Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2)

by M. Z. Andrews

  “Well, I don’t generally participate in the discussion. And my place is more than a coffee shop. It’s an antique shop. We sell home decor, rustic odds and ends—”

  “Oh, yeah, I know. I wasn’t saying it was just a coffee shop. I just meant I know what goes on at those kinds of places, and so I just assumed—”

  “Because people are real good at making assumptions?” she asked.

  He stopped talking and stared at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. A slow grin spread across his face. “Riiiiight,” he drawled. “Alright. You got me. We all make assumptions, I guess. I guess I’ll be apologizing for a third time tonight. I’m sorry for assuming things about you. I guess I don’t know you at all.”

  That made Evanee smile. She wagged her finger at him lightly. “You’re right. You don’t know anything about me. I think you’re onto something.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. I’m sorry for spitting on your boot the other day. I suppose that got us off on the wrong foot right from the start, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it sort of did,” she agreed.

  Lane nodded as he drove. “You know what? Now that we’re doing this. I’m just gonna be a man and own up to everything I’ve done wrong since the first day I ever laid eyes on you. How’s that?”

  Evanee chuckled. “Okay?”

  “It was a couple of years ago now. I saw you over at Van’s General picking up a few things. You didn’t even give me the time of day. You had your nose so far up in the air, I thought right then that you were a snooty old witch.”

  As Lane chuckled at his own memory, the smile disappeared from Evanee’s face.

  He took one look at her downturned smile and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, no, no. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to say I think you’re a snooty old witch now. I was just wantin’ to apologize for thinking that back then.”

  Evanee’s arms folded across her chest. “You’re not very good at this apologizing thing, are you?”

  He winced. “No, not so good. You gotta understand, it’s just me and Dad all day. I don’t usually have the need to do any apologizing. Except that one time I ran over his foot with the tractor. That was all my fault. I didn’t even know he was back there. But I had to do an awful lot of apologizing that night.”

  She stared at him hard through squinty eyes.

  Lane pulled over in front of a big white house with black shutters and a second-story wraparound porch. He shut off the engine and threw his arms up in the air.

  “Uhhh, I’m horrible at this. Just know I don’t mean any harm, and I’m sorry for anything I said or did to offend. And I hope you know that I appreciate you wanting to help clear my dad’s name.”

  Evanee got out of the truck then. She waited on the sidewalk until he got out of the vehicle and joined her. “Listen, Lane. I want to be upfront here. I want to help you, but this isn’t necessarily about clearing your dad’s name.”

  Lane’s eyes narrowed. “But I thought—”

  “I want to clear your dad’s name if he’s innocent. I haven’t formed an opinion on that yet. We just don’t have enough facts for me to do that. I know you think he’s innocent, and that’s fine. But if you’re going to go in there with me, I think you need to realize that this isn’t about clearing him. It’s about bringing the truth to light—whatever it is. So if it means clearing his name, then I’ll do that, and when I do, I’ll tell everyone that will listen that he wasn’t the guy. If that means incriminating your father, then I’m sorry, Lane, but that’s my mission.”

  Lane frowned. “Well, I suppose I only want to know the truth too.”

  “Alright, then, we should be on the same page. Are you going to be able to handle it if finding out the truth means sending your dad to jail?”

  “It’s not going to mean that. I have faith in him.”

  “I’m glad, but if you see with your own eyes that he did it, will you be able to handle it? Will you do what needs to be done?”

  Lane scratched behind his ear as he gave that a second to sink in. Finally he looked at Evanee. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

  She nodded at him. “Good. Now let’s go.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, trailing only a step behind her.

  Evanee climbed the front steps and rang the bell as Lane stood behind her, quietly waiting. Finally, the door opened and a stocky man with a shiny bald head looked back at them.

  “Yes, I made an appointment to speak with Maddie Carlson.”

  The man nodded. “Mrs. Carlson’s in the den. Right this way.”

  20

  Seated behind her desk, Madelyn “Maddie” Carlson stared back at Evanee and Lane, seated in the two chairs directly across from her. Maddie’s once-jet-black hair, now silver, was piled on top of her head in a loose bun with a pair of butterfly clips flanking it. She had blunt-cut bangs framing her face and wore a pair of black cat-eye glasses bejeweled with rhinestones and attached to her neck with a pearl necklace. She wore a sheer white blouse with black polka dots and a black skirt with heels.

  Evanee couldn’t help but marvel at how put-together the woman was for a Sunday evening. “Thank you for making time to see us, Mrs. Carlson. I hope we’re not interrupting your plans for the evening.”

  “No, not at all,” she said curtly before pulling out a long rectangular leather binder from her top desk drawer. She opened it to expose long green check blanks, perforated three down. “What charity are you working with, and how much are you seeking?”

  Evanee glanced over at Lane. She hadn’t told the woman’s assistant on the phone why she’d made the appointment. She’d only asked to speak with Irma Cromwell’s daughter, Maddie Carlson. When pressed for a more specific reason, she’d simply said it was a matter of business and she’d mentioned that she owned Woods Rustic Wares.

  Trying to communicate nonverbally with Evanee, Lane tipped his head towards Maddie as if to say, Go on.

  Evanee sighed. “Mrs. Carlson, my name is Evanee Woods. I own Woods Rustic Wares. Are you familiar with my shop?”

  Maddie had to give it a moment of thought and then she nodded. “Yes, in the old fire hall building.”

  “Yes. And this is Lane Dawson. He’s the son of Steve Dawson and the late Rachel Dawson.”

  Maddie could barely swing her eyes over in Lane’s direction. She gave him the tiniest of glances and then swung her eyes back over to rest on Evanee. “Yes. Hello,” she said crisply.

  “Mrs. Carlson, we aren’t here for a donation.” Evanee adjusted her dress in her seat and inhaled a deep breath.

  Maddie looked at her curiously then. “Oh, you aren’t? My assistant said it was a business call.”

  “Well, in a roundabout way, I guess you could say it is a business call. Actually, it’s more of a personal matter.”

  Maddie swallowed hard. Her eyes moved from Evanee to Lane and then just as quickly back to Evanee again. “A personal matter? What type of personal matter?”

  “There’s no great place to start, so I’ll just put it out there. The other day, I was at a flea market in Brattleboro and I came across a dress that Priscilla Pankhurst made for Lane’s mother, Rachel Dawson, thirty-five years ago.”

  Maddie’s face turned ghost white. She swallowed hard. “Mm-hmm?” she murmured.

  “I spoke to Priscilla the other day, and I asked her why the dress still existed. Why it hadn’t burned in the fire that day. Or at least why it hadn’t been damaged. How had it wound up at a flea market?”

  “Did you?” said Maddie, her tone slightly higher now.

  Lane sat quietly, taking in everything. But from the corner of Evanee’s eye, she could see Lane’s jaw tightening and the grip on his thigh growing tighter.

  She pressed on. “Yes. And Priscilla told me the story about the day that Rachel died. She explained how your mother, Irma, stopped over and needed her dress repaired. Do you remember that?”

  Maddie made a face, swishing her lips to the side. Her eyes swung up to the ceiling. “Mmm. Yes
, maybe I remember that a little. It was a very long time ago.”

  “Yes, I know that,” said Evanee, trying not to scare Maddie away just yet. “Anyway, Priscilla explained to me that she told your mother she didn’t have time to fix her dress because she needed to run Rachel’s dress into town so she could get ready for the parade.”

  Maddie worked hard to look unaffected, but it was completely obvious that the little trip down memory lane was difficult for her. Her eyes darted around the room, unable to hold eye contact with Evanee for more than a few seconds, and by now she refused to even look at Lane.

  “Priscilla said that her mother asked you to run the dress over to Rachel. But obviously the dress didn’t get there, because I have it.”

  Maddie lowered her brows. “And you’re sure it was actually Rachel’s dress. I mean, I’m sure it could have been anyone’s dress. Dresses sometimes look alike.”

  Evanee lowered her chin. “Yes, I’m quite sure it was Rachel’s dress. It’s got Priscilla’s label. She said she only made one dress like it, and it was for Rachel.”

  “Mmm.”

  “So, what we’re wondering is, how did that dress make its way to a flea market?”

  Maddie shook her head absently. “Yes, that’s an interesting question.”

  “Do you know how it made it to a flea market?”

  Maddie pouted out her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows. “No, I honestly have no clue how that happened.”

  “Well, then, maybe you can tell us why my mother never got her dress,” said Lane shortly.

  “Why your mother…” Maddie’s words trailed off as she repeated them quietly to herself. “Mmm. Yes, I can see how you might wonder about that now. You know, I really don’t know exactly.”

  “Mrs. Carlson, it was your responsibility that day to deliver the dress,” said Evanee. “Did you deliver the dress to her?”

  Maddie’s hands wrestled each other on top of her desk. “Umm, her dress. Well, let me think now. That was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, please do think,” growled Lane.

  Evanee reached a hand over to squeeze his. They didn’t need him making a scene now. She’d surely clam up tight if he did. “It’s very important, Mrs. Carlson.”

  “Well, I remember having the dress,” she said with a nod, relaying that her memory told her that much.

  “Did you give it to my mother or not? It’s not a hard question,” said Lane through gritted teeth.

  Finally, Maddie sighed. “No, I actually didn’t, now that I think about it. I was about to…”

  “And what stopped you?” asked Evanee curiously.

  “Well, the fire stopped me. I went to deliver it, and imagine my surprise to see the ruckus going on outside of the fire station. The whole place was ablaze. I wasn’t able to deliver it.”

  “So, you’re saying when you got there, the fire had already broken out?” asked Lane.

  Maddie still refused to look at him. Instead she nodded at Evanee. “Yes.”

  “So what did you do with the dress then?” asked Evanee.

  “Well, I believe I was so stunned about the fire that it just rode around in the back of my car for quite a while. And then I think one day it was just gone.”

  “Just gone? Like stolen?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest. My mother had our cars cleaned inside and out at least once a week. I suppose one of the cleaners could have taken the dress inside our house or something. I’m really not sure what became of it. That’s why I was so surprised to hear that you’d found the dress. I hadn’t ever given it any thought.”

  “Mrs. Carlson, why didn’t you tell the police this story?” asked Lane.

  Maddie wrung her hands on her desk. “Well, I don’t know what purpose that might have served. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fire, and I would have had nothing to tell them.”

  “Do you know what time it was that Priscilla gave you the dress to deliver?” asked Evanee.

  “What time it was? Oh, heavens,” sighed Maddie. She closed her checkbook, then leaned back in her chair and fanned herself with the binder. “That was simply ages ago. I barely remember the day, honestly. I couldn’t tell you what time it was when I left if I tried.”

  “It’s alright. Maybe Priscilla will remember,” said Evanee with a shrug.

  Evanee thought she saw a glimmer of concern pass across Maddie’s face when she said that, but whatever she saw was quickly replaced by a look of confidence. “Yes, maybe she will. Well, if that’s all. I do have a family dinner to get to this evening. I’ll have Eldon show you out.” She stood up.

  But both Evanee and Lane remained seated.

  “Mrs. Carlson, do you know anyone that might’ve been responsible for the fire that killed Rachel Dawson?”

  Maddie took off her glasses and let them hang around her neck. She fingered the tiny pearls gingerly. “I haven’t the faintest idea about that.”

  “Today would have been my mother’s sixtieth birthday,” said Lane. His tone was soft now, like the emotion of the day was getting to him.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry…”

  “And today is also the thirty-fifth anniversary of her death.”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Mrs. Carlson, did you have anything to do with my mother’s death?”

  Her amber eyes widened. “With Rachel’s death? I didn’t, I wouldn’t…” She shook her head. “I had no reason to…”

  “You’re sure there isn’t anything that you’re not telling us?” Evanee asked.

  “I’ve told you everything,” said Maddie. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”

  Evanee stood up then. She didn’t know what other questions to ask. Maddie’s story seemed to fit with what Priscilla had said. Perhaps she’d gone over there and the fire was already blazing.

  “Thank you for your help, Maddie. I hope we haven’t held you up past your dinner.”

  “Not at all. The family promised to wait for me. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

  Evanee glanced down at Lane. He seemed rooted to his seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder gingerly. “Time to go, Lane.”

  He was slow to stand up, making it look as if he had more questions to ask her, but they’d run out of time. “Thank you for your time,” he muttered.

  Maddie gave him a tight smile, but her eyes didn’t meet his. “Yes, of course.” She motioned to the man standing in the hallway. “Eldon, please show Ms. Woods and Mr. Dawson to the door.”

  Lane gritted his teeth as they walked down the sidewalk towards his truck. “She’s hiding something, I can tell.”

  Evanee’s head bobbed. “Yes, I must admit, she did seem a little nervous. Perhaps there’s more to the story that we aren’t hearing.”

  “I guarantee you there’s more there.” He opened Evanee’s door for her, and she climbed into the truck. He barely waited for her to pull her feet in before he slammed the door shut and walked around to the other side. Climbing in next to her, he started the truck’s engine. “We need a timeline of events.”

  “Yeah, we do.” She watched him carefully. His jaw was still tight and his brow lowered. He was clearly tense. “Listen, Lane. We’re going to figure this all out. But you can’t get all worked up every time you hear a new detail. We have to keep our heads.”

  Lane glanced over at her. His vacant stare told her that level-headed Lane Dawson wasn’t in right now. The facts about his mother’s death were haunting him. She only hoped she could give him the peace he needed.

  “Lane. Did you hear me?”

  “What?”

  “Calm down. You’re not going to be helpful to me if you’re all worked up.”

  “I am calm, but we need to put together a timeline of events,” he repeated.

  “I agree with you. We’ll do that. Alright?”

  He was quiet for a second as he pulled away from the curb. “You got anything going on tonight?”

  Evanee lifted a shoulder. “I just need to feed my cat
s.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to palm her forehead. Feed my cats? What kind of lame thing was that to say?

  His head turned and he shot her a half-smile. “Think they can wait to be fed an hour or two?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m having dinner over at my grandparents’ house. I wondered if maybe you’d wanna join me. I thought maybe we could put together a timeline of that day.”

  Evanee leaned back in her seat. She couldn’t believe the man who had come to her house just a couple of days ago ranting at her was now inviting her to eat supper with him and his grandparents.

  She cocked a brow. “You want me to have supper with you over at your grandparents’ house? Don’t you think they might mind you bringing a guest?”

  A broad smile finally hit Lane’s face. “Are you kidding? They’ll be stoked. They’ve been trying to get me to bring a girl to dinner for years.”

  “Oh!” Evanee’s eyes widened.

  Lane’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, hell.” He waved a hand in the air. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Like that?”

  “Like it sounded. You know. I didn’t mean it like a date or anything. I just meant like, we could do a little homework.”

  “Oh.” Evanee felt a strange combination of both relief and disappointment. She nodded. “Yeah, no, I understood what you meant.”

  “Yeah?”

  Evanee nodded, her lip out. “Sure. No, I have time to do some research. If you’re sure they won’t mind me coming over.”

  Lane shot her a half-smile. “No. They won’t mind a bit.”

  21