, I would have left him alone, but then when he came home with me and we fooled around, and it was so good, I just had to see him again, ya know, but if I had the slightest thought that he would be mad at me for coming to see him, I never would have, and now I’ve got my car stuck on the side of the road, and—”

  “SHUT UP!” Bob glared at her, his patience with her gone. In the short time it took to say those two words, his eyes left the road. In the blinding storm, and on the tight curve, the big pickup truck skidded and left the road, careening down the deep, snow-filled ravine, flipped over twice, and buried itself under tons of snow. The impact threw both passengers against the windshield in spite of the seatbelts, rendering Karlie unconscious and Bob instantly dead with a crushed ribcage from the impact of the steering wheel. Both were left hanging upside down in the dark. Karlie woke hours later, cold and only semi-lucid from the loss of blood. Unable to free herself from the seatbelt, she died a slow, painful and lonely death.

  The truck, and bodies, wouldn’t be found for months.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  While David
was still upstairs sleeping in, Parker opened his laptop; he was behind in writing down his thoughts and making notes about all that went on. Unsure about what to say concerning Chad, he left the episode completely out. He did, however, add the visit from Bob Trudeau and Karlie, commenting they were the first visitors since the storm had started. Satisfied that would cover their agreed-upon story of Chad never showing up there, he continued with how the supplies were holding out, how he was learning to play chess, and how much work it was to keep the paths cleared, even with the snow-blower.

  The sound of David coughing upstairs intruded into his thoughts momentarily, and he went back to writing. Another and worse cough pulled Parker completely from his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said aloud and took the stairs two at a time.

  David was huddled under the blankets, shivering and sweating.

  “David,” Parker said, touching his shoulder. “David! You sound terrible.”

  David peeked out from under the covers. “I feel terrible!” and he coughed again, a deep and raspy growl from deep in his chest. His dark hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead; his bloodshot eyes were rimmed in red.

  “You need to come downstairs by the fire.”

  “I just want to sleep.” He pulled the blanket over his face.

  “You can sleep downstairs! Come on!” Parker said, yanking the covers off David and tugged on his sweat-soaked arm. He half-carried, half-led David down the stairs and dropped him on the couch. Back up in David’s room, he took blankets off the other bed after seeing how wet from sweat David’s bed was.

  “David,” Parker said quietly, “I’ve made up one of the swivel chairs for you. You really need to stay semi-upright to make it easier to breathe.” He led the un-protesting boy to the chair he had moved closer to the fireplace, settling him in, and then covering him with more blankets. Parker pushed on the footrest to ease the chair back to a forty-five degree angle. “I’m going to fix you some tea.”