Deep in the Snow

by Wendy Meadows

  “I was having a very bad day,” Hank replied, taking his cup of coffee from her. “Sophia... so stubborn. She refused to listen to me. I knew whatever time I had was running out. I admit it was foolish to annoy Mr. Mintfield, but I was desperate.”

  Conrad watched Hank take a sip of coffee. The man’s coat was soaked with snow, along with the black ski cap he was wearing on his head and the black gloves covering his hands. But even without examining the man’s winter clothing, it was obvious from his red, frozen face that he had been out in the storm for a long period of time. “How long have you been standing at the back door listening?”

  “Long enough to know that it was time to choose sides in this mess.”

  Sarah sat down. “How did you find my home address?” she asked again.

  “You can find anyone’s home address online,” Hank informed her, sounding disappointed. “Detective Garland, you should know that.”

  Conrad gave Sarah a strange look. He wasn’t sure why she had allowed her critical thinking skills to appear weak. “Okay,” Sarah said, switching gears, “where are you staying, Hank?”

  “My location must remain a secret,” Hank warned her. “I may have chosen sides tonight, but we are far from friends. Is that clear?”

  “Clear,” Sarah said.

  Conrad sat still for a few seconds and focused on the snowstorm outside. “Nothing is moving out there,” he told Hank. “We barely made it through the snow to get here, and that was over three hours ago. By now the roads are completely crippled.”

  “I have a snowmobile,” Hank informed him. “Is that a crime?”

  “Where did you park your snowmobile?” Conrad asked.

  “None of your business.” Hank sipped on his coffee. “The local ‘Tin Badge’ station has a few snowmobiles at their disposal, though. If you want to go for a ride in the snow, use one of the snowmobiles the poor taxpayers were forced to pay for.”

  Conrad nodded. “Maybe I will if the need arises.”

  Sarah studied Hank’s face. Snow was still stuck to his beard. “You’ve been watching everyone today, haven’t you?”

  “I saw the man who decided to cost the taxpayers more money by shooting through Detective Spencer’s office window, yes.” Hank looked down at Amanda’s half-eaten turkey sandwich. “May I?” he asked.

  “Go ahead,” Sarah said, as she watched Amanda come out from under the table.

  Hank grabbed the sandwich with hungry fingers and tore into it like a starving animal. “The man that fired the two bullets through your office window,” he told Conrad with his mouth full of turkey, “is an FBI agent. But you already know that.”

  “I kinda figured,” Conrad admitted. “The Feds are searching for whatever Sophia had on them.”

  “A book,” Sarah added.

  Hank took another sip of hot coffee and continued to work on the sandwich. “The Feds didn’t kill Sophia, but they wanted her dead,” he went on. Sarah noticed that he ignored her book comment and wondered if he knew anything. “Sophia was foolish to call Gatti. She attempted to make a deal with him.” Hank looked at Conrad, then back to Sarah, and allowed time for his statement to sink in. “Sophia was preparing to run.”

  “Who killed her?” Conrad demanded, feeling his patience growing thin. “Just tell me who killed my ex-wife and we can handle the minor details later.”

  “Who killed Sophia?” Hank asked contemplatively, finishing off the sandwich and then sliding his gaze over to Sarah’s shepherd’s pie. Sarah slid her plate over to him. “Thank you,” he said and dug into the food. “Who killed Sophia?” he repeated. “That’s the one question that’s keeping me alive.”

  Conrad snatched his coffee cup off the table. “Take a hike,” he told Hank and drained the cup. “Go play games with Gatti or the Feds.”

  “Gatti wants you dead because of what Sophia told him about you,” Hank warned. “She wanted revenge on you, Detective.”

  Sarah raised a hand at Conrad and shook her head. “Please, Conrad, let him talk,” she pleaded. She turned to face Hank. “What did Sophia tell Gatti?” she asked in a concerned voice.

  Hank was still eating the shepherd’s pie. “That Detective Spencer knew the identity of the man who was sent to this snowy little village to kill her.” He took another bite. “Sophia made Gatti promise that if anything happened to her... if she ended up dead... that he would find Detective Spencer and force him to track down her killer.”

  “Gatti’s given each of us seven days to live,” Sarah told Hank.

  “That’s because seven days is all the time Gatti has left to live, technically speaking.” Hank finished off the shepherd’s pie and next grabbed Conrad’s half-eaten grilled cheese. “In seven days, the man who was sent to kill Sophia is going to make her little diary public. Yes, Detective Spencer, I’m fully aware of the diary your ex-wife was keeping.”

  “Sophia always did like to walk on the edge,” Conrad sighed.

  “The man who was sent to kill Sophia has gathered all of his enemies into one place to kill them, is that it?” Sarah asked.

  Hank shifted his eyes to Sarah. “You’re smart,” he said in a curious voice. “Maybe too smart.”

  “We’ll see,” Sarah said wryly.

  “Does that mean Detective Garland is right?” Conrad asked. “Is Sophia’s killer gathering his enemies into one place?”

  “Not his enemies... Sophia’s enemies,” Hank corrected. “Sophia couldn’t have known that you, of all people, would relocate to Alaska to track down her killer. She manipulated Gatti into forcing you to come here. But you were way ahead of the game, Detective Spencer. Now, all the pawns are on the chessboard, and the man Sophia so desperately feared is ready to play his deadly game.”

  “And you want to make sure that you teach us how to checkmate in three moves, is that it?” Conrad asked. “While you remain the strong Queen?”

  Hank finished the grilled cheese sandwich and wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve. “I have to stay alive,” he told Conrad in a serious tone.

  “You seem to know a lot about the woman I used to be married to,” Conrad said suspiciously. “I’ve never seen you before, and Sophia never made any mention of you, either. Who are you? I want answers.”

  “In time,” Hank replied and gazed into the rich brown liquid. “As I said, Gatti and I are old friends, but not in the way you think. I was employed with The Boston Globe for a number of years. During my time there as a reporter, I became well-acquainted with Gatti and his crime organization. I was young at the time, fresh out of college, and very foolish. I was of the irritating mindset that I could take on the world and win. I learned very fast that the world was cold, deadly, crooked, and cruel, and that I was not going to go twelve rounds with anyone and come out holding my hands up in victory.”

  “Gatti slapped you around some, huh?” Conrad deduced. “You decided to make a name for yourself and went after the biggest player in town, and you learned the hard way that the big boys play rough.”

  Hank fidgeted with his coffee cup. “Let’s just say that Gatti let me know that unless the articles I submitted to the paper were written to his satisfaction... my career would come to a sudden and painful end.”

  Sarah soaked in Hank’s facial expressions, tones, body language, and eye movements. “You didn’t like Gatti threatening you, right?”

  Hank looked over his shoulder and focused on the back door. The storm was howling and screaming outside, daring him to leave the cabin. “I was always hot-tempered,” he told Sarah. “As a child, I saw my old man bully my mother... he was a horrible bully. When I grew strong enough, I began defending my mother, which only made matters worse. The more I defended her, the madder I became inside. Before I knew it, I began bullying kids at my school.” Hank refocused his attention back on Sarah. “My temper never simmered down, and to this day it takes a great deal of inner strength to control it. When Gatti tied my hands and prevented me from writing articles, I snapped and went after the man in full
force.”

  “But not with the pen,” Sarah inferred.

  Hank shook his head. “I began watching Gatti, studying the man, investigating his actions, words, personal behaviors. I studied him the way a scientist studies a mouse in a maze.”

  “When does Sophia come into the picture?” Conrad asked impatiently.

  “Sophia came into the game the day I saw her get out of a limo holding onto Gatti’s arm. Oh, she was a beautiful woman. Young, daring, challenging... she was just the ticket I needed to destroy Gatti. This was before Sophia met you, of course.”

  “Get on with it,” Conrad ordered. “It’s getting late.”

  “Yes, it’s getting very late,” Hank agreed. He caught Sarah reading his eyes. “I took a chance,” he said, as he shifted his uncomfortable gaze away from Sarah, “and approached Sophia one afternoon while she was carrying groceries home to her apartment from Mac’s Grocery Store. She had her arms full and was in need of assistance. The right moment had finally presented itself, and I moved in. To be honest, because Sophia was so beautiful, I was a little nervous, but I knew the time to act had come.” Hank finished his coffee and asked Sarah for a refill.

  Sarah took his cup and refilled it with hot coffee. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” He took the cup. “Sophia wasn’t very accepting of my chivalry,” he continued. “She had a very smart, sharp mouth on her. However, I threw my charm into overdrive and insisted that I help carry the groceries. She reluctantly agreed because she had two gallons of milk weighing down one of the brown paper bags in her arms.”

  “Sophia loved her milk,” Conrad whispered to himself. With sadness in his eyes, he looked down at the gun in his lap.

  “Yes, she did,” Hank confirmed. “I walked Sophia to her apartment, and when we arrived I dared to ask her for a date. I expected her to slap me in the face. Instead, she pointed to a little coffee shop across the street from her apartment and agreed to have coffee with me after she put away her groceries. I was shocked, but I didn’t show it. Why would such a beautiful woman, one who initially told me to get lost, suddenly agree to have coffee with me?”

  “Sophia never wanted to owe anyone anything,” Conrad explained. “You did her a favor, so she did you a favor.”

  “I learned that fact later on,” Hank said. “Anyway, we had coffee and I really poured on the charm. I didn’t know it then, but at the time Gatti was pressuring Sophia to marry him. She wasn’t interested. But I soon learned that Sophia was going to use me to help her escape Gatti’s clutches.”

  “How?” Conrad insisted.

  “Sophia was sharp. She did some checking and found out that I worked for the Globe. With that truth in hand, she pushed me into a corner. She told me that she would turn over damaging information on Gatti only if I agreed to publish the information in the Globe. But I had other plans. I hired a private detective to take photos of us when we were out on our dates... one picture was taken of us kissing.” Hank looked down at his hands. “I really did care about Sophia. I guess I... loved her. But my rage against Gatti was so intense that I couldn’t see that she was nothing more than a scared little girl wanting someone to love her.”

  “Skip the dramatics,” Conrad snapped. “I was married to the woman.”

  Hank looked up sharply. “Well, she’s dead now,” he snapped back.

  There was a pause.

  “Sophia dripped information on Gatti to me in slow, painful stages. She was scared. She didn’t trust anyone, not even me. She threatened to have Gatti kill me if I betrayed her. Anyway, long story short, the day came when Sophia finally disclosed enough information to damage Gatti’s reputation and cause him severe legal troubles. But by that time... I had fallen in love with Sophia and realized I couldn’t use her to get my revenge on Gatti. So, I decided to publish what I had on the worm and make a run for it with Sophia. Only...”

  “Only Gatti found out and cut you off at the path,” Conrad reasoned.

  Hank slowly nodded his head. “Two of his henchmen ambushed me outside of Sophia’s apartment one night and drove me to a warehouse. Gatti was waiting for me, and so was Sophia. She begged Gatti to spare my life, but Gatti wouldn’t listen. He...” Hank paused.

  “What?” Conrad asked. “What did he do to you?”

  “It was winter,” Hank said in a pained voice. “Gatti had me tied up and thrown into the Charles River. When my feet touched the bottom of the river, I sprang myself upward and managed to break the surface to get air before sinking back down. Because it was the middle of the night and freezing cold, the two morons who threw me in were too busy getting their boat back to shore and didn’t see me.” Hank drew in a deep breath. “Little by little, I kept moving toward the shore, going up and down, up and down like a spring, catching small doses of air before going back under the water. Finally... I made it to the shore.”

  Sarah stared into Hank’s face. She saw revenge flash through his eyes. “You must have been frozen stiff.”

  “I was too angry to notice how cold I was,” Hank confessed. “But I knew that going after Gatti again would certainly be the last thing I ever did, so I played dead. I hid in the shadows and watched.” Hank looked at Conrad. “I watched you play a deadly game. I also watched Sophia fall in love with you.”

  Conrad stood up. “Hit the fast forward button. How did you end up here in Alaska?”

  “The night Sophia was to leave for Alaska, she was staying at a little motel outside Newark, right?” Hank asked.

  “The Bright Night Inn,” Conrad confirmed, impatiently tapping his fingers.

  “The FBI agents in charge of watching Sophia’s room weren’t too sharp,” Hank explained. “I slipped up on the car they were sitting in... very easily, I might add. Only, my gun wasn’t a real gun, just a tranquilizer that worked very well.” Hank smiled for the first time that evening at the memory. “With my foes taken care of, I knocked on Sophia’s door.”

  Conrad felt like punching Hank in the face. “How did she react?”

  “Shocked, of course,” Hank said. “ I didn’t stay for very long. I told Sophia how I felt about her and gave her my private number. Before I left, I asked her to give me the private diary I knew she’d been keeping. She refused. I explained to her that I was going after Gatti, but still... she refused. What else could I do? I left.”

  “Just like that, huh?” Conrad asked.

  “Sophia had a plan up her sleeve and she wasn’t going to let me ruin it. And whatever her plan was involved Gatti,” Hank said firmly. “I thought... I believed... that when Sophia saw me alive, that she would surely help me. I was wrong.”

  “You attacked two FBI agents,” Sarah said. “I’m sure Sophia had her reasons for being cautious.”

  “Reasons not concerning the Feds,” Hank replied darkly.

  “When did Sophia call you?” Conrad asked.

  “When she realized that she was going to die,” Hank said, rising from his chair.

  Sarah rubbed the tip of her nose as her mind formed different questions. “Why would Sophia tell Gatti that Detective Spencer knew the identity of her future killer?”

  “Enough for tonight,” Hank said. He walked toward the back door. “I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll talk more.”

  “One more question, tough guy,” Conrad stopped him. “Sophia disappeared for two weeks before arriving in Alaska. Any idea where she went?”

  “Haven’t got a clue.” Hank opened the back door. “Like I said, Gatti was smart to get himself arrested. The Feds are getting desperate,” he said as the icy winds outside hit his face. “Tomorrow, we’ll earn our checkmate.”

  Without warning, in one swift movement, Conrad ran to the back door, grabbed Hank, and slammed him down onto the kitchen floor. “You killed her, didn’t you?” he yelled, throwing his gun into Hank’s face. “You were the one who kicked open her back door. You wanted her diary to destroy Gatti, and once you got the diary, you killed her. Sophia knew your plan, didn’t she?”

&n
bsp; “Calm down, Conrad,” Sarah pleaded.

  Hank stared up into Conrad’s furious eyes. “I loved Sophia,” he replied in a surprisingly calm voice, although he was starting to see red. “If I wanted to kill Sophia, I would have done it the night I visited her at the Bright Night Inn. Tonight I chose my side... Sophia was forced to choose her side, and she chose to return to Gatti. Maybe you’d better ask yourself why?”

  “Where was she for those missing two weeks?” Conrad yelled in Hank’s face. “Where did the Feds take her?”

  Hank paused for a moment. “Do you really want to know the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath. “They tortured her for two weeks because of me,” Hank yelled. “The FBI tortured Sophia because they believed she’d passed off her diary to me because I shot their buddies with a tranquilizer gun and tied them up.”

  “Sophia didn’t call you because she wanted your help,” Conrad growled, “she called you to turn you over to the Feds.”

  “Oh, the games people play,” Hank replied. “Now either arrest me or let me up.”

  “You wanted her diary, but Sophia knew if you took it, she would be dead. It was only her diary that was keeping her alive,” Conrad said, rapidly putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his mind. “You managed to get to the diary, didn’t you?”

  “Get off of me,” Hank warned.

  “Sophia was going to turn you over to the Feds to save her life while running to Gatti to get him to come and rescue her and hide her. Gatti would never hurt Sophia. He may have threatened her life, but everyone with enough sense to tie their shoes knows that Gatti never would’ve hurt her. The Feds are after Sophia’s diary, and the person who was sent to kill Sophia has her diary, and that person is you!”

  Hank's eyes were cold and unreadable. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? But you’re missing one important fact.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have Sophia’s diary. The man who was sent to kill Sophia has her diary.” Hank looked over at Sarah. “Tell him I’m not the killer.”

  “I really don’t think Hank is the killer,” Sarah told Conrad. “Let him up. We have no charges to hold him on.”