Failure is Fatal

by Lesley A. Diehl

  Guy descended the stairs with his overnight bag in his hand. “I just heard a weather forecast. The next storm is due in a few hours, so I’ve got to get going as soon as we eat.”

  “You’ll be going nowhere, boyo, if that drive isn’t cleared. You can’t get your car out. I’d help you, but…” Der said.

  “But he has his good clothes on. I’ll help you after we eat,” I said.

  “I thought the next snowfall was predicted for tomorrow.” Der seated himself at the table, and I placed a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him. He didn’t refuse it.

  “It was, but they just updated the forecast, and it’s coming in earlier,” Guy said.

  I waited for Der to fill me in on his visit to the fraternity, but he said nothing, simply chewed his food.

  “If you want to survive the day, you’d better tell her how your visit to the fraternity went. As for me, I’m leaving soon, so I’ll be safely out of range,” Guy said.

  “Tell you what, even though I am in my Sunday best, I’ll lend a hand with the drive.”

  “I’ve only got two snow shovels,” I said.

  “We’ll take turns,” Guy said. He seemed as eager to hear what Der had to say as I was.

  We all bundled up and trooped out the door into the snow, Sam trailing behind, using her nose as a snowplow as she searched out sticks buried beneath the snow’s surface.

  Der leaned against the garage doors, accommodating Sam’s need for attention and play by throwing the sticks into the yard for her to retrieve and bring back. Guy and I plied our backs to the heavy snow that almost buried Guy’s car. Occasional glances skyward confirmed that we were about to be dumped on yet again.

  “The visit this morning to the frat house was disappointing.”

  “I warned you no one would be up and sober enough to talk to you.” I threw a shovel of snow to one side.

  “Hey, watch it. I’m right beside you.” Guy was shaking off most of the snow that I had thrown on him.

  “No, that’s not it. I managed to rouse several guys, but they informed me that the president and most of the members were doing a weekend in New York City and wouldn’t be back until late Sunday night,” Der said.

  “No doubt a cultural adventure taking in the opera, dinner at the Four Seasons and several plays.” I leaned on my shovel for a breather.

  “I decided not to ask them any questions, so I merely left my card and told them I’d be in touch. I saw one of them drop the card on the coffee table, which was covered with overflowing ashtrays and empty beer bottles. With the addition of what is sure to accumulate this evening, I doubt that the card will be unearthed before graduation in the spring.” Der grabbed the shovel from me and put his weight into the project.

  I opened Guy’s car door and extracted his brush and window scraper and began to clean off the car. Within a few minutes the drive was cleared, and we heard the snow plow as it rounded the corner down the road.

  “Oh, great, now we need to clear the entrance again. I thought it already made one pass through here,” I said. The huge plow ran by throwing its load of slush, rocks and snow onto the newly cleared drive. Farther down the road we could see the plow swerve around Der’s car leaving it stranded behind a barrier of snow.

  “I guess I’ll have to dig it out. You get the driveway, I’ll get my car. When they’re both clear, I’ll pull in beside you.” Der headed down the road to tackle the pile of dirty snow surrounding the police cruiser.

  With no shovel to help, I offered to make some hot chocolate.

  “Try not to burn the milk,” said Der as I headed for the house.

  “What milk? It’s instant. Who would trust me with heating milk?”

  Having successfully boiled the water for the hot chocolate, I stuck my head out the door to see if Guy and Der were finished with the drive. They were working on the walkway from the garage to the house. Soon we were all seated before the woodstove. Hot chocolate in our hands, we enjoyed the heat of the fire while coats, gloves and hats dripped melted snow in the kitchen, and Sam exuded her usual wet doggy aroma.

  “I hate to end this idyllic scene, but I have to hit the road,” Guy said.

  The clouds were thickening, and the wind began to pick up. I was worried about his trip back, although I knew most of it would be on interstate, which would be clear by now.

  “I’m spending next weekend with the kids. Why don’t you come up the following weekend?”

  I hesitated, and Guy seemed to know what I was thinking.

  “If the weather is okay,” he said. He knew how I hated to drive on snow-covered roads.

  “If you got a better car, you might not find winter driving such a terror. On the other hand, it’s probably just as well you find winter driving such a terror. It’s safer for the rest of us that you stay off the roads. I’ve seen how you drive when the pavement is dry. A little confidence on your part with the appropriate vehicle might convince me to give up my license,” Der said.

  “I do worry about taking my car all that way. I’m not sure it’s up to anything more than commutes between here and campus. But I guess I could take the bus. But if I take the bus, I can’t bring Sam.”

  “I can look after Sam,” Der said.

  “So that’s it then. One way or the other I’ll see you weekend after next. We’ll take the kids to a movie or something on Saturday afternoon.”

  I loved being with Guy’s kids. Guy’s four kids, two girls from his ex-wife’s first marriage and a boy and a girl that were Guy and his wife’s, were great fun, although a real handful. The four of them with Sam were easier to entertain here on the lake than in the city where Guy lived in Canada, but both of us knew it wasn’t such a good idea to be dragging them away from their home and friends too often. Guy’s and my long-distance relationship had its problems, which Guy thought could be solved by our getting married. The logic of how marriage would wipe out several hundred miles of distance between us as well as change the responsibility of caring for four children escaped me.

  Guy and Der shook hands goodbye in the kitchen, and I walked out to the car with Guy.

  “Be careful and call me when you get in.” I looked up into his eyes. I loved those blue eyes. Maybe it was a mistake not to marry him, but marriage wasn’t really the issue from my point of view. It was all logistics and two careers that placed us in very different locations. I’d been here before with my own unsuccessful marriage, and I wasn’t in a hurry to fail again.

  “Meantime, I love you, gal. You’re a real pain in the ass, but I love you anyway.”

  With that he kissed me deeply and for an awfully long time, then slid into the driver’s seat of his car, started the engine, and backed out of the drive.

  “Stay out of trouble,” he yelled out of the window of the car as he shifted into drive and gunned the car forward.

  Trouble? What kind of trouble could I get into, stranded as I was by these terrible roads. Besides, another storm was due, and I didn’t feel comfortable taking my car out if I didn’t have to. That poor old car. Maybe I should trade it in on something more reliable and easier to maneuver on snowy roads. After all, the whole winter was ahead of me. A plan began to formulate itself in my head.

  All I had to do was get Der out of my house.

  Chapter 10

  When I returned to the house, Der was making himself comfortable on the couch, prepared, I believed, to stay for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening hours.

  “I thought I’d hang here for a little while, and then maybe we could go into town to the diner for some supper.”

  “I forgot that I have a deadline on a manuscript, but feel free to sit and watch the fire, or go play with Sam in the yard. She’d love it.”

  “While you’re in your office working? You’d probably feel guilty that I was here with no one to talk to, so you’d feel obligated to entertain me and you wouldn’t do your work. I guess I could catch up on some paperwork in my office. This is a good time to do it with no
one around to bother me.” He grabbed his coat off the hook in the kitchen and started out the door. “Should I stop by later and take you into town for food?”

  “Uh, no thanks. I’m just going to work for a while, grab a sandwich, watch a little television and go to bed early. Maybe you could come by tomorrow, late morning, and we could have coffee. Bring some donuts. And not too early. Better call first.”

  I could tell he was disappointed he couldn’t just relax here for the remainder of the day, and I felt a little guilty. But the offer of coffee and donuts together tomorrow morning seemed to perk him right up.

  “Great,” he said. “Maybe about ten or so. You want chocolate-filled ones?”

  “Any kind at all.” How much more time would we have to kill talking about donut flavors? Hmmmm. Not interested in chocolate, a sign that I was too preoccupied with my plan for identifying the killer to focus on food. Maybe I’d be able to get into that size eight dress for Christmas.

  He waved in response and left.

  Finally. I picked up the phone book and turned to the yellow pages. I was skimming through the automotive section when the kitchen door opened and Der stuck his head in.

  “Murphy?”

  “God, you scared me. What are you doing back? And why are you yelling?” I asked, less than kindly, attempting to hide the telephone book behind my back.

  “I thought you’d be in the office working, so I wanted you to hear me. Why aren’t you working?” Suspicion swept across his features.

  “I, oh, uh, I, see, I was looking up the number of Office Max to see if they were open tomorrow. I may have to run off some copies there.”

  “Why not just wait until Monday and do it at school. It’s free there, isn’t it?”

  “Uhm, but I want to send this off early Monday morning. It’s just easier to do it this way.”

  “Okay,” he said, but his tone of voice told me he wasn’t convinced.

  “When you and Guy were shoveling the drive, did he ask you to keep an eye on me?”

  Shifting from defensive to offensive had the desired effect.

  “What? Oh, gosh no. I just wondered how you felt about croissants, instead of donuts. For tomorrow, I mean.”

  I decided to hurry along our conversation by making nice.

  “Haven’t had those for a long time. Bring some butter and preserves for them then. I don’t have anything here.” I offered him an innocent smile, a facial expression I never manage very well.

  A doubt of suspicion crossed his face again. I needed to watch trying those smiles. Der knew me too well to believe me innocent of anything. And I suspected my version of guileless came out more nearly like a confession to a capital crime.

  “Now get out of here, Der. I’ve got work to do, and you’re really aggravating me.”

  That did it. All doubts were wiped from his face, and he smiled at me.

  “Okay. You know I was worried about you there for a while. You seemed kind of distracted or down. Glad to see you’re your old self.”

  I threw the phone book in his direction, and he fled laughing. I sighed with relief as I heard his car accelerate down the road.

  Several phone calls let me know that a few car dealers stayed open until five, but they warned, I’d better get in there as soon as possible since they might close early today because of the snow. I grabbed my coat. I pulled the car out of the garage, being careful not to sideswipe Guy’s bike. As I got out to close the garage door, I could hear Sam barking in the house.

  “Oh, alright, girl, you can come, too.” I raced to the house to get Sam and snagged her leash off the hook by the door. She jumped into the passenger seat of the car, and we were on our way.

  Snow began to fall again, and I tensed up on my drive into town, hoping that the roads would remain dry enough not to create problems for navigation. I was always a nervous driver on snowy roads.

  Less than an hour later I picked out a black SUV with a fancy stereo system and a sunroof, just the ticket for winter weather. Sam seemed delighted with it. With the seats down in the back, she had plenty of room to turn around. I convinced the salesperson that this was the perfect weather in which to try out the car for more than a test drive. He agreed to let me take it home overnight, although I found him less than happy about all the doggy hair Sam was depositing on the cloth seats. I left my beat-up little car as hostage in the lot and drove off the property with more confidence than I felt.

  By the time I was swinging through the streets of the town, enough snow had accumulated on the pavement to offer trouble to my old car, but the SUV handled with a sure footedness I found reassuring. I began to understand why people chose these things for upstate New York. I knew the real test of this car was the long hill leading up to campus. The vehicle took it without hesitation, wheel spinning or swerving. I pulled into the unplowed parking lot behind my building and merely backed out again. The SUV handled the unplowed snow as if we were on dry pavement.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed, and Sam added her praises with a series of barks and a howl. Down the snow-packed hill back into town proved to be the same effortless, nonskid drive. I stopped at the market on the way home and picked up a few supplies, Sam reminding me with a friendly lick on the ear that she needed dog food. The snow began in earnest as I turned onto the lake road. In order not to have to clean off the car, I pulled it carefully into the garage. To my amazement it fit, although I couldn’t open the door on the side where Guy’s bike was parked. No problem, I’d simply get out on the passenger’s side, or through the rear hatch, if necessary. The real challenge for this buggy would be later tonight.

  I fed Sam, watched a little TV, ate a peanut butter sandwich and peered through the windows at the falling snow. The phone rang about seven. It was Guy saying he made it home, and that the drive wasn’t too bad. We talked briefly and agreed to be in touch during the week. I had just hung up when it rang again. This time Der was calling to see how the work on the manuscript was coming. I convinced him I was making progress, but was getting tired.

  “I’ll be ready for bed in an hour.” I made a yawning sound into the receiver. We hung up, confirming the croissant/donut meeting in the morning. Finally, things were clear for the rest of the evening.

  I thought of my friend, Annie, and wished she were here. It’s so much easier with women friends. You simply tell them what you’re up to, they tell you it’s stupid, and then they join you in whatever ridiculous thing you’re doing. With men, because they’re so protective, you have to lie about your plans. men just have no spirit of adventure. When they think something is stupid, they don’t want to do it, and they usually think it’s stupid if a woman thought it up.

  I looked up the number of the fraternity in the telephone directory and dialed it. It rang over ten times with no answer. That wasn’t a guarantee no one was at home, but I would bet a six-pack of Coors Light that the frat guys who remained in town this weekend were down at the bars hoping they would get snowed in for the night.

  It took me longer to get into town than I thought it would; the snow dropped in sheets of white, and the roads, plowed earlier in the evening, were once again totally covered. The SUV didn’t falter, but swept through the mounds of blowing snow easily. I felt snug and warm, cocooned in my sure-footed vehicle with white powder all around me. I listened to the silence of the snow as it fell in large wet flakes, covering my tracks and making me feel as if I were floating above the road. It was an eerie but magical feeling. It was as if I inhabited a world where no one else existed. It was mine alone.

  By the time I reached the frat house, it was after eleven o’clock, a time I knew any remaining guys would be well on their way to the bars and not ready to return home for several hours. There were lights on downstairs, but no sign of anyone moving about. The upstairs was dark. I parked across the street and watched the house for several minutes to ensure that no one came in or went out. The street was deserted; most people were staying in tonight, watching television or movies they r
ented. Those were choices I might have made, but instead I was about to snoop through guys’ desks, closets and underwear drawers.

  I turned off the overhead light in the vehicle so that when I opened the door, I was in darkness. Before I left home, I debated what to wear for the evening. Usually night work demanded black, but with all the snow, white seemed more appropriate. On the other hand, I was going into a dark house, so I wondered if black wasn’t more reasonable. Confused and without the official snooper’s dress-for-success manual, I simply wore the old army coat of Guy’s because it was warm. Paired with fleece-lined winter boots and some plaid wool pants, I felt I had all the color choices covered.

  I assured myself that I wasn’t breaking and entering. Well, at least I was sure I wasn’t breaking, if the door was open. And who would lock the door to a fraternity house where all the stuff in there was already stolen from other places—traffic signs, neon beer ads, tests taken from professors’ offices, all the precious cargo that went with being a frat guy?

  I walked up the front steps, certain that the tracks I left would be snow-covered in a matter of minutes. I reached out my mittened hand to grasp the doorknob, then drew it back quickly. Did I really want to do this? I wasn’t even certain what I was looking for in the house. Oh, what the hell! There was nothing to lose by taking a quick peek around inside, was there? A voice in my head that sounded a lot like Der’s told me to get back in my car and go home. That did it. I grabbed the knob and turned it. The door opened easily and swung inward without a sound. I was in!

  I took a deep breath and looked around. Maybe I was a little nervous, but then I always got a bit tense when I was about to do something new and, admit it, reckless. A chocolate bar might have lowered my anxiety a bit, but a search of the jacket’s pockets revealed only a used tissue and my flashlight. I stood in a hallway dimly lit by an overhead chandelier with all but one bulb burned out. The stairs to the second floor were in front of me.