Snow Cold Case_A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery

by M. Z. Andrews

  “Get off, Rocky!” Johanna hollered.

  Sure that the man was playing with him and enjoying the impromptu bath, Rocky continued the licking.

  Johanna had to heave all of her weight against her dog to force him off the stranger, and as she did, she accidentally dropped a knee onto the man’s stomach. He reflexively curled up and let out a “Doh!” sound.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed with wide eyes as she struggled to climb off of him. When she was finally on her feet, she leaned over him, her little pink balls of yarn dangling just a few feet above his face. His eyes were pinched shut, and his face screwed up into a grimace. He smelled like sandalwood and wet dog all at the same time.

  “I—I—I am so, so sorry!” She moved her hands around his head awkwardly, not sure if she should make a pillow behind his head, or if she should drag him up to his feet. “Sir? Umm… are you alright? Are you hurt?”

  With his eyes still closed, the man let out a wheeze and tried to sit up, but Johanna was still bent over him. Their foreheads collided. The man’s head bounced backwards against the path. “Oh!” he screamed, as both muddied hands went to hold his head.

  Johanna let out a similar scream, as she reeled backwards. She rubbed the tips of her fingers against her temples and stared down at the man. Horror filled her body. Not only had she and Rocky soaked his beautiful suit in mud and park sludge, but they’d both done more physical damage to him than if he’d been in a WWE match. While he nursed his sore head, Johanna spun around on her toes, unable to face him. What should she say?

  When she heard him let out another groan, she turned back around to see him lifting his head trying to look down at his suit.

  “Oh, sir,” she gushed. “Are you alright? Can I help you up?”

  He held two hands out in front of him to keep her from touching him. “No, no. I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured her.

  Johanna’s could barely feel the throbbing in her head and shins as her stomach turned. She’d always thought that someday she’d get to talk to the stranger in the park. She’d dreamt it would have been a beautiful day and she’d have actually done her hair and put on an attractive workout outfit. She’d have been walking Rocky, and he’d have been on his best behavior, of course. The man would have stopped her to comment on what a nice dog she had and somehow their conversation would turn to the weather, and then he’d mention he’d seen her several times a week for the last few years. She’d think of something witty or clever to say. He’d ask her name… she’d ask his… maybe together they’d walk with Rocky to get coffee…

  With her heart in her throat, Johanna sighed. She’d never have imagined in a million years that their first official meeting would have been on a cold, rainy night in December when she hadn’t showered in two days, and that it would result in his destroyed clothes, broken ribs, and a concussion.

  “Please—I—I’m so, so sorry,” she stuttered, the words coming out of her mouth like Heinz ketchup from a glass bottle.

  As he regained his wits, the man struggled to sit up. “I’m okay. Looks like my suit didn’t fare quite as well.”

  Johanna reached down and held a hand out to him. Grudgingly, he took it and allowed her to help pull him to his feet. “I see that. I will totally pay your cleaning bill. Or—or buy you a new suit!”

  As he steadied himself, the man gave her a forced smile. “I appreciate that, but really there’s no need. This suit was headed to the cleaners anyway. I think it will be fine.”

  “Oh, please, I feel terrible,” begged Johanna, her heart throbbing in her chest. Her fingertips gathered on the little patch of skin just below her nose. She delicately fingered the painful little mound above her lip uncomfortably, and suddenly she became completely aware of how she looked. At least her breath didn’t stink, and it was dark. That was something.

  “Really, it’s alright. No serious damage done. That’s a pretty big dog you’ve got there,” he remarked, examining his muddy hands.

  Johanna watched Rocky running circles around a tree. She shifted uncomfortably in her rain boots. What was she supposed to say? She didn’t generally communicate with other humans, at least not face-to-face, and where some women might know exactly how to flirt their way out of a situation such as this, Johanna did not. “Yeah. He’s an English mastiff.”

  “I thought so,” he said with a nod, finally deciding to wipe his hands on his already dirtied trousers. “What’s his name?”

  Johanna tugged on the little puff balls of yarn hanging just above her breasts and suddenly remembered the hat she was wearing. Her grandmother had crocheted it for her when she was in the seventh grade. It had a pink dog face on it and two little dog ears that poked out of either side of her head. She wanted to crawl into a hole. “Umm, his name is Rocky, er, Rockland Gable Hughes, Rocky for short,” she rambled uncomfortably. “Your back is soaking wet. You’ve got to be freezing. Would you like to wear my coat?”

  The man looked at her faded pink coat and lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, thank you, but, uh, I don’t think I’d fit into it.”

  Johanna nodded and looked down at her hands awkwardly. You’re such an idiot! Of course he can’t fit into your ridiculously ugly coat! Why did you wear the stupid thing anyway?! “Oh, sure. What was I thinking?” She shook her head. “Well, I better not keep you, since you’re probably freezing. Again, I’m really sorry about my dog, a-and the mud. And your stomach… and your head.”

  The man waved a hand as he really looked at her for the first time. His smile softened a bit. “Don’t feel bad. Really, it was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going, or I would have seen Rocky coming. Too engrossed in work as usual. I’ll be good as new as soon as I get a warm shower. No worries, alright?”

  Johanna bit the inside of her lip and nodded uncomfortably. She felt tears burning behind her eyes, but she forced them back. “Okay,” she whispered, pursing her lips in a tight smile.

  The man gave her a half-smile and a little wave. “Goodbye,” he said before heading on his way.

  When he’d turned his back to her, Johanna watched him go and felt her insides churning. “What an idiot you are, Johanna,” she whispered to herself. “Five years of seeing that man on this very path and you can’t wear a decent coat and a normal hat?” She threw her hands down on either side of her and turned around to chase after Rocky. “And you offer him your coat? Like you’re what? A man?!” She pounded her forehead with the palm of her hand. “No wonder you don’t have any friends!” She lifted her brows animatedly as she chastised herself. “No, really. You shouldn’t be allowed out of the house. You’re an embarrassment to the human race.

  “We’re leaving, Rocky, and if you’re not over here in two shakes, I’m going without you,” shouted Johanna, her tone firmer than it had been with Rocky in months.

  From across the fence, Rocky stared at her, frozen. She waited a solid ten seconds and then took off. He barked but gave up on his squirrel chasing and met back up with her on the path.

  “I’m so mad at you, Rocky! I can’t even. You haven’t behaved that badly in… in… well… in a long time.”

  He hung his head.

  “Of all the people to maul, you have to pick him?!”

  Rocky let out a guttural growl.

  “Because it… it’s… him! He’s so… so…ugh,” Johanna sighed and rolled her head back on her neck. He was so what? She didn’t even know how to finish that statement. Perfect was what she wanted to say, but how in the world did she know if he was perfect? Just because he looked perfect. And smelled perfect. And was ridiculously kind to her when her horse-dog knocked him into the mud and she clumsily beat him to a pulp. Okay, so maybe he was perfect. But that didn’t mean anything. He was also probably perfectly married. Or perfectly gay. Or perfectly allergic to awkward writers who rarely left the house.

  Johanna swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. There was only one man in her life who had ever accepted her awkwardness, and he was gone. She was sure she’d never find
another man like him. So sure that she’d never even tried looking.

  James had been her childhood sweetheart. Living next door to her family growing up, he’d relished her pitiful clumsiness—calling her adorable rather than awkward—laughed at her stupid jokes, and loved her face even without makeup—so much so that she’d never learned to wear the stuff properly and was now a thirty-five-year-old who didn’t know how to apply eyeliner. James didn’t care that Johanna was a homebody who preferred books and dogs to people. And it didn’t bother him a bit that she liked watching old reruns of Murder, She Wrote and Columbo in her pj’s instead of going to the movie theater or out to a club on a Saturday night.

  James and Johanna had seen each other through every major life event. High school and college graduations. The deaths of both Johanna’s mother and her grandmother. James’s first big job at the Times. Johanna’s first hit novel. James’s first big job loss. But through everything, they’d managed to come out on the other side together. They’d even promised to spend their lives together and sealed the deal with an engagement and the dream of a winter wedding.

  But then the unthinkable had happened, and Johanna had been left alone for the single most important event in both of their lives. She’d been left alone when it was time to bury him.

  3

  “I can’t believe they’re sold out of mixers!” complained Johanna as she left the pet-friendly home goods store with Rocky by her side. “I should have just ordered it online the minute Dad mentioned it.” Of course, Johanna had been too cheap to pay for postage and too busy writing her most recent book and mothering a two-hundred-pound mastiff to have paused to one-click it on Amazon and now she was up against a deadline. Her family’s pre-Christmas get-together was now knocking on her door.

  Standing on the sidewalk, she glanced around at all the busy shops, debating which other stores might carry a mixer and be pet-friendly. While she stood hugging her coat around her and wishing she’d thought to bring gloves on their walk, Rocky let out a series of barks.

  “What?” Her teeth chattered as she squinted up into the dark sky, wondering if there would be snow on the ground by the time she woke up in the morning. “You ready to go home?”

  “Woof!” He tugged on his leash, begging her to follow him.

  Johanna followed his gaze to see the furriest grey cat she’d ever seen lying in the display window of an antique shop. She chuckled. “I see her. She’s lovely, but you’ve already had your fun for the day, chasing after that squirrel. I think it’s time to go home.”

  “Woof, woof!” he argued, tugging her towards the shop.

  Johanna sighed as she noticed the pet-friendly sign in the window. She felt herself relenting. She rather enjoyed antique shops. All the fun little treasures one could find, each of them with a story to tell. “Oh, fine, we’ll go in. But you’d better be on your best behavior, because if you’re naughty, we’re going straight home.” She pulled him to her and patted his side.

  Johanna pushed the door open, and immediately the scent of fresh red cedar and cinnamon sticks engulfed her, delighting her senses. A Christmas tree decorated with antique ornaments and strands of colorful lights was front and center in the shop, with an old Radio Flyer sled leaning against it. Festive garlands with big red silk balls hung from the raw-cut cedar rafters, and the song “Winter Wonderland” played on a crackly old radio.

  An elderly man behind the counter gave Johanna a smile and a nod. “Good evening, are you looking for anything special?”

  Rocky went right for the cat in the window, pulling Johanna along for the ride.

  Johanna threw him a smile over her shoulder. “We saw your cat in the window. Rocky had to come check it out.”

  The balding man nodded. “She’s a bit of a salty thing, that one. Not my cat, but the darn thing won’t leave.”

  Johanna gave him a funny look. “Maybe you just need to put her outside.”

  The man sat back down on his stool and chuckled warmly. “Oh, I’ve tried. Dozens and dozens of times. I put her outside, and she always sneaks back in.”

  Johanna looked at the cat. The long, fluffed-up grey hair around her neck gave her the appearance of a lion with a mane. “You’d think someone would adopt her; she’s a beautiful cat.”

  The man pointed at a sign in front of his counter. It read, Free Cat. “I’ve probably had a handful of people take her home with them. She always comes back.”

  Johanna tipped her head to the side. “Isn’t that something? She must really like your shop.”

  He threw his hands up. “I guess. I don’t know what else to think. I’d be okay with her staying if she was a little bit more lovable.”

  Johanna’s brows lifted. “I’ve yet to meet an unlovable cat.”

  “Try and pet her,” he urged, shooing his hand towards the cat. “She’s a spirited one.”

  Rocky’s head rested on the sill of the deep window display. The cat was feet away, curled up in a ball, watching traffic go by. Johanna kept a close hand on his leash, fearing that he might suddenly bolt ahead and jump into the window.

  “She looks comfortable,” said Johanna to the shopkeeper. “I think I’ll just let her be. Come on, Rocky. We might as well browse while we’re here.”

  “We’re having a Christmas sale. Twenty percent off a purchase of thirty-five dollars or more.”

  Johanna nodded at him. “Thank you.” She tugged on Rocky’s leash. “Let’s look around, buddy.”

  Grudgingly, Rocky left the window but kept his eyes firmly planted on the cat while Johanna browsed the holiday-themed home decor items near the window. “You don’t happen to carry stand mixers, do you?” Johanna shouted towards the counter.

  “I just sold one this morning,” he said. “It was my last.”

  Johanna’s mouth swished to the side. Darn it. She’d be hard-pressed to get one delivered in time now.

  Rocky let out an excited bark. Johanna turned to see the cat had jumped out of the display window. Rocky tugged on his leash, wanting to follow her as she took slow, deliberate steps towards the counter. “No, you’ll get us in trouble,” Johanna hissed at him, pulling him close to her side.

  He stood frozen with pert ears watching intently as the cat sauntered off. She almost seemed to flirt with him, wagging her fluffy tail back and forth as she gazed back at Rocky, her brilliant green eyes glowing like emeralds against a furry grey blanket. “Woof!”

  “Yes, she’s very pretty,” agreed Johanna, unable to take her eyes off of the cat. How can a cat like that be unlovable? she wondered as the cat took off deeper into the store until finally, she was completely out of sight.

  Agitated now, Rocky wagged his tail furiously. He fidgeted about awkwardly like he suffered from restless leg syndrome or was trying to dance, but had four left feet.

  Johanna gave him a sad smile. He was always such a good boy, his previous escapade excluded, cooped up in her apartment all day. So, when he got a chance to get out of the house, she liked to make him happy. “You really want to follow her, don’t you?”

  “Woof!”

  “Alright, alright. We’ll see what she’s up to, and then we’ll go. Okay?”

  Rocky strode ahead. With his head to the ground, he sniffed out her trail. Together Johanna and Rocky wound their way through the antique shop. Johanna held his leash tightly, scared that he would bulldoze his way through the store and destroy a china display or some expensive crystal vase or something, but he only led them to a staircase, barking at the base of it.

  Johanna craned her neck to see if there were more antiques up there or if it was just for employees.

  “You can go up there,” said the man at the counter. “There are lots of collectibles up there, so you’ll want to hang on to him.”

  “Thank you,” said Johanna, wrapping his leash around her hand in several tight loops. She turned to Rocky and whispered, “Careful.”

  Excited, he bounded up the stairs with her close behind. Upstairs, they discovered rows
and rows of carefully displayed items. Rocky dragged Johanna along until finally, they both caught sight of the cat again. She sat on the floor at the base of a large shelf, watching them with her head tilted to the side and that big fluffy tail calmly swatting the floor. She looked both regal and suspicious, as only cats could, and it occurred to Johanna that if she didn’t know better, she’d think the cat was egging them along.

  As they approached, the cat sprang up onto the third shelf, where she reached up higher to put her paw on a snow globe. Drawing her attention to it, the cat meowed and waved her fluffy tail at Rocky.

  “Woof!” Rocky barked excitedly.

  Johanna couldn’t help but smile at Rocky. She knew he wanted nothing more than to snuggle the cat and coat her in a pool of slobber until her fur was like wet cotton candy smashed against her body.

  “No, Rocky, you leave her alone.”

  Now, Johanna’s eyes were on the snow globe. She lifted it to look at it more closely. The weighted brass base was embossed with swirls and stars, and inside the glass ball was a bedroom scene. A beautiful young woman with long, wavy chocolate-brown hair sat at a sewing machine sewing a dress. Beside her stood a mannequin wearing the most beautiful wedding gown Johanna had ever seen. There was a wardrobe full of dresses behind her and a four-poster bed. A soft smile covered Johanna’s face as she gave the globe a shake and the snow erupted, coating the dress and the girl’s hair with a blanket of white.

  Johanna blinked back tears as her hand went to her mouth to cover the giggle escaping her lips. Something about seeing the wedding dress in the snow globe at Christmas time made her oddly emotional and happy at the same time. Even though they hadn’t picked a date, she and James had agreed on a winter wedding.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, not sure if she meant the globe or the dress. She shook it again, and as she watched the delicate, glittering flakes fall she felt a sudden mystic connection to the globe—as if it were calling to her. The feeling overwhelmed her, causing Johanna to hastily put the globe back on the shelf and withdraw her hands as if it had shocked her.