by Meg Muldoon
“I’m… walking over… to,” I said, struggling to push it out. “Daniel’s house.”
“Cinnamon, have you gone and lost your damn mind?” Kara said from the other side of the phone. “You’ll freeze your ass off out there!”
“Well, you saw me in that wedding dress. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” I said, stopping and leaning forward to catch my breath.
I had waited out the snow, getting a later start than I had wanted to. Several inches of fresh powder had fallen. It was beautiful, but it sure made it hard to walk. With each step, I’d take an enormous plunge.
But, it was most certainly safer than driving these roads.
I had considered strapping on my snowshoes before leaving the house, but felt silly about it. Now, I was regretting it.
“I’m pretty sure Daniel would be plum-mad if he knew his bride-to-be was walking to his house in the worst weather Christmas River has seen in five years.”
“Aw, it’s not so bad out here,” I said.
“You’re nuts, Cin,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “But I’m glad to hear that you and John are all right with this blackout.”
The power was still out in Christmas River on account of some downed power lines. I was headed to Daniel’s house just to check in and make sure everything was okay over there.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m all right,” Kara said. “You know who is here, and she won’t stop complaining about how the cold makes her hips ache. I swear Cinnamon, if she doesn’t shut-up soon, she’s going to have a lot more aches to complain about.”
I started laughing.
“Anyway, I just hope this blackout doesn’t last too long. This is one of my best sales weeks of the year.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
I heard the sound of car wheels a ways off down the street. I started walking again. I was beat, but had too much of an ego to show it to whoever was driving the car.
“What in the hell is so urgent over at Daniel’s house anyway?” she asked.
“I…” I said, struggling for air again as I lifted my right leg out a hole the size of Crater Lake. “I wanted to check in… you know, with the power being out and everything.”
“Have the two of you decided where you’re going to live yet?”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Well, uh…” I said, pausing and breathing in deep.
Just then, I noticed that the car that had been down the street was slowing, coming up right alongside of me.
“Okay, okay,” Kara said. “Let’s talk when you can actually breathe. Call me when you get there to let me know you’re all right?”
“Yeah, will do,” I squeezed out.
I glanced over at the car. I squinted, trying to make out who was sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Be careful, Cin.”
“Okay I wi—”
I stopped mid-sentence as I recognized the driver.
Damnit.
I looked around, hoping that someone else was out.
But I realized that we were all alone.
Chapter 32
“Now where are you going in such a hurry?” he shouted through the open window.
I picked up the pace, my lungs feeling like they were on fire.
“Look, I can give you a ride to wherever you want to go,” he said. “There’s no need for you to be prancing around in the snow and ice like this.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m getting in that car with you,” I said.
He didn’t respond.
The snow tires of his truck rolled along the compacted snow, sounding like squeaking Styrofoam.
I was only a few blocks from downtown. Most everything would be closed with the power outage, but there would still be people around down there. I just had to keep going, and I’d be okay.
“Can’t you just stop for a damn—” he started saying, but stopped. He cleared his throat.
“What I mean is that I want to talk to you.”
I heard the tires come to an abrupt stop and the engine died. A car door opened and closed. I didn’t have to look to know that he was getting out and trying to catch up to me.
Warren had been bitten once by a Rottweiler when he was a kid, and growing up, he’d always taught me never to turn your back on a dog, no matter how friendly you might think they are.
The same went for ex-husbands.
I stopped and turned toward him.
Evan looked about the same as he did at the Christmas tree lighting ceremony. A little scruffy and wily-looking. He was in dire need of a haircut.
I clutched my phone tightly, ready to call Kara or Warren if I needed to.
He walked over, sinking deep into the snow with each step.
“You didn’t need to get out of your truck,” I said. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
“What’s the countdown?”
“What?”
He dug his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels.
“Till the big day,” he said.
“I’m not discussing that with you,” I said.
He looked down at the ground like a beaten dog.
“You know, I’m not the same man I used to be,” he said.
I shook my head.
“I very much doubt that.”
“I know you’re the last person on earth who should believe me, but it’s the truth. I’ve changed,” he said. “You know what I’ve been doing since I was laid off at the resort?”
He stepped closer.
“I don’t think I much care what you’ve been doing,” I said.
“I’ve been working with an organization that builds homes for poor families,” he said. “I spend every day now helping people. It’s taught me a lot of things. About myself. About others.”
I shook my head.
Did he expect me to forgive him because he’d built a few houses?
“Look, I know that I was a shitty husband,” he said. “I should have treated you better, and I didn’t. And I just want you to know that I see now how badly I messed up.”
He puckered his lips.
“And, uh, I understand now just how much I lost.”
He cleared his throat.
“I was a jackass, Cin,” he said.
He wasn’t going to get any argument from me there.
“You see, I’m going to be leaving the country here in a little bit. I’ll be building houses in Mexico for a while. But I just wanted to say this to you before I left. And, uh, I know I’m asking too much, but it would mean a hell of a lot if you would forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” I said, crossing my arms.
Evan never ceased to amaze me.
“I know, it’s a tall order,” he said. “But just think about it, would you?”
He cleared his throat again.
“And, there’s something else I want you to know, Cin,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m always going to love you. No matter if you marry the sheriff or not. You were mine first, you know. That counts for something in my book.”
I shook my head.
All these years, he was still clinging to something that no longer existed.
Something that he’d killed himself.
It almost made me feel sorry for him.
Almost.
I started telling him that, but just then, I heard the sound of car wheels approaching us.
I turned around to see a patrol car idling on the curb.
I let out a sigh of relief.
I didn’t say anything more to Evan. Because there was nothing to say. Everything had already been said the day we both signed the divorce papers.
And there would never, ever be any going back.
I trudged through the snow to the patrol car. Owen had already gotten out and was giving Evan a hard look.
“Can you give me a ride somewhere?” I asked.
He nodded.<
br />
I dusted off my boots, opened the passenger door, and got in.
Just before I closed it, I heard Evan say something.
“Call me when you’ve thought it through,” he said. “I’ll be around for a little while yet. And I want to see you again before I leave.”
I didn’t say anything.
Owen got in, took the car out of park, and we sped down the street.
I looked in the rearview mirror. Evan was still standing knee-deep in snow, watching us with a sad expression on his face.
Chapter 33
“Wind’s supposed to pick up soon,” he said, pulling in front of Daniel’s house. “It’s good I came across you when I did.”
I had been thinking the same thing, that I was lucky he’d come across me. But not because of the storm.
“Who was that guy you were talking to?” he asked, killing the engine.
The heater died with it.
“Someone from my past,” I said, quietly.
“Sounds mysterious.”
“It’s not really,” I said. “That was my ex-husband.”
I could tell that he was surprised.
“I didn’t know you were married before,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “And not just to him, either. There was a whole string of them before Daniel came along.”
His eyes bulged for half a second.
I tried to keep a serious face, but couldn’t quite manage it. I started laughing.
“I’m just joking,” I said.
He smiled a forced smile, and then laughed nervously.
He sure was uptight.
I cleared my throat.
“Listen, I’m glad you found me too, because I wanted to talk to you about the case,” I said.
“I haven’t gotten any concrete leads on it yet,” he said. “There’s some video footage from one of the downtown security cameras of the perp busting your car up, but other than that, there’s not a lot to go on.”
I shook my head.
“I wanted to talk to you about the photos,” I said. “I think I know who the kid is.”
His eyebrows drew together in a serious expression.
“You do?” he said.
His body suddenly shook with a wave of visible shivers. We’d been sitting too long, and the cold air was seeping into the car.
He zipped his uniform jacket up higher.
I glanced at Daniel’s house.
“Why don’t you come on in?” I said. “I’ll tell you about it over supper. How’s that?”
I didn’t know why I was suddenly being so nice to Deputy Owen McHale.
But there was something about him, I don’t know. He sometimes reminded me of a sad, moody little puppy, as silly as that sounded.
Plus, it would be nice to have some company, as long as Evan was still prowling the streets.
“Naw, I just finished a double shift and was on my way home to crash,” he said. “And I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“You wouldn’t be,” I said. “I was going to fix myself something to eat anyway.”
He thought about it for a second.
“Well…” he said, drawing the syllable out. “I don’t have a damn thing to eat at home. And with the power being out, it’s probably cold as hell in my apartment right now.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said, getting out of the car.
He turned the car’s headlights off and followed me inside.
“I just hope you’re not a picky eater,” I said. “I’m not sure what Daniel’s got in his cupboard these days either.”
“What’s good enough for Sheriff Brightman is good enough for me,” he said.
Chapter 34
I was up in the attic, a flashlight in my mouth, trying to organize a massive pile of boxes that had probably been sitting in the Brightman household’s storage for decades.
The inviting, homey smell of tomato stew wafted up from the living room downstairs.
I had had my doubts about pulling something together from Daniel’s meager pantry and fridge selection, and with the blackout, there wasn’t much hope of cooking something. But then I remembered the wood burning stove in the living room. And I remembered how growing up, Warren would sometimes use the stove in our old house to make stews when the power went out during winter storms.
After telling Owen about the story Sully had told me concerning the missing teen in the photo, I had employed the deputy to keep an eye on the stew while it was simmering. I was taking advantage of the spare time to do what I had initially set out to do on this trip: get some work done on the mess in the attic.
Where we were going to live when we got married was still a big issue between Daniel and me, and it seemed we were no closer to resolving it. But while we were figuring things out, I thought that I might as well start sprucing up Daniel’s house. Whether or not we were going to live there, there would be change coming to the old house. And there were parts of the cabin that seemed like they hadn’t seen the light of day since Daniel was a kid.
I started to consolidate the boxes. I wasn’t planning on throwing anything out. I just wanted to make it look a little tidier. Just in case he had to show the home to potential renters or something like that.
Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for another box off the top of the stack and accidently knocked it off balance. It came crashing down, and I yelped as all of its contents sprayed across the wooden floor.
“Everything all right up there?” Owen yelled up from downstairs.
“Yep! just fine!” I yelled back.
Except that I was making an even bigger mess of the attic.
I started collecting some of the spilled contents of the box. A few faded papers that looked like they were related to the property ownership, some old newspapers that dated back to 1987, a couple of toy trucks, a plastic box of rusted fishing tackle, and a large book.
I placed everything but the leather book back in the box and then took a seat on the cold attic floor.
I grabbed the brown photo album, and held the flashlight over it.
Jared and Daniel: Outdoorsmen of the Wild Woodswas scrawled in block letters across the front that looked like a little kid’s writing.
I opened the faded album.
I started grinning.
The first photo was of two boys dressed in camouflage, facing each other and crossing their fishing poles like they were swords. They both looked at the camera and gritted their teeth like they were engaged in an epic battle of the ages.
I looked at the shorter, younger one, and couldn’t help but laugh at the crooked nose and smiling green eyes that I knew so well.
Daniel couldn’t have been older than 10 in these photos.
Both of Daniel’s parents were gone, and he didn’t have much in the way of family, so I had never gotten the chance to see photos like these.
The pictures were pasted in the book unevenly, and I knew that the boys must have made the album together.
As I flipped through it, I found more photos of the two boys fishing, building forts in the woods, skipping stones across the lake and making slingshots.
Looking at the pictures, I could almost smell the fresh pine of the woods in the summer. Earthy and warm and full of promise.
It must have been a magical summer.
I got to the last page, a photo of both of them, their arms over each other’s shoulders. Bunny ears over both of their heads, grinning at the camera.
Happy as two clams.
I looked at Jared, Daniel’s brother. He had those same green eyes that Daniel did, but his nose was different and he had a sharper chin. Even though it was just a photo and he was just a kid, I could tell he had an infectious smile. I imagined he had been one of those special souls who could brighten up any room he walked into.
My heart swelled with sorrow as I looked at him.
Poor Jared.
I never got a chance to know him. He died in his 20s after getting shot by a robber holding up a
convenience store. It wrecked Daniel, and he’d spent years trying to move past his brother’s death.
I wished that I had gotten a chance to know Jared, to see that smile of his in real life.
But I would never know him beyond what few photographs were left of him.
I looked at both of the boy’s expressions again. They were so full of hope for the future, of the full lives they both planned on living, not knowing what sadness awaited them around the corner.
The attic door suddenly opened. Owen peeked his head in and shined a flashlight in my direction.
“I think the stew’s ready,” he said.
I closed the album and stood up, tucking it under my arm.
“I’ll be right down.”
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, shining the light in my face.
I sniveled.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s just the dust up here.”
I started climbing down the ladder, gripping the photo album as I descended.
Poor Jared, I thought.
Poor Daniel.
Chapter 35
“So how long were you married for?” Owen asked.
I didn’t know why, but the question took me by surprise. It was abrupt. We had just been talking about his grandmother and how she used to make an Irish cabbage stew every Sunday that all the kids in his family loathed.
And then, all of a sudden, we were talking about my failed marriage.
I grabbed his empty bowl and stacked it on top of mine. He poured the last of the wine bottle into his glass.
Maybe his abruptness had something to do with the amount of wine he’d had.
“We were married too long,” I said.
“What happened?” he asked.
I gave him a sharp look.
“I mean, if that’s not too personal,” he said.
I took the bowls to the kitchen and then sat back down at the table.
“I’m surprised you don’t already know this story,” I said. “My marriage was just about all anyone in this town could talk about for a while.”
“Well, I haven’t heard it,” he said, taking a drink from his glass.
I let out a long sigh.
“We were high school sweethearts,” I said. “And then one day, I found out that he was having an affair with a friend of mine. And that’s pretty much where the story ends.”