Winter Winds

by Gayle Roper

  “Now wait a minute,” Jonathan roared. “We have things to discuss!”

  Ed nodded. “I agree with you. We do. However, we want to do it according to the chapel’s bylaws.” He opened the folder he had in his hand and began to read from the paper in it. “ ‘Any business meeting of this assembly may be called by the majority of the board of elders, the congregation being given two weeks notice of said meeting.’ ”

  Ed looked at the people in the pews. “In keeping with this specifically spelled-out policy, the majority of the four-member board of elders—Jerome, Frank, and I—call a meeting for two weeks from tonight.” He turned to Jonathan. “We know that you will agree with us that following already-legislated church policy is by far the best way to do things.”

  Jonathan looked ready to explode, but he again had no choice but to agree.

  Ed turned back to the people. “At that time we shall address any and all issues affecting Pastor Paul Trevelyan, in particular the circumstances of his marriage. In the meantime, we request that you all be in prayer about this meeting. Our main objectives are to air all issues honestly and to do so in a spirit of Christian love and concern.”

  Dori stood by Trev, amazed at the way Jonathan had been defanged, and all without the spilling of any blood. Suddenly Trev pulled her hand, and she found herself walking down the center aisle beside him.

  “And to close tonight, I’ve asked Pastor Paul, who was out of town at an important conference but who rushed back to be with us in this potentially divisive time, to close with prayer.”

  Trev walked onto the platform, pulling Dori with him. A united front. She couldn’t wait to hear his prayer. In fact, she hoped he said a few pointed words first.

  “Lord,” Trev began as he stopped at the mike. “We are your people. Seaside Chapel is but one small part of the Body of Christ, but it is our part, and we love it. We want above all that Christ be glorified here. Come lead us. Show us what, given our present circumstances, is the best way that we can bring glory, not dishonor, to the name of Christ through whom we pray, amen.”

  Ed stepped to the mike again. “Good night, everyone.”

  In mere minutes the church was empty.

  Thirty

  MAUREEN, SOMETHING’S WRONG with Trudy.” Ryan held the little dog in his arms. Instead of her usual lavish licking of his face, she lay inert, her little paws drooping listlessly.

  Maureen looked at the too-still dog and felt instant alarm. She laid her hand on the animal’s chest.

  “Is she dead?” Ryan’s eyes were huge.

  For a moment Maureen thought the answer was yes, and she paled at the thought. Ryan didn’t need another loss; he’d faced more than his share in his short life. And how would she tell Dori that her dog had died on her watch?

  “I feel a heartbeat,” she cried, her knees going weak with relief. She ran her hand over the little dog’s head. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Ryan hugged the animal close. “She went out back with Jack a few minutes ago. She doesn’t like the cold weather at all, so I didn’t wait too long before calling for her to come in. She came, walked funny to her water, took a few slurps, and sort of fell over.”

  Maureen frowned. She had known from the beginning that the main flaw in the plan to have the suitcase taken was always the dogs. But if the dogs were removed from the scene … “Where’s Jack?”

  “He’s still out.”

  Maureen flew to the back door and threw it open. “Jack!” she called. “Jack!”

  No big black dog bounded to her.

  Ryan pushed in front of her, Trudy still in his arms. “Jack! Come here, boy. Come on, Jack. Come on.”

  No dog appeared.

  “Maybe he’s being stubborn,” Ryan suggested, his eyes worried behind his replacement glasses.

  Maureen doubted it but had to acknowledge the possibility “He could be out there, and we’d never see him in the dark. The porch light doesn’t reach that far.”

  “There’s a light on the garage,” Ryan said. “It shines on the backyard so you can see when you come in from the alley.”

  Maureen hit all the switches by the door. The kitchen and porch went dark, but the spotlight on the garage poured brightness onto the fenced yard.

  “The gate’s open!” Ryan yelled and began running. “We never leave it open!” Maureen was right behind him. They stopped at the gate, and Maureen looked carefully at the sturdy latch that had to be opened by sliding it up the heavy support pole. There was no way that latch had been opened by a dog, even one as big and smart as Jack.

  “Was it open when you let the dogs out?” Maureen asked as she studied the yard, especially the shadows behind the edge of the garage.

  “I don’t think so,” Ryan said. “But I’m not sure. I never thought to check because we always keep it shut.” He peered into the darkness and called, “Here, Jack. Come on, boy!”

  Maureen laid a hand on his sleeve. “Don’t bother. If he’s escaped, he’s not hanging around. He’s out running.”

  “The beach.” Ryan’s voice was firm and certain. “He’d head there. He loves it.”

  Maureen nodded. It was as good a guess as any, probably better than most. “One gate mysteriously open, one dog missing, and the other unaccountably unconscious.”

  “The suitcase!” Ryan’s eyes were big.

  “Probably Let’s go in. I’ll call Greg and Fleishman. Then I’ll get you out of here.”

  “What? No way!”

  “Way” Maureen said. “Nonnegotiable. And we’ve got to get Trudy to the vet’s.”

  Ryan stopped with his hand on the back doorknob. “They drugged her, didn’t they?”

  Maureen shrugged as she pushed him inside. “Probably.” She reached for her cell.

  “How about Jack?”

  She punched the quick dial number. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” The phone was answered, and she turned her attention to it. “Hello, Greg. Tonight’s the night. The dogs have been drugged.”

  “We can’t just let him be sick out there,” Ryan wailed. “We’ve got to find him! We’ve got to!”

  “Ryan and I are the only ones here. Everyone else is at church, work, or out of town.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to Ryan. “Get a blanket and wrap Trudy in it. Find a couple of flashlights.”

  “So we can look for Jack?”

  Maureen nodded. “Get going and wrap yourself up well, too.”

  The boy charged from the room.

  “Get yourself and the kid out of the house,” Greg said in Maureen’s ear. “We want that suitcase as accessible as possible. Fleishman is lurking down the street behind a hedge. Great shadows to hide in. His car’s around the corner. I’ll alert him. And I just took up position in the back alley.”

  “All my time on this case, and I’m going to miss all the fun!” She knew she had no choice with Ryan and the dogs, but it was a distinct letdown to know she was going to miss the collar.

  “Go, Galloway. That’s an order.” And he hung up.

  She was pushing her arms into her bright blue coat when Ryan rushed into the room with Trudy lolling in his arms, a green fleece blanket wrapped around her so that only her head with her glassy, unfocused eyes, black button nose, and floppy little ears showed.

  They rushed out of the house to Maureen’s car parked along the curb out front. Maureen blinked to keep the tears of frustration and aggravation from doing anything more than sting the backs of her eyes. She was a professional. She could take disappointment. Besides, the kid and the dogs needed her.

  She drove to the end of the block and turned toward the beach. She parked illegally at the break in the dunes where a path led to the beach. She and Ryan jumped out, leaving Trudy snug in her blanket on the backseat.

  The cold bit through her coat, making her shiver as they rushed onto the sand. The night was very dark, the moon a mere sliver covered by clouds much of the time. Since the homes lining the beach were mostly summer residences,
there was no artificial light to help them find a black dog on a black night.

  In the distant north, Atlantic City was just visible, more a brightness reflected against the clouds than actual lights, and several blocks to the north, light poured from the windows of two homes onto the beach. Neither was close enough to be of help. A small bobbing light appeared closer, but again it provided them with no aid.

  To the south it was all black. Directly ahead the ocean’s ebony was relieved by the muted curling of the foam-flocked waves as the sea relentlessly tried to reclaim the beaches that the taxpayers had paid for and the Army Corps of Engineers had dredged up and piped in.

  “If he ate something drugged like Trudy did, he can’t be too far, can he?” Ryan asked as he peered into the darkness.

  “I wouldn’t think so.” Maureen gave him a quick hug. “Don’t worry We’ll find him.”

  “Yeah.” But Ry didn’t sound convinced. “Which way?”

  “You go left. I’ll go right,” Maureen said. “Call if you see anything.”

  She turned south, and a feeling of helplessness overcame her. How would they ever find him? And how long could they afford to hunt for Jack before Trudy was truly endangered by the delay in seeking treatment for her?

  Lord, let us see Jack and fast. Help us find him! Day and night are alike to You. Lead us to him.

  “Maureen! Maureen! I found him.”

  She turned and ran toward Ryan’s voice. The beam of her flashlight found him crouched beside a black bulk that lay inert on the sand. Ry was stroking Jack’s head, crooning to him in that soft, caressing voice used instinctively on invalids and babies.

  She dropped to her knees beside Ryan and slid her hand down the dog’s chest. She went limp with relief when she felt a heartbeat.

  “We’ve got to get him to the car.” She stood and looked back at the break in the dunes. She turned and stared at the unmoving Jack. She walked behind him, bent, wrapped her arms around him under his forelegs, and pulled.

  Nothing. Absolutely not one inch.

  Vaguely aware that the bobbing light was getting nearer but paying it no attention, she straightened. “Maybe we can roll him on the blanket and pull him to the car that way.”

  “What about Trudy? She’ll freeze if we take her blanket.”

  “It’ll only be for a little while. Unless you have a better idea, guy, I don’t see what else we can do.” She turned and ran back to the car, her flashlight beam jumping with each step, the sand dragging against her feet. She skidded to a stop beside her car and opened the back door. She grabbed the green fleece and the little dog wrapped in it. She reached into the blanket with trepidation and felt Trudy’s chest. Her heartbeat was still faint but steady.

  Holding Trudy firmly against her chest inside her jacket, she hurried back to Ryan, finding him still on his knees beside Jack. Suddenly a flashlight beam struck them.

  Blinking against the sudden light in her eyes, Maureen called, “Who’s there?”

  “Clooney,” came the answer.

  Clooney? The name meant nothing to her.

  Ryan jumped to his feet. “Clooney? It’s Ryan Harper. Pastor Paul’s dog is sick.”

  “Well, hello, young Ryan.” A man with a long gray ponytail halted in the light of Maureen’s flashlight beam. He wore a ratty green down ski jacket and jeans with a hole in one knee. A Phillies cap sat on his head, his ponytail pulled through the hole in the back, and he had on a pair of well-worn dark leather gloves. A huge sparkler, surely a cubic zirconium, pierced one ear.

  “You know him, Ryan?” Maureen asked.

  “Everyone knows Clooney,” Ryan said as the man dropped to his knees beside the boy. Ry jerked his thumb toward Maureen. “She’s Maureen Galloway, the new cop in Seaside.”

  “Ah,” Clooney said. “I’d heard we had a lady on the force.” He looked over his shoulder at Maureen who hovered behind him. “Pleased to meet you, Officer Galloway. That a blanket you’ve got there?”

  “We were going to get Jack on it and pull him to the car,” Ryan explained.

  “Exactly the plan I would suggest.” He stood and reached for the blanket. Trudy’s little head lolling out of Maureen’s jacket caused him a slight jerk of surprise. “This one sick too?”

  “Someone seems to have drugged them.” Maureen ran a hand over Trudy’s head.

  He pinched his lips and shook his head. “Some people are cruel.”

  Clooney shook the blanket open, let it fall to the ground beside Jack’s back, and pushed the edge as far beneath the animal as he could.

  “Help me roll him, young Ryan.”

  The two circled the blanket, took hold of Jack’s legs, and swung them over his body until he was lying on his other side and on the edge of the blanket. Then Clooney knelt and slid first Jack’s head and shoulders, then his hindquarters, until the animal was resting in the middle of the blanket. The only sign the dog gave of being aware of the people manipulating him was a deep sigh.

  Clooney and Ryan stood. Clooney looked from Ryan to Maureen and back.

  “Young Ryan, I don’t want you to take this wrong, but I think you should hold the little dog and Officer Galloway should help me pull.”

  “I’m strong for my size,” Ryan protested. “I can pull.”

  “Let’s put it this way, boy.” Clooney bent as he spoke and picked up a corner. “You can take over for her when she tires. After all, she’s only a girl.”

  Understanding that Clooney was trying to save Ryan’s sense of self, Maureen puffed herself up and said, “Only a girl? What do you mean by that, mister?”

  Ryan giggled and reached for Trudy.

  “You have her tucked inside your coat?” Maureen asked as she bent for her corner of the blanket.

  “Already done,” Ryan said.

  They began their slow progress across the beach. It was astonishing how heavy Jack was, lying there unable to help at all. Maureen dragged first with one hand, then the other, then both, walking forward, then walking backward. Clooney pulled like Jack weighed as much as Trudy.

  “What are you doing up here at this hour of the night?” Ryan asked as he walked beside them. “Isn’t this a bit late for beachcombing?”

  “A bit cold, too,” Clooney added. “And I forgot my spade and detector.”

  Maureen watched Clooney from the corner of her eye. He was well-spoken and intelligent, and her instincts told her he was safe. Ryan certainly trusted him. But had she heard right? A beachcomber?

  When Clooney said nothing more, Ryan said, “So? Why are you here?”

  Clooney cleared his throat. “Something just told me I had to come.” He sounded apologetic, as if they wouldn’t be able to believe him.

  Not something, Maureen thought. Someone.

  “What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

  “I don’t rightly know,” Clooney said, his voice still uncertain. “I was in my house watching some TV when all of a sudden I got the feeling that I needed to go to the beach. I tried to shrug it off. After all, it’s well after dark on a midwinter night. It’s not the best time or weather for detecting.”

  “But the feeling wouldn’t go away?” Ryan’s voice was excited.

  Maureen didn’t say anything, but she felt pretty excited too. It had to be God supplying an answer to her prayers for Jack before she even prayed them.

  “The feelings wouldn’t go away,” Clooney agreed. “I even knew I was to come to this area of the beach.” He shrugged. “So I did.”

  “Wow!” Ryan was clearly impressed. “It’s like ESP!”

  Maureen stopped and turned to Ryan. “It’s like God, kiddo. It’s like God.”

  Thirty-One

  BARNEY JOANNE, AND VINNIE sat in Barney’s black car parked in the drive of a summer house across the street and three doors down from Trev’s. Joanne was toasty sitting in the curve of Barney’s arm, except for her feet. The boots with the stiletto heels might make her legs look great, but they were no good at keeping her feet warm.

&nb
sp; The three of them had been sitting here for a couple of hours now, except for when Vinnie delivered the doped meat. She grinned. Barney had warmed her up very nicely while Vinnie was gone. Now he was back, and the cold was beginning to seep up her legs even though she wore jeans over tights.

  “Can you turn on the heat for a few minutes, Barney?” she asked. “I’m getting cold.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t because the cops would see the exhaust.”

  “What cops?” She leaned forward and scanned the street. It looked completely empty to her.

  “See that hedge?” He pointed in the direction of the house they were watching, the one where Dori MacAllister now lived.

  She didn’t, but she nodded. She didn’t want Barney to know her eyes were so bad. Like her mom always said, guys don’t go for girls with glasses.

  “There’s a cop behind it,” Barney said. “He’s been there ever since it got dark.”

  Joanne was surprised, but she didn’t question Barney’s statement. Barney knew everything. “He must be freezing!”

  Barney looked at her, and she could hear the amusement in his voice when he said, “You worried about him?”

  “Not really worried.” Joanne tried to wiggle her toes again. “But being cold’s no fun.”

  “He’s wrapped up in a sleeping bag,” Vinnie said, looking straight ahead out the windshield. Joanne knew he was doing his best to pretend she wasn’t there. “He’s probably warmer than we are.”

  “A sleeping bag?” Joanne blinked. “Wow, what a good idea. I wish I had one.”

  “There’s also a cop in the alley,” Vinnie said. “He showed up just as I was leaving the meat.” He held up a hand and said quickly, “But he didn’t see me.”

  Joanne looked at him. “You didn’t hurt the dogs, did you? I told Barney I didn’t want them hurt.” She turned to Barney. “I don’t want you to hurt that girl either. Or the kid. Or the minister.”

  Barney gave her a squeeze. “It’s sort of hard to do my job if I can’t hurt anyone.”