Dark and Stormy

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  I grabbed one of the many broken limbs the storm had brought down and used it to dig into the snow drifts as I passed them. I got to the curve in the driveway without finding a smoking gun—or bloody brick which was more likely.

  I scooted past the side of the skola, poking around in the bushes that surrounded the building, but still nothing.

  I made it to the road where the killer would have maybe had a car waiting. At least I would have in last night’s weather.

  The edge of the Tillgiven property was forested, kind of. The land was surrounded by woods and farms. The people who had laid it out when they planned the Victorian era health spa had allowed about six feet of “woods” to cradle the school. Would the killer have ditched a weapon there or taken it away in the car? My money was on ditching the weapon. If the killer was someone who knew Rolf, he wouldn’t want to be found with the smoking gun in his car.

  The naked tree limbs wore thin layers of snow, and the snow on the ground was free from footprints and animal tracks. The police hadn’t made it this far yet. I used my booted foot as a kind of snow shovel as I walked forward, pushing the snow out of the way, looking for anything that might have been dropped here.

  About half way between the driveway and the fence, I kicked something that hurt my toe.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I wavered. The murder weapon?

  Did I really want to find it?

  I shook off the momentary hesitation, dropped to my knees, and scraped snow off the mound in front of me.

  But it wasn’t a murder weapon,

  It was a Tupperware dish. A really tall round one, like the one my mom put flour in after she got back from town.

  It was frozen hard, full of bright green water. I was sure it wasn’t Jell-O—the sugar wouldn’t let Jell-O freeze that hard.

  But something else was frozen in the green water…I squinted and tilted my head. The block of green ice was packed with fabric…stringy, no, strappy fabric. In the jumble I spotted something I thought I recognized.

  Was that my polka dot demi-bra?

  FIFTEEN

  Isaac Daniels

  The police all had fika at the same time. They didn’t seem to have come together to grill any of us or to compare notes. I was surprised. Wouldn’t they have wanted some people to keep working? Was fika such a big deal that even the murder investigation would pause for it? I swallowed a mouthful of coffee and stared out the window. They had left some poor sap out in the cold, guarding the crime scene, so I guessed fika didn’t trump everything.

  Dani had pestered the body guard for a while. I thought about following her, but it was cold outside, warm inside, and at some point, someone might say something interesting. Dr. Hoffen was counting on me to help the school out, so I’d just have to stay in here, eat cookies, drink coffee, and do my duty.

  I hovered around the edges of the room, listening in for anything of interest. The cops were friendly in the reserved Swedish way, which meant I could understand about one word in a hundred that they had to say. They seemed to think the småkakor were bra—the cookies were good—that was nice for Johanna but no help for me. I inched my way closer to people speaking English.

  “Just eat it.” Si sounded exasperated. I sidled up to the table just behind his. He sat with Bel and Gretchen. Gretchen looked green around the eyes, her lips, usually plump and pink, were pressed together in a thin line. She had a plate of knäcke, and cheese and a cup of tea. She nibbled her snack but didn’t seem to be listening to Si.

  Bel rolled her eyes. She popped a chocolate snowball in her mouth, a little shower of pearl sugar falling to the table as she did. “Better?” She asked, her mouth completely full.

  Si smiled. “Sort of. But don’t starve yourself. It’s stupid.”

  He was right. What we didn’t need right now was some kid fainting from lack of food.

  Troy and Xavier were at the table to my left, heads close together, talking quietly. I tried to listen in, but their murmurs were too low, so I got up and joined them.

  Troy nodded to me while Xavier spoke. “I just don’t think we should dismiss someone from town, not yet.”

  Troy shook his head. “I understand why, but there’s just no reasonable explanation for someone coming to the campus in that weather.”

  “The alternative,” I spoke slowly, hating the thought, but needing to put it on the table, “is that one of our group killed him.”

  Troy’s face was grim. “That’s not just the alternative, it’s the most likely scenario.”

  “Then who do you pick?” Xavier’s voice was cool, his face set. “Nick? He’s been here the longest of any of us. He’s had the most time to build up a motive.”

  Troy exhaled. “I don’t want to just pick someone. I want to let the police find the killer.”

  “Or would it have been Dr. Hoffen?” Xavier ignored Troy. “He’s been here for years. Probably knows everything there is to know about Rolf. Plus, he invited him here yesterday.” He lifted one eyebrow slightly. “It’s ridiculous to think it was any of us. Unless maybe Johanna? She’s from Brunn Vatten, like Rolf. Maybe she has a good reason to want him dead.”

  “Stop.” I pressed my hand flat on the table. “You can drag out each and every one of us and we can all agree that the idea of that person as a killer is ridiculous. The fact remains: Rolf is dead and the people on this campus had the easiest access to him during the storm. I was out last night. I know how hard it was to see, how dangerous it was to travel, and how unlikely it was that someone came all the way out here.” I swallowed. A new idea had hit me. “If they had risked all of that, then they had a strong hatred for Rolf that has to be founded in something we can discover.”

  Troy shuddered. “This is my third winter here, and a storm like that is rare. Rare enough that even a local would have to be insane to try traveling in it.”

  “It was the perfect cover for a murder.” Xavier said. “We’re already dismissing the whole town because of it. But who knows how many people Rolf told his plans for the day. Anyone could have known he would be here, come under the cover of the storm, and done him in.” Xavier stuffed a cardamom roll in his mouth and chewed slowly.

  “So what do we do first?” I asked. “Look into his associates in town, or look into people who might have had a grudge against him?”

  “Seems like they’d be tied together.” Troy said. “Rolf was around a lot this summer working on maintenance and roof repair. While he was here, he seemed different.”

  “How so?” I emptied my coffee cup and set it down.

  Troy narrowed his eyes. “Less…fun, I guess. Two summers ago I had chance to get to know him. He had been pretty gregarious for a Swede. Real jokey, and he flirted with the girls. They didn’t always like it, but he seemed to have a good time.”

  “But this summer it was different?”

  “Yeah, he was real subdued. Nose to the grindstone.” Troy set his coffee cup on the table.

  “Xavier, did you know him when you were a student here?” I asked.

  Xavier swallowed his cookie. “I knew of Rolf, but I left right at the end of spring term, and I had spent Christmas traveling. Because he came to help with some repairs in January, I saw him around campus once or twice, but I never met him.”

  “So you couldn’t say if he was different really…”

  Xavier shook his head in response.

  “Nick should know more about it. When the kitchen is done clearing up fika, we can ask him.” Troy said.

  From the corner of my eye I spotted Dani running toward the huset. “Can you do that, Troy? He might feel ganged up on if we go together.” I checked my watch. “You can meet me back in my office right after dinner, and we can talk about it. Bring him with you, if he’s available.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’ll see what Nea knows about Rolf.” Xavier offered.

  “That’s a good idea. Text me when you’re done chatting with her, and we’ll connect.” Dani had gone around th
e building. Something about the wide-eyed look on her face as she ran across the driveway made me want to catch her before Johanna put her back to work.

  “Sounds good.”

  I abandoned the men, and went to the kitchen to catch Dani.

  I found her in the cellar, hefting a box of potatoes onto her hip.

  “What did you find?”

  She grinned. “How did you know?”

  “I pay attention.” I snatched an apple from a barrel and crunched into it. It appeared I had surprised her, and I liked it.

  “You know the trees up by the road?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well...looks like our fish-pranksters were at it again.”

  “Hmm.” I chewed my apple slowly. She was excited, but I failed to see how the pranksters and the murder related. I swallowed. “What did you find?”

  “A Tupperware thingy with a nice selection of bras from the girls’ dorm all frozen in a huge block of green ice.”

  “Green?”

  “Yup.”

  “Our pranksters have a signature.” Bras? It was so…normal. A normal thing for boys on a campus like this to do. None of the implied hostility of the salmon-gelatin. “Why was it in the trees up by the road?”

  “My guess is so that it would freeze. They wanted to hide it. If it were on the campus, it would be found. If it was near the hiking trails it might be found. They wanted to freeze it where no one would accidentally come across it.”

  “So they dropped it off in that little wooded area sometime before they left for break?”

  She shook her head. Her mouth was scrunched up with excitement, dimples popping. “I don’t think so. Seems to me if it had sat out there for longer than a day or two, the ice would have looked older—have more crystals on top and stuff. No…it looked really recently frozen.”

  “Day or two?” I set my apple down. “Possibly the night before the storm?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So someone snuck into the girls' dorms, raided the empty rooms, and did this after we found the salmon. Someone who is still here on campus.”

  “It looks like it.” Dani shifted the potatoes on her hip.

  “Annoying.” I took the crate from her. “Any guesses who it was?”

  “Garret. He seems…bored.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Don’t say anything to anyone else. I want to think about this.” I opened the door of the subterranean storage room. “I want to get the pranksters in hand before they do something that catches the attention of the police.”

  “You don’t think they’d do anything now, do you?” Dani chewed her bottom lip. “If they are just goofing around, they wouldn’t.” She grabbed an apple from the barrel. “At the same time, knowing it was one of us is good. Getting some justice for the salmon will bring a little peace of mind to Johanna, I think.” She smiled and brushed my sleeve with her fingertip as she passed. “If you can catch them, that is.”

  Sure, why couldn’t I? I just had to catch the pranksters, the murderer, and sort out the runaway bride situation. That wasn’t too much to do over the two-week break.

  I followed Dani into the kitchen with the idea of watching Nick, Nea, and Johanna at work—once they all got back in. They might reveal something if I paid close attention.

  Troy must have followed through with his intention of stealing Nick for a conversation since Nick didn’t show up at all while I hung around the kitchen. Johanna put me to work, stirring a big pot of rice pudding.

  Johanna was quiet, and red eyed. Nea was pale and shaky. Dani kept a quiet hum of conversation, but overall the hour in the kitchen was a waste. The rice pudding smelled great, but I wouldn’t be allowed to eat it until supper, so I tipped my hat, figuratively, and left.

  Nea followed me into the dining room. She caught my elbow, “Isaac?” Her voice cracked. “Did Dr. Hoffen send you into the kitchen to watch me?”

  “What? No.” My face went up a few degrees, a clear sign I was lying. I wasn’t exactly, since Dr. Hoffen hadn’t told me specifically to spy on Nea.

  She swallowed with effort. “Fine.” She rested her hand on a chair. She had seemed shaky in the kitchen, but she seemed ready to drop here in the dining room.

  “What made you think he might have?”

  She pulled the chair out and sat down. “Because of the problems I’ve had with Rolf.”

  The fika had cleared out quite a while ago, but a couple of police men were hanging out just outside the door to the dining room. “Do you want to come to my office and talk?”

  She stood up. “No. I’ve talked to the police already.” She looked over my shoulder, probably at the officers. “I might…I might speak with Dr. Hoffen. I don’t know.”

  “I’m here for you if you need to talk.” I wished she would come with me, and not just because I wanted to know what she knew. She looked burdened, scared, and worn out. I was highly-trained for helping people like this. If I could sit and actively listen to her, pray for her, give her the full counseling treatment, she would probably feel much better. Not perfect, of course, but I was sure I could relieve some of her fears. “Seriously. Any time.”

  She nodded. She gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles white. “Maybe…maybe after work.” She turned and headed back into the kitchen.

  I paused to pray that she could make it through the day. I was glad Johanna was in there with her. If nothing else, her motherly instincts would kick in to take care of the poor kid.

  On the other hand, I was very sorry I had encouraged Xavier to try and corner Nea. The last thing she needed was a cool, calculated interrogation from Xavier. He was intimidating enough when he wasn’t trying to discover your secret motive for murder. I knew that none of us were leaving until the murder investigation had ended, but at the moment, instead of wishing Xavier could stick around the whole semester with us, I sort of wished he could be hustled back to his island home.

  SIXTEEN

  Dani Honeywell

  Supper went smoothly, if quietly. Rice pudding, knäcke, fresh bread, butter, jam, sliced cheese and ham, boiled potatoes and chicken gravy. I didn’t know how much of it might be traditional Swedish supper food, and how much was just convenient to serve at a school, but it was warm and filling, and no one was particularly hungry anyway. I ate in silence with the kitchen crew. The frozen bras bothered me.

  I had chalked the fish situation up to someone with a grudge against the Julbord. Maybe they thought it was tacky to throw a big party to drum up business for a Bible school. Maybe they were jealous that they couldn’t come. But I couldn’t imagine any of the students at the school were ignorant enough to think making salmon-aspic out of that much fish was an innocent prank.

  But the bra thing was different. It was an invasion of personal space, handling our most private clothes. The dye would stain the items. The cost per student would have been around thirty bucks each, give or take, but the round plastic container was big, and stuffed full. If the bras were ruined, the cost would be on par with the ruined fish. But the victims were us girls, instead of the school administration.

  So did the prankster have a grudge against everything to do with the school?

  I had told Isaac that I suspected Garret, because he seemed bored. But that was rash. These weren’t the acts of a bored student. They were more malicious. Who hated Tillgiven enough to pick apart everyone from the staff to the students?

  “Pass the rice pudding, please.” Nea’s voice came out so quietly, I almost had to ask her what she had said. She waved towards the bowl by my elbow, so I figured it out.

  “Isaac did all right.” Johanna said.

  I thought about taking them into my confidence about the bra thing, but Isaac had asked me not to, and they did still have bigger issues on their minds. I sighed. “Have they taken Rolf away yet?”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, a van drove up and got him about an hour ago.”

  “His mother will have identified him by now.” Johanna wiped her eyes
with a napkin. “The poor, poor woman.”

  “You mentioned your son knew Rolf…have you had a chance to talk to him yet?” I asked.

  “No, I haven’t called. I just can’t.” She took a deep breath. “I will talk to him in person, I think.”

  “Did he know Rolf well?” I stirred my rice pudding. It was delicious, but I wasn’t hungry.

  “They grew up together. Like brothers, almost.” She pressed her lips together. “They had not been close lately.” She glanced at Nea, subtly, but I caught it. “But there was a time when the boys were always together. He will be very sad.”

  “Why had they stopped hanging out?” I asked.

  “Life….” This time Johanna stared at Nea, her cheeks slightly pinker.

  Nea set her spoon down. “Mats is a good guy, Dani. Very good. Did well in school. Has a good job. A nice girlfriend. Rolf wasn’t the same.”

  I had expected as much, given the implications from the interview. “People go their own ways.” Johanna was looking strained, so I tried to keep my comments judgment free.

  Nea’s jaw worked back and forth like she was trying to decide what to say. Instead, she picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen, her seconds of rice pudding uneaten.

  I followed her.

  “What’s going on?” I spoke softly and sat down on one of the kitchen stools.

  Nea scraped her plate into the garbage can. “Johanna likes Rolf very much, even after everything.”

  I nibbled on my knäcke. “I don’t know the story.”

  Nea dropped her plate into the sink with a clatter that made me glad it was plastic. “Rolf…” She gripped the edge of the sink. “I sent Rolf to prison. Not for nearly long enough.”

  I choked on my knäcke. “What? Why?”

  “Let me think of the words in English.” She sat on the stool next to me and rested her head in her hand. “It is a very bad crime here in Sweden to make someone take the drugs that make you pass out.”

  “Oh no.” A rock hit my stomach. “He didn’t give you a date rape drug, did he?”