A Killing Frost

by Hannah Alexander

  So far, she had found a couple of places that might work for a hiding place in a pinch. But she was afraid that a pinch might become more dangerous. She didn’t like what she’d seen so far. Downstream a little farther, maybe she would find what she needed.

  Doriann scuttled along the solid rock bank of the creek, glad for the silence of her jogging shoes on the smooth surface. She came to a notch high in the bank, peered over it and saw a path. Judging by the dark, flat splotches on the ground, she knew cattle had made this trail, and had used it recently.

  After listening again for any sound from Clancy, and hearing nothing, she climbed the bank, followed the trail through a thicket of raspberry briars, and her jacket caught on one of the sharp thorns. She ripped it loose and stumbled backward. She fell hard on her rear.

  In that instant, two things happened. She realized she was warm from the exertion of walking-exertion?-yes, dummy, of course that’s the word. And she realized, as she looked around and discovered she was in a clearing, she knew where she was for the first time in hours.

  It was a bad place to be. The gray-red barn huddled in the middle of the field, and now that she knew where the cracks were in the walls, she could feel those cracks turning into eyes and watching her from inside.

  Who watched her from the barn? Deb? Has Clancy followed me through these woods and driven me back to this place the way Grandpa drives his cattle into a pen for shipment to be butchered?

  She looked behind her, stopped moving. Stopped breathing. No sound. Not even a bird sang, and no leaves rustled. She studied the clearing for a moment. Someone could jump on her from any direction. She looked up into the trees. No one.

  Okay, then. What next?

  Even though she didn’t know how she’d gotten here this time, she could remember how she’d gotten here the first time, when she was following Clancy and Deb, because they’d followed an old, overgrown tractor path.

  She recognized the cracks and holes in the side of the barn. It was where she had fallen asleep waiting for Clancy and Deb to crash. This meant the entrance they had taken to this clearing was on the other side of the field. All she had to do was cross the field and go south-she knew which direction she was facing now, because they’d come straight north from the river.

  At least, she thought that was right. It was the way the sun had looked when she followed them, before the clouds covered up everything.

  She zipped her jacket and pulled the hood over her head, glad now that she’d fallen down that muddy bank. It occurred to her that she wouldn’t have needed the camouflage if she’d worn her green jacket today.

  Aunt Renee said people should pray before each big decision, and even pray before they got up in the morning to make good decisions all day long. Doriann had never thought that meant she should pray about what clothes to put on each morning. Didn’t a girl get to have a say in anything?

  She decided not to cross the field directly, but to skirt the edge of the woods. No sound came from the barn, and nothing moved.

  As Doriann ran from tree to tree, pausing to hide for a moment behind each thick trunk and listen for anyone’s approach, she thought about Deb.

  She had yelled at Clancy in the barn. He’d hit her, and then for a few minutes, she hadn’t said anything. She’d sounded strange when she did speak again.

  Halfway around the field, Doriann was still thinking about that slurred voice. And she couldn’t help wondering…

  And that was stupid, because Deb might not be a killer like Clancy, but she was a kidnapper.

  Doriann, being the child of two doctors, knew a little about medicine. Mom and Dad didn’t get home much, but when they did, they talked a lot about their work, and Doriann had soaked up medical information. That was why she knew Deb could be in trouble.

  Doriann had just reached the place where she had followed Clancy and Deb into the clearing the first time, when her dumb conscience wouldn’t let her go farther.

  Aunt Renee always said that the enemy you see today could be a brother or sister in Christ tomorrow, because with God, all things were possible.

  I wonder how close Aunt Renee would get to that barn. If she was the one who’d been grabbed from the sidewalk and shoved into a truck, she might not be so fast to make friends then.

  According to the things she’d heard from Mom and Dad, it was possible Deb could have a concussion. Clancy had smacked her so hard, she’d had slurred speech afterward. Someone with a concussion shouldn’t be left alone.

  Aunt Renee said that even the most evil people in the world had souls, and only God could tell who would and who would not choose life with Him.

  Doriann groaned. “God, do I have to?”

  She stared at the barn, listened again for sinister sounds in the woods. Nothing.

  She stepped into the clearing and walked toward the barn.

  Tyrell waited long enough for Renee to have laid bare her deepest worries to their mother over the phone, then he called the hospital and asked for Fran Mercer to be paged.

  Mom answered in less than a minute, which meant she had been waiting for his call. She knew him well.

  “First of all, how’s Dad?” he asked.

  “He’s awake and feeling feisty enough to start asking why I’m hanging around. He wants to go home in the morning and check on the crops.”

  “Tell him I’m taking good care of the ranch, and I hope you’ve convinced him that coming home tomorrow isn’t possible.”

  “Dr. George will talk to him later. Right now I’m more worried about my kids. Renee told me about her conversation with you.”

  “Oh? The whole conversation?”

  “That’s right. I finagled it out of her. She isn’t handling this crisis well. She thinks that you think Doriann won’t make it out of this alive.”

  “That isn’t what I said.”

  “I explained that to her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But she’s teetering right now, Tyrell. Don’t take away what hope she has.”

  Tyrell was silent. He couldn’t help wondering if there would be any hope. What were Doriann’s chances?

  Apparently, Fran Mercer read her son’s mind. “I believe in miracles. If there’s a possibility that Doriann’s been taken to River Dance, then I can’t help feeling that is something to give us hope, for whatever reason it’s happening. I think you could help.”

  “In what way?”

  “I need you out there looking for her.”

  “I’m not an FBI agent, Mom, and they aren’t going to let a private citizen interfere in their investigation.”

  “You know central Missouri better than any FBI agent alive, and you know the people who live here. You know where all the hidden roads are, you’ve helped find the pot fields and the meth labs, you’ve hunted, fished, tracked right alongside your father all your life. If your father was able, he’d be out there looking for that truck.”

  “The time I spent on meth lab busts was for the police, not the Feds. They won’t allow-”

  “I’m not saying you should ask permission.”

  Tyrell frowned. His law-abiding mother was suggesting-

  “You wouldn’t want the FBI to allow you access to the investigation, even if they would allow it,” Mom said. “If you were working under the authority of the federal police, then they would be liable for any mistakes you might make. It could jeopardize evidence.”

  Wow, Mom. “And you know this because…?”

  “I read. You should try it more often. I’ve told Renee to have a talk with one of the agents working with Heather and Mark, explain about all the experience you’ve had. That way, in case they do happen across you in the course of searching for my granddaughter, they might suddenly develop a case of specified blindness, but under no circumstances should any of you request special permission to work with them.”

  “Mom, I’m not a professional tracker.”

  “You’re better than anybody I’ve ever known, except maybe Jama.”
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  Now, that smarted. Mom really thought Jama was the better tracker?

  “She has that typical female ability to see the big picture, whereas you have a gift of focus,” Mom explained.

  “Can’t see the forest for the trees?” Dad had told him that before.

  “The two of you make a great team.”

  “You can’t expect me to drag Jama into a dangerous situation like this, and even if certain agents might be persuaded to turn a blind eye to a lone man searching for his niece, they’re not going to allow a couple of us-”

  “Last I looked, this is a free country, and they can’t place crime scene tape around the whole Missouri River Valley. If a private citizen wants to drive Highway 94, nobody’s going to stop him.”

  Tyrell sighed. He got the message.

  “Honey,” Mom said, “this is Doriann we’re talking about. Now, I have the utmost respect for these specialized, brilliant, dedicated agents, but they don’t know Doriann, they don’t know you, and they don’t know the lay of the land. They may not think they need our help, but if they receive it, that gives Doriann better odds. Right now, if I were a betting woman, I’d be betting on you.”

  “Renee’s behind this.”

  “Yes, and I’m behind her. You’ve already made some calls. Make some more.”

  “But we don’t even know-”

  “Tyrell.”

  “Yes, Mother. I’ll call everyone I know, although I’m pretty sure the local grapevine will have alerted anyone who has a telephone or computer.”

  “Good. It may not make any difference, but you’ll feel better if you do. Now let’s talk about your sisters,” Mom said.

  “I know this is rough on them.”

  “Renee was up late last night with Ajay because he was running a fever, then the baby woke her early this morning. She was so tired she fell asleep for a few minutes late this afternoon. She told me that when she woke up, she heard Doriann’s voice in her head, a carryover from a dream. Doriann was yelling at Ajay for getting into her things, and then seconds later she was laughing at something the baby did.”

  Tyrell could imagine his niece’s voice, her laughter. He recalled the last time she’d gone fishing with him, and the day she’d visited him at work, riding with him on the tractor to inspect a stand of corn or row of soybeans. Her questions were exhausting. Her vitality and fascination made his job much more fun than usual.

  His memories caused his vision to blur. He blinked hard and cleared his throat. “I think I’ll take a drive while there’s still light to see.”

  “Good. One more thing. I’m worried about Renee. Mark and Heather sound better to me on the phone than Renee does.”

  “She’s tired. The nightmare looms larger.”

  “I know Renee’s kids drive Doriann nuts sometimes, but they love her, and she loves them. Renee mentioned she felt she should have spent more time with Doriann one-on-one, but-”

  “Mom, she isn’t Doriann’s-”

  “She thinks that if she’d disciplined her own children a little more, Doriann wouldn’t have skipped out today.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Renee does everything right. She spends more time with Doriann than Mark and Heather do.” Homeschooling her own children plus her strong-willed niece was a heavy load.

  Too late, he heard the heaviness of his mother’s sudden silence, and he realized his last words had revealed his thoughts far too clearly. Mom had easily picked up on them.

  “Tyrell-”

  “Sorry. Forget I said that. Mark and Heather had no way of knowing that on this particular day, some crazy people were going to abduct their daughter.”

  “We just need to focus on getting Doriann home,” Mom said. “Mark and Heather don’t need the guilt, either. If the worst should happen and we don’t get Doriann back, Mark and Heather are going to be-”

  “I would never lay the blame on them.”

  “But you already have, don’t you see? Mark and Heather know you disapprove of their casual parenting attitudes. Your attitude and words have shown that clearly in the past.”

  Tyrell closed his eyes at the sharpness in her words. They dug deeply.

  The soft breeze from the north cooled the perspiration on his neck and face, and he caught a spicy floral scent in the air. A killing frost would destroy the blooms that produced that fragrance. At this moment, it felt as if death hovered, ready to swoop down and destroy everything in its path, both human and plant.

  “I’m sorry,” Mom said. “We shouldn’t fight about the small things, we should stick together and support one another through this.”

  “I didn’t realize we were fighting.”

  “It’s going to be dark before long.”

  “I know. Just keep Dad happy and clueless as much as you can.” Tyrell paused, then said, “And tell him I love him, okay? I’ll do anything I can.”

  If he only knew what to do. Two weeks ago, he’d have been on the phone to Jama as soon as he’d disconnected. It wasn’t as if he’d made a habit of calling to tell her his worries. He just called to hear her voice. The comfort of her presence, even over the telephone, had meant so much. Right now, he needed so badly to call her.

  Why had he allowed this trouble to come between them? Why hadn’t he realized that a marriage proposal would frighten her away, and threaten their wonderful friendship?

  The eldest Mercer son needed a few lessons in empathy.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Doriann peeked into the barn from a crack between two ragged boards. She couldn’t see much. Especially, she couldn’t see Deb where she’d been before.

  That could mean anything. Maybe Deb had followed Clancy from the barn, or moved to a softer spot to sleep.

  But it did mean she’d moved, right? And that meant she could move, and so she wasn’t hurt that badly.

  Right?

  Doriann turned and looked around the field, listening. An airplane flew overhead. The breeze rustled the treetops, but she heard nothing unusual, in the barn or out.

  She was about to leave when she checked the interior of the barn once more, and noticed the tiny purple square of her cell phone on the dirt floor, next to where Deb had lain snoring earlier. It was probably where Clancy had dropped it after scrolling through Doriann’s pictures and making fun of her family and friends.

  If she could reach it without getting caught, this could be a way out of this crazy mess, after all.

  She needed that cell phone.

  With a final, long look around the field and into the woods, she crept to the broken barn door, which hung from one hinge against the siding. She waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside, surprised that, in spite of the holes in the roof and the cracked boards, the interior was too dark to see clearly.

  There was only enough light for her to see the central portion of the barn. She saw no human forms. There were some square shapes in the darkest corner, probably old-fashioned, small hay bales, and she couldn’t tell if anyone might be lurking near them.

  But she entered, slow and silent, barely touching her arm against the rough wood of the dangling door. The inside of the barn smelled old and moldy, like the wine cellars in River Dance. She was within a step of her phone when she heard something outside…the brush of pant legs against each other? The swish of an arm against a bush?

  Doriann grabbed the phone from the floor, raking dirt beneath her fingernails. She slid the phone into her pocket as she rushed toward the hay bales in the far corner. Her toe caught on something and she pitched forward.

  She landed face-first in a bale of mildewed, smelly hay that muffled her grunt of surprise.

  Another sound-whispers, soft chuckles, more whispers-reached her from the doorway, and she looked over her shoulder to see Clancy standing there.

  God, help! She froze as his head turned in her direction. It would take a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. He wouldn’t see her until-

  He turned away suddenly, as if startled, and
looked back out the door. Doriann hurried behind the hay bale, stepping high to keep from tripping again. He hadn’t seen her.

  But as soon as she landed, she heard what had startled him. The baying of a hound. Before she could focus on that familiar hunting call, Clancy came running toward her, tripped and fell flat in the same spot where she had fallen. Under the noise of his scramble to get back on his feet, she scrunched more deeply between two bales of hay, trying hard not to sneeze.

  Any second, he would find her, and she would be dead.

  He stumbled against the hay bale to her left, and lay there panting. Only a bale of hay separated her from a killer.

  Jama strolled through the quiet clinic as the long light of dusk slanted through the front windows. Evening was falling; she and Ruth had so much left to do. Meds needed to be ordered, supplies purchased, filing systems set up on the computer. Though the new personnel Ruth hired would take care of the office work, Jama and Ruth would both have to be competent with the system. Cross-training in a small clinic was vital.

  Jama had given herself a long, silent lecture about her resentment of Ruth’s behavior with Ted.

  Yes, this day had seemed to be derived from one of Jama’s worst nightmares, and she knew that she would be understandably tense, but still she felt as if she’d been treated like a med student.

  Ruth sat at the computer beside the reception desk, entering a list of meds on an order form.

  “What you did was unkind,” Jama said.

  Ruth looked up at her. “What?”

  “You were unkind with Ted.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints from the patient.”

  “He wouldn’t complain. You handled him nicely, but you didn’t give me the chance to do it myself in my own way.”

  Ruth perused the computer screen, punched Send, then swiveled to face Jama. “Don’t be a prima donna. You joked with him about pearly gates when he needed immediate medical attention that we couldn’t give.”

  “I was checking his vitals. I was attempting to gently guide him, and you loaded him with guilt.”