by Adele Huxley
I weaved a path around the kitchen as I got things ready for breakfast. My slippers swished across the stones as the coffeepot percolated with the last of the water. While looking for the pancake mix, I poked through the bottom cabinet where we also stored our liquor. I noticed a missing bottle of whiskey and a substantially lighter bottle of vodka. Dammit, Dani. While I knew we had to face the issues of the day soon enough, I hoped I could at least have a quiet breakfast with Bryan first.
“Shit,” Bryan hissed. He stared at a spot in front of him, his eyebrows falling into a straight line. So much for the quiet breakfast.
I was unaccustomed to hearing him curse anymore. “What’s up?”
His eyes flicked up to mine, worry creasing his features. “Everything is okay. No one got hurt.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What happened?” I asked as he continued to listen to messages. I feared the worst when the color rose in his cheeks. Bryan was pissed off.
He shook his head and set the phone on the table before looking back up. “I know you, Liz. Before you freak out, he’s okay,” he began.
I set the carton of eggs down on the counter, as I felt unbalanced. “Who? What happened? The fact you have to preface it with…”
“The house on Oak Drive burned down last night, but Walt got out in time.”
My hand flew to my mouth, covering my gasp. “He didn’t get hurt?” Bryan gave me a sideways look and I shook my head. “Right. Sorry. You already said that. What the hell happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Went up in the middle of the night, apparently. That was Dylan. He knows Walt doesn’t have any next-of-kin nearby so…”
“Why didn’t they call?” My voice was almost a shout. I squeezed my eyes shut, sending a silent prayer up to whoever might be listening. A serial arsonist in Tellure Hollow… it didn’t feel real.
“They did, several times. I had my phone on vibrate and just didn’t hear it.”
I braced myself against the counter as I shook my head. “Two buildings in one night? What the hell is wrong with this guy?” I couldn’t believe it. “Maybe he was at the festival last night, watching us,” I mumbled, mostly to myself. “Jesus, Walt. That poor man… Oh God, our house.”
We stood in silence, both wrestling with a world flipped upside down. As the snow floated down from the sky, harmless yet dangerous, a maniac was on the loose in Tellure Hollow, hell-bent on burning it all to the ground.
Bryan could see my discomfort and came around the counter to hug me. I pressed my face against his chest, breathing his scent deep. Like so many times before, I found a little safe place wrapped in his arms, the calm amid the crazy. He kissed the side of my head and pulled away.
“I have a few calls to make.”
He didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it. But it was becoming more and more apparent these fires had something to do with us.
Twenty minutes later, I heard Dani stirring in her room upstairs. How I wished she were six instead of sixteen going on seventeen. Her favorite hobbies seemed to be spending time in the bedroom, skulking around the house, and generally making herself miserable to be around. All my attempts at connecting with her had been met with a brick wall. I mean, I understood the girl was angry and upset, but did she have to be so damn rude?
I was beginning to think you needed to have a maternal bond with a teenager in order to spend time with them, for more their sake than yours. That connection, that instinct that makes you lift burning cars and dive in front of trains, also prevents you from killing the little shits. I had no such bond with Dani.
“Breaking news out of Denver. The body of a young woman has been recovered. The remains are believed to be of 18-year-old Natalie Jones, reported missing nearly a week ago. Officers found the remains this morning, dismembered and scattered in garbage bags on the shores of the Colorado River.”
The news graphic that popped up on the television grabbed my attention by the throat. The Rocky Mountain Killer. I carefully turned up the volume, aware Bryan was still in the other room. He’d flip out if he knew I was watching this.
“Police are still searching for one other missing woman, Trisha Wilkenson, though hopes are dwindling. While still reluctant to make any formal declarations, an unnamed source close to the investigations told me many are already talking about a possible serial killer.”
Jack gummed my finger while I remained glued to the coverage. I wondered if the world had always been this horrible and I had just lived blissfully unaware. I shifted Jack in my lap, bouncing him a little on my knee as I fixated on the screen. This couldn’t be happening in our tiny corner of the world. Up until about a year ago, gruesome news barely registered on my radar. Shitty stuff happened everywhere, after all. But since giving birth to Jack, every crime was something I imagined happening to my son. Every child was my child. It takes becoming a parent to see everyone, even adults, as someone else’s kid.
“Is there any special significance in declaring these murders as those of a serial killer?” the anchor asked.
“One is public perception. Experts say there are as many as fifty serial killers active in the United States each year. The second distinction is the involvement of federal law enforcement. At the moment, only local and state police departments have been working on these cases, but the FBI may be called in.”
“That’s lovely,” a voice said from behind.
I jumped, the remote control clattering to the counter. “Holy shit,” I cursed as I spun to face Dani. Jack laughed and threw his toy on the table, thinking it was a game. I knew the day would come when he’d parrot my language as well as my actions.
Her eyebrow arched in judgment at my reaction and I instantly felt foolish. “A serial killer, huh? Exciting. Maybe Santa’s finally snapped.”
Even though we hadn’t been able to connect, I felt like I knew her well. She kept people at a distance and practically couldn’t speak unless it was dripping with sarcasm or an attempt to shock them. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up over her head. Two long strands of blonde hair fell on either side of her slender face.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I said as I recovered the remote and turned off the TV. “That’s all over in Denver. Do you want some breakfast? I made bacon and…”
“Just coffee.”
“Are you sure? I could make you some toast or I think we have waffles in the freezer,” I offered.
She leveled a look at me that said, Are you fucking deaf? You’re really going to make me repeat myself? “Just coffee.” It was still strange to see eyes so similar to Bryan’s in another face, only these beautiful hazels were cold and angry.
I pushed myself up to standing, biting back my own snarky comment. “Milk and sugar, right?”
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, settling in beside Jack. As grumpy and moody a teenager as she was, she and Jack had taken an instant liking to one another. The rare times I saw her smile was when they played together. I set everything in front of her while she waved a rattle in front of his face.
“So who is this serial killer going after? Hookers? Drug dealers?” she asked as she spooned two heaping piles of sugar into her cup. “You’re so screwed,” she grinned.
Sensing a chance at conversation, I leaned forward on the table. “Actually, he seems to target girls with juvenile records for some reason.”
“Oh yeah? Is that your attempt at scaring me straight?” she quipped. Her spoon clanked against the side of the mug as she stirred in the milk. “You could just tell me Santa isn’t coming unless I act like a good girl,” she chuckled.
No matter how much she tried to get a rise out of me, I refused to take the bait. “It’s true. He’s going after girls who have a criminal record and are all between the ages of eighteen and twenty.”
She flashed me a shark’s smile as she lifted the mug to her lips. “Guess you don’t have anything to worry about then, huh? Aged out of his demographic. Can’t be every man�
��s type.”
“Guess not,” I shrugged, ignoring the jab at my looks. “All we have to worry about up here is a serial arsonist, apparently. Speaking of being a good girl, how’s the head feeling this morning?”
My resolve to rise above her taunting cracked. I wanted to impress on her, gently or otherwise, that all things considered, she had a pretty damn good life. Just as I was about to say something I’d probably regret, Bryan returned. I’m not sure, but I think she knew she was breaking me down.
“Morning, Dani,” he blurted before turning to me. “Right. Could you do me a favor and call Margie Klingsman?”
“What about?”
Bryan glanced to his cousin who was staring into her cup of coffee like a fortune teller with a crystal ball. I followed him down the hall a few steps and he dropped his voice. “Apparently a girl went missing last night, but we don’t know anything else. Cops aren’t saying anything and…”
The pit in my stomach turned to stone. “Margie’ll know. Sure.”
Bryan brushed my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “You gotta believe this has nothing to do with us,” he said. Not for the first time, I wondered if he could read my mind.
Taking a page from Dani’s book of deflection, I rolled my eyes. “How boring would that be?”
It seemed like every light in the house was on, the TV at full volume, both Bryan and Liz separately pacing the floor talking on their phones. A thick heavy snow was coming down outside, fat flakes quickly building up. There was a lot more snow out there than I’d originally thought looking down from the second floor. We had easily gotten three feet overnight. A part of me wanted to go running around outside like I did when I was younger. We took so many family trips to Tellure Hollow and it was the snow I remembered the most. Makes sense, though, as a California native. My pride and my hangover kept me firmly planted inside.
“Okay, okay. We need to know what the options are,” Bryan said as he walked past me. He gave me a quick nod, his expression tense. “How much time are we looking at?” he asked as he rounded the corner back to his office.
“I seriously doubt the two are related,” Liz said into her phone as she leaned on the kitchen counter. She also wore a worried expression.
Still half asleep, I poured myself a second cup of coffee, gave Jack a little bloop on the nose as I walked past, and settled onto the sofa. After a couple commercials, the weatherman came on.
“Well folks, we have a lot to catch you up on. This storm system is shaping up to be something for the record books,” he said excitedly. He brought up a radar map, gesturing to a large swath of green. I tried to locate Tellure Hollow from memory, but only knew we were west of Denver. “Overnight, this system has stalled directly over this area.” He pointed to a big chunk of Colorado. “We expect this pattern to stay in place for at least two, possibly three days.”
I heard Liz say goodbye only to pick up another call straightaway. She stuttered and stumbled over her words, attempting to reassure the frantic gossip on the other end. I leaned forward on my elbows so I could better hear the TV.
“Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” the weatherman said with an expression that said otherwise, “but these are the new storm totals we’re looking at. As you can see, most areas will deal with moderate to heavy snowfall. These areas here and east will see two to four feet by Christmas. But this area here, in the dark purple, well…” he said as he faced the camera directly with a faint shrug. “In these areas, all bets are off. Now historically…”
My attention pulled away when Liz called out my name. “Hey, sorry about all this,” she said, waving around the room. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat? I made cinnamon rolls if you want one.”
“With frosting?”
“Loads. Dripping with frosting.”
Fine, I’ll let the woman feed me if there are cinnamon buns involved. I pushed myself from the sofa and padded my way to the kitchen, grabbing a seat at the counter. “So serial killer, mad arsonist, and apparently the snow apocalypse is coming straight for us now. Anything else we need to worry about? Rabid, super-intelligent deer?”
Liz ran her fingers through her hair in a gesture of practiced worry. She let out a sigh before plating up a giant pastry. “Bryan’s dealing with the storm, while I’m handling a special kind of crisis.” She looked at me as if she didn’t know if she wanted to continue.
“Did the local zumba club run into a spandex shortage?” I snickered.
“Not quite,” she said as she placed both hands on the counter and hung her head low. Her long, dark hair swept the counter. “How drunk were you last night? Do you remember…”
“I remember all of it… unfortunately,” I added. My cheeks flushed a little despite my outwardly cool demeanor. I still felt horrible about messing up the ceremony and wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring myself to yet.
“Well, there were three fires last night and on top of it, a girl’s gone missing.”
I stopped chewing for a second, a drop of icing falling from my lip. “No shit? Do they think it’s…”
“We have no idea,” Liz revealed. “Everyone is panicking. That’s nearly twenty buildings in the last two months and if someone else dies…”
“Then he’s not just an arsonist.” I tore another piece off of the warm cinnamon bun and popped it into my mouth. “Do you think it’s someone local doing this?”
“No,” Liz said, shaking her head. “At least, I hope not. I don’t think this town could bounce back from something like that. The girl that’s gone missing is vacationing here with her family. They’re staying in one of the cabins the mountain owns.”
“That sucks,” I shrugged. One of the side effects of my father’s accident was losing my sense of empathy. I mean, I knew when things were shitty, when it was socially appropriate to act sad. Put on frowny face. Say I’m sorry. But it took a lot for me to be emotionally moved anymore. Guess my capacity for sorrow wasn’t limitless.
Not like Liz, it seemed. I glanced at her, standing there worrying about a girl she didn’t know existed twenty minutes ago. I couldn’t imagine getting that invested in a complete stranger. It was such wasted energy, but I’d taken Bryan’s advice to heart, so I tried to distract her.
“So, how about this weather?” I said in a cheesy voice. She always seemed to love talking about the weather.
Liz straightened, apparently not finding this topic any better. “Yeah, it’s something else. They’ve already closed down 24. 40 is barely clear but they’re giving people a chance to get down.”
“Wait, what? Like, we can’t get off the mountain? That’s a thing that can happen?”
Liz gave me a grim smile as if she were proud of what it took to live in the mountains. “You must’ve seen the winding switchbacks on the way up here. Can you imagine driving that in the middle of snow like this?” she asked, nodding to the window.
I was still stunned. “Yeah, but what happens if we need to get off? Like, but if there’s a medical emergency or something? Or maybe one of the rich people need an expensive bottle of Pinot Noir?”
Her smile broadened as she gave me a shrug. “You tough it out.”
Heavy footsteps came from the office in the back. Bryan was still on the phone, his expression now of steely determination. “Yeah… Yeah… Okay, I’ll pick him up on the way down. See you in ten.” He turned off the phone and stared at the blank screen for a moment before looking up to us.
“So what’s going on?” Liz asked.
“That was Jim. He’s called an emergency session of the council. We’re meeting at the fire hall, which is already over capacity. And apparently a quarter of the town has already lost power.”
“What about Walt?”
“He’s gonna be at the meeting, too. I talked to him for a minute…” Bryan said with a shake of his head. “He said he couldn’t sleep, that it was the only thing that saved him this time. The alarm didn’t go off and when he smelled smoke, he thought it was jus
t from his clothes or something.”
“And the house?” Liz asked quietly.
I might’ve been a little slow through the fog of the hangover, but it all snapped together in an instant. We’d dropped the old guy off at the family house before coming home. I remembered watching Liz walk in and…
“Wait. One of the other houses that burned down was Grandpa’s?” I asked in shock.
Bryan met my gaze before looking away with tears in his eyes. “It’s all gutted.”
“Walt’s coming up here to stay,” Liz said with a shaky voice.
Bryan stepped forward with a sad smile and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ve already told him that.”
I stared into the distance as I tried to remember the exact layout of the small house. “I can’t believe it’s gone… but then again,” I said, looking at Liz, “this family has an abnormally high percentage rate of drama, don’t you think?”
Liz’s mouth worked, making her look like a fish gasping for air. Bryan quickly interjected with a jab of his own. “Speaking of which, did you manage not to puke on anyone coming down the stairs?”
I gave him a playful push and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Now, I don’t want you to freak out,” he said to me with a serious tone, “but you realize you’re up and out of bed before noon, right? You are witnessing your first morning in God knows how long, so please don’t panic.”
“Huh. So that’s what all this light is about?” I mocked as I examined the room.
Bryan laughed and leaned against the kitchen counter as he topped up his coffee. “Liz tell you the good news?”
“Yeah! She said a serial killer is coming after me,” I nodded enthusiastically. “Or that I might get burned to death. Either, or,” I replied, tilting my hand back and forth.
Bryan squinted as he looked from her to me. “Not exactly what I said,” Liz told him with a tight smile. I could’ve bailed her out but I enjoyed making her squirm.
