Outside my window the snow hadn’t let up at all. We had at least eight inches accumulated already. Could be a hairy drive.
I started out for the airport at noon as planned, giving myself double the time I’d usually need. I figured I’d make it to the airport okay, since my Toyota has AWD and antilock brakes. Wrong. I had way underestimated this blizzard. We were slammed. No car was a match for Mother Nature that day.
The roads were much worse than I expected. Cars and SUVs were slipping and crawling through thick snow, sliding off into snow banks. My antilock brakes were doing yeoman duty. When an SUV in front of me suddenly skidded, I slid to a stop inches away from it. I managed to maneuver past the SUV, several sideways cars and a stuck bus, but when I finally got to the entry ramp for U.S. 36, a jackknifed truck had blocked it. No way to get on from that entrance.
I frantically considered other routes, cursing the truck driver who cut off my path. But traffic was barely moving. Visibility was terrible. I could only see a few feet in front of my windshield. I began to realize that I might not be able to get on the highway and, even if I did, the likelihood of getting to the airport through the storm was poor. More likely I’d get stuck on the highway for hours in this freezing weather. I hated to wimp out but I knew Pablo would agree that it would be foolish to risk our baby’s life trying to meet him at the airport. I had to call him and tell him I couldn’t pick him up, so he should take a bus or shuttle, whatever was running in the storm.
Too late. I got his voicemail. He was probably already on the plane. I left a message about the blizzard.
As it turned out the driver of that jackknifed truck did me a favor. No way I could have gotten to the Denver airport. I would have been stranded on U.S. 36 for hours along with thousands of other motorists. Some of them were routed off the road via on-ramps. Others abandoned their cars and walked to nearby hotels or Flatiron Crossing mall for shelter.
Worse yet, even if I had somehow gotten to the airport, I couldn’t have picked up Pablo. His flight got cancelled when the Denver airport was closed to all incoming and outgoing flights. So my eagerly anticipated Wednesday evening reunion with Pablo was not to be.
I turned around and began making my way home. Snow drifts obscured landmarks so completely that my familiar city looked like a foreign country. I drove slowly and carefully. Did not want to find myself digging my car out of a snow bank.
The radio was reporting more closings of businesses, government agencies, and schools. Everything was about the weather. “Get home before it gets worse. But stay off the highways. Boulder is on accident alert, so don’t call police for fender benders. Just exchange information and report online or at a police station within seventy-two hours.” Then came the news about the airport closing. I was so glad I wasn’t stuck in traffic halfway there.
I was also frustrated, disappointed and lonely. I wanted to see Pablo. I wanted to have that conversation with him tonight, snuggled in each other’s arms. I needed to do it now before I lost my resolve to tell him everything.
My phone interrupted my pity party just as I slid to a stop at the light at ninth and Canyon. Maybe it was Pablo. It would be so good to hear his voice, tell him how much I miss him, hear him tell me the same. But it was Elisa. “Hey girl, this is some snowstorm! No way Maria and I can get up to the foothills, even in the SUV. Can we crash at your place?”
Just the lift I needed. The company of good friends would be a welcome diversion. “Perfect. I’d love to have you and Maria stay over. And I have groceries because Pablo was supposed to get home today. I’m out in my car, but I’m almost home now.”
My driveway was filling up again, but still passable. I pulled up to the front leaving room for Elisa’s SUV. I figured we could all shovel later when the snow stopped. If it ever did. As soon as I got inside and got my boots and stuff off, they were at the door. “Whew, baby! Haven’t seen a storm like this in years,” Elisa boomed. “No day for driving. Thanks for taking us in.”
We acknowledged the drama of the day by sharing our driving stories. Then we headed out to the kitchen for hot chocolate with whipped cream. While we were drinking it, Pablo called me to tell me his flight had been cancelled. He was at least as frustrated as I was. “We sat on the plane for hours, before they told us the Denver airport was closed,” he said. “It’s a madhouse here. They don’t know when DIA will reopen, so they’re not booking any flights to Denver.” We commiserated sadly about our reunion, now postponed indefinitely.
While Pablo and I were talking, Maria’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and went off down the hall to the bedroom to take the call. In a few minutes she came back glowing. “That was Ian,” she said with a dreamy smile. “They left Breckenridge after the snowboard competition ended last night to get back before the storm hit. Got back really late and then he crashed. They live close to here, so he’s going to snowshoe over. I can’t wait to see him.” She was practically jumping up and down.
I was a little jealous that she was getting to share the snowstorm with her love. But I was also looking forward to finally meeting Ian.
He blew in to my front hall, covered in snow and exuding energy. Tall. Curly brown hair peeking out under a red wool cap. Adorable kid. No wonder Maria was entranced. Ian was excited about the blizzard and the great snowshoeing, wanted to share that with Maria. So after he and I were introduced, Maria borrowed my snowshoes and they struck out for nearby Eben Fine Park. Elisa and I opted to stay in and fix seafood lasagna for dinner.
I relaxed into the warmth of my kitchen, enjoying seeing the snow build up outside my windows. Very cozy. I love cooking with Elisa. We know each other so well we slip easily into a rhythm of shared tasks.
Once Elisa and I had our lasagna in the oven and salad in the refrigerator, we got a fire going in the living room fireplace, put on some CDs and relaxed companionably. I heard shoveling outside, looked out and saw Ian and Maria making short work of my walk and driveway. Sweet.
I wondered whether Maria had told Ian that she had shared his secret about his mom going off with Erik. If she had, he apparently wasn’t mad. They were laughing and tossing snow at each other as they shoveled. Maybe Maria had postponed telling him in order to preserve the happy space between them for a while. I could relate to that strategy.
They came in, filling my front hall with wet boots, coats, and hats. Melting snow everywhere. I lent Maria some dry sweatpants but Ian had to dry as well as he could by the fire. When they were finally comfortable on the couch, legs touching, his arm around her shoulders, I invited Ian to stay for dinner. “That would be awesome,” he said, grinning. “But would it be okay if I invite my aunt Brandi to come too. She’s home alone and I’ve been away for a week and hardly seen her since I got back.”
“Sure. But can she get here in this weather?”
He waved away my concerns. “No worries. She got Mom’s car back from the cops. Subaru Outback. Skier’s favorite car. You wouldn’t believe the snow Mom and I have driven though in the mountains in that car.”
§ § §
Brandi arrived with a chocolate cake and a bottle of wine, which she handed to me so she could take off her coat and boots. “My big sister Sabrina bakes totally bitchin cakes,” she said with a friendly smile. “This one was in the freezer, so I brought it to share. Thanks so much for the invite. I totally need to catch up with my outrageous nephew.” She darted across to the couch, threw her arms around Ian, and planted a loud kiss on his forehead. “You next, Maria sweetie pie,” she said, leaning over to kiss Maria. “It’s been too long.”
Maria giggled. Ian grabbed Brandi and pulled her down to sit on the couch on the other side of him from Maria. “I love you too, Brandi,” he said. “But I need to introduce you to Maria’s mom and her friend Cleo. So kick back for a sec, okay?”
My head was spinning at the thought of so casually eating a dead woman’s cake. Or possibly a missing woman’s cake. But really? My tongue was stuck somewhere in the back of my m
outh waiting for my mind to clear.
But Elisa picked up the slack with her usual charm. She stood up, walked across the room to Brandi, and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Elisa, Maria’s mom. Thanks for bringing the wine. I was just wishing for a glass to enjoy by the fire.”
“Hey, great to finally meet you,” Brandi stood up and, ignoring Elisa’s outstretched hand, threw her arms around Elisa’s shoulders. Then she turned to Ian. “Cleo and I have already met,” she said. “She’s a friend of Gayle Winfield and she’s been helping Gayle try to find your mom. They think she’s dead up there in the mountains. I keep telling everyone that missing persons turn up alive all the time and Sabrina will come back when the time is right.”
Oops. That was a conversation stopper. Elisa silently made her way back to her chair by the fire. Brandi sat back down on the couch. No one spoke. The only sound in the room was the music—“this’ll be the day that I die, this’ll be the day that I die.” Madonna singing “American Pie.”
The lyrics hung heavily among us in the room for several seconds until Elisa ventured gently onto the thin ice. “Ian, I’m thinking about your mom, how much you must be missing her. It’s been what—a month she’s been gone now?” she said softly. “And you too, Brandi, it must be horrible, not knowing.”
Maria pulled away from Ian and glared at Elisa. “Okay, Mom, enough, okay,” she said sternly.
Ian patted Maria’s arm. “Chill,” he said. “She’s doing the nice parent thing.”
“I wish,” Maria said. “But what’s real is my mom has an agenda here. She’s backing me into a corner. Right, mom?”
Of course Maria was right. Elisa did have an agenda. But so did we all. Elisa wanted to talk with Brandi about Erik. I wanted to hear that conversation. Maria wanted to avoid it. But knowing Elisa as well as I do, I knew she wouldn’t back down.
Sure enough, Elisa continued to push. “Maria, this isn’t a game. It’s a life and death situation. We all need to share what we know.” Elisa said.
“Hey. News flash!” Brandi barked. “We know what Gayle thinks and that she wants me out of the picture. If that’s what you have to share, you can skip it.”
Just as I had seen in my office, Brandi’s mood goes up and down like a yo-yo. One more way she’s a challenge for Sabrina.
“No,” Maria said, turning resolutely to face Ian. “This is not about Gayle. It’s about Erik. I told Mom and Cleo about how Erik called Brandi, and how he said he had a surprise for your mom, and how Brandi told him where your mom would be, and how you think your mom went off with Erik.” She wept softly. “I’m so sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t tell. But Mom and Cleo know stuff about Erik, really bad stuff. Your mom could be in trouble.”
Then everyone was talking at once, sharing information and impressions of Erik—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the uglier. It took some doing, but Elisa and I finally convinced Ian and Brandi that my information about Erik was real, verified by personal experience.
As I described Erik’s sociopathic behavior in detail, and talked about his three wives, who all died or disappeared under mysterious circumstances, Brandi went from vehement argument to strained silence, to tense, carefully worded questions. Finally she held her hands up to stop me. “Enough,” she said, her jaw jutting forward. “I get that Sabrina could be in deep shit. But she’s a smart girl, smarter than his ditzy wives. If he bullies her, she’ll bust his balls for sure.”
Ian had been silent for a while, eyes squeezed shut. His breath was shallow and rapid, his fists tightly clenched. Suddenly he jumped up and planted himself in front of Brandi. “This is weirding me out!” he cried. “Erik’s a nutjob and Mom’s with him. Seriously? We have to find her. We can’t keep her secrets anymore. Seriously! We need to tell the police everything we know.”
Chapter 19
Brandi jumped to her feet, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, honey, we’re going to find her,” she said gently, embracing Ian and patting his back. “You have my word. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Ian gradually relaxed into Brandi’s arms. Slowly, she eased him back down onto the couch, next to Maria, who had been watching the interaction wide-eyed. Maria put her arms around Ian, squeezed him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Brandi collapsed onto a large pillow in front of the fireplace and gazed intently into the blazing logs.
My heart ached for this boy who I thought was trying so hard to stay strong. From what Maria had said, while he was away, totally focused on physical performance that required clear concentration, he had managed to keep worries about his mother out of his consciousness. Most likely his belief that Sabrina had gone off with Erik for a secret rejuvenating vacation had helped sustain him through his competition. But now that he was back in Boulder, I could see that Sabrina’s absence was a huge hole in his life that he couldn’t ignore.
Ian straightened up, regained his composure. “Sorry I freaked out,” he said to Maria, grabbing her in a big hug. “Gracias for the support.”
“No problem,” she said, giving him another quick kiss. “Whatever I can do to help. Just let me know.”
“Me too,” Elisa chimed in. “I absolutely want to help if I can.”
Maria jerked up away from Ian and glared at Elisa. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough already, Mom? You just couldn’t let me decide when to tell Ian and Brandi that I’d told you about Erik. You had to jump in and stir things up. We can’t do anything about Erik right now. The police are busy with this blizzard. Why couldn’t you let us have this evening before everything got all crazy?”
Elisa looked dazed, like Maria had thrown a huge wet snowball in her face. I could see her collecting her thoughts to respond, but I didn’t want her to go from bad to worse. We needed a break to unwind. I stood up and turned to Maria and Ian. “You two must be starved after your snowshoeing. How about we have dinner before we talk more about all this?”
Relief all around. I could almost hear the tension release like air hissing out of a balloon. Everyone pitched in to set the table, slice bread, and put the food out, engaging in idle chitchat as we worked. Soon we were sitting around my kitchen table enjoying the delicious sensation of warm food in our bellies on a cold, snowy night.
Ian was plowing through his third helping of lasagna when Elisa turned to him with a sociable smile. “I’d love to hear about the Breckenridge competition, Ian,” she said. “Your event is the halfpipe, right?”
He jumped and dropped his fork as if he’d forgotten the rest of us were there. “Sure,” he said with a slow smile. “Breck has this totally perfect halfpipe. It was an awesome event. Highs and lows showed who’s upping their podium percentages.”
Brandi was bouncing in her chair, grinning. “C’mon Ian, tell them how you did. You should be so proud,” she squealed.
Ian beamed. “Breakthrough!,” he said. “I’m pushing myself harder this year. Last year I wanted to make the Olympic Team. I rode to a level I’d never gone to before, but I didn’t get there. I learned what it takes, though, and I’m going to get there next time. So …”
Brandi couldn’t contain herself any longer. “But tell about the prize,” she interrupted.
Ian stopped and glared at Brandi. “I wanted that to be a surprise for Maria.”
Maria looked startled. “What surprise?” she asked.
“Like I told you earlier,” Ian said, “I came in second place overall in the halfpipe, so I get points toward making the U.S. Snowboard Team.” He stopped and gave her a loving smile. “But what I didn’t say is I also got $3,000.”
Brandi clapped gleefully. Maria flew out of her chair to kiss and hug Ian. “Really?” she screeched. “That’s awesome. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was planning to take you out somewhere nice and surprise you,” Ian said. “But I should have warned Brandi not to spill the beans.”
Brandi shrugged. “Sorry,” she said, reaching over to give him a playful shove. “But, hey, speaking of surprises, I have a couple for y
ou. Let’s have some cake and I’ll tell you what I’ve been up to.”
We took our cake into the living room by the fire. Elisa and Brandi shared the last of the wine, while Maria, Ian and I had milk. I felt like I’d been demoted to the kids’ table. This no-alcohol-no-coffee-while-you’re-pregnant thing was already getting old. But I wanted to be a good mom to this baby, so I didn’t take risks.
Ian focused his attention on Brandi. “Show-and-tell time,” he said. “What’s up?”
Their direct, good-natured communication style said a lot to me about their relationship—and it was all good. Neither took offense easily, or had to tread carefully, or beat around the bush. From what I could see, they “got” each other at some basic level. I began to worry that I was helping the wrong person. To hear Gayle and the other Moxie members tell it, Brandi was the bad guy here and Ian was her helpless victim. But that didn’t fit with what I was seeing.
Brandi leaned forward, facing Ian. “Well,” she began, “when Sabrina first went missing, you and I agreed that we should give her a few weeks to work out her shit before we panicked. That time is up,” she said emphatically. “Last week, when the three-week mark came around, I decided to put her up on a website called FindaMissingPerson.com. I put up pictures of her, and information about her height and weight, when she was last seen, stuff like that. And guess what?” she squealed, gazing at each of us in turn. “Three people have already told me they’ve seen her—one in Dallas, one in Albuquerque, and one in Las Vegas. Looks like Sabrina and Erik may be moving around the southwest. We can pass that on to the police if you want, Ian.” She sat back with a satisfied smile.
I doubted that the Boulder PD or the sheriff would follow up on tips like those, but I bit my tongue and kept quiet to hear what else Brandi would say.
Ian tapped a foot and nodded vigorously. “Definitely. We should tell them right away—at the same time we tell them about Erik’s call to you. Seriously—like Maria’s mom said, it’s been a month. We can’t just be waiting for her to show up.” He hung his head and mumbled, “Because I think something must be wrong. She should have called by now.”
Lynn Osterkamp - Cleo Sims 03 - Too Many Secrets Page 11
