by B. T. Lord
In this remote corner of Maine, the people of Clarke County developed a kind of snow radar as part of their DNA make-up. They knew when it was going to storm much better than the forecasters did. And they were more accurate than the forecasters as well. Cammie knew they were going to be hit with a major snowstorm before the day was out.
For once, she looked forward to the impending storm. Not even an intrepid journalist would risk frostbite parked outside HQ or her house in a raging snowstorm.
As she maneuvered the Explorer over the snow covered roads, she felt an excitement she hadn’t felt since this whole mess started. She knew Carolyn held the key to what happened. She also knew Carolyn had a temper. What had Eli done to set off that temper? If Wanda’s memory was correct, there didn’t seem to be any reason for Carolyn to throw herself at Eli with the intention of hurting him. He hadn’t said anything except the obvious. Jace had been planning to sleep with Carolyn behind her back. So what had triggered the insurance agent’s attack on Eli? Had something happened earlier in the day that culminated in her assaulting him? The more Cammie thought about it, the more she began to suspect that Carolyn could very well have set Jace up. Whatever happened between her and Eli could be enough of a reason for her to seek revenge. And once the revenge had been taken, she’d had the perfect fall guy in a drunk and incoherent Jace.
There was no vehicle in Carolyn’s driveway when Cammie pulled up. She rang the doorbell, called Carolyn’s home phone, but there was no answer. Guessing she was still at work, Cammie debated whether she should confront her there, then decided against it. She had Wanda’s words, but no proof. Not yet. The only thing to do was to come back later when she knew Carolyn would be home. She’d confront her then. Just the two of them.
All throughout high school, and since her return to Twin Ponds, she’d never given Carolyn much thought. She’d been busy with the drama in her own life and hadn’t cared one way or the other about Carolyn, or about the way the woman felt about her. But now, as she climbed back into the Explorer and headed towards town, she began to feel an intense dislike coupled with a feeling deep down inside that she’d like nothing better than to smash the woman’s face in. Of course she wouldn’t do that. She was a professional police officer. But she couldn’t deny the pleasure she would take in knocking the bitch off her six inch heels. Especially if she’d killed Eli and dragged Jace into her murderous maelstrom.
She made one more stop before heading back to the office. By the time she arrived at HQ, the sky was darkening, temperatures had plummeted and snow was beginning to fall at a steady clip. To her relief, the reporters were gone. Still, just in case, she used the back door.
She was in the process of taking off her parka when Emmy appeared at her office door, closely followed by Rick. By the eager look on their faces, Cammie knew she’d found something.
“I’m not finished going through everything. It’s going to take me at least another day,” Emmy began as soon as they were all seated in Cammie’s office. “But I did find something that I thought you’d want to know about. By the time Mr. Kelley retired, he was finishing up a five year contract worth over $30 million.”
Cammie sat back in her chair with a thud.
“But according to his financial records, he only had about $5 million left in his bank account when he died.”
“That’s quite a reduction. Any idea why?”
Emmy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Cammie noticed and gave her an encouraging smile. “Let me guess. Sex, drugs and rock and roll.”
Emmy let out a relieved sigh. “Pretty much. That and the medical payments his insurance didn’t cover. However, there are some payments I’m still trying to track down.” She looked down at her steno pad. “There’s no rhyme or reason to them. Sometimes they were for $50,000, some for $100,000. And they weren’t paid at any set time. The last one, which was made about a month before he died, was for $450,000.”
Cammie threw Rick a look. “Blackmail?” They both asked simultaneously.
Emmy shrugged. “He was making payments to a company called Helios Inc. When I looked into Helios, it just exists on paper. Yet, it’s owned by another company and that company is owned by another.”
Rick leaned forward in his chair. “Maybe it was done to dodge taxes.”
“Or maybe it was done to make sure that the identity of the person who was getting the money wouldn’t be discovered.”
“Why kill him?” Rick continued. “With Eli dead, the money would stop.”
“Knowing he was going to die soon, maybe Eli decided to stop paying this person. Person gets pissed and comes after him.”
“Mmmm. Sounds reasonable.”
Cammie gave Emmy an appreciative look. “That’s great work, Emmy.”
Emmy beamed at the compliment. “The cell phone company is sending us copies of Mr. Kelley’s cell and landline activity. They’re fedexing the material so it should get here by tomorrow morning. Or at least when the snowstorm finally ends.”
She flipped through her notes. “As for the people who rented Mr. Kelley’s house, there’s nothing unusual about them. The last tenant was a family of four. They were there for six years before moving last May to Portland. They paid their rent on time and didn’t cause anyone any problems. I also checked on Ms. Haskell’s financial records and credit card payments. There’s no charge on any of her credit cards for a gun. Nor did she ever apply for a license to carry.”
“Maybe she paid cash,” Rick suggested.
Cammie nodded. “Concentrate on the money movement in Eli’s account. That may be the break we’ve been waiting for. Now go home, both of you. This storm is only going to intensify and I don’t need either of you getting into an accident.”
After they’d gone, Cammie picked up the phone and dialed Doc. After four rings, he picked up.
“Doc here,” he answered crisply.
Cammie chuckled. “You know, someday you may get a phone call from someone you don’t know.”
“If they don’t know they’re dialing a doctor’s office, they need more than medical attention. Now what can I do for you?”
“How soon before you can release Eli’s body?”
Under other circumstances, Cammie knew he would come back with a smart ass remark. But knowing the background, he behaved himself.
“I’ve completed all the tests.”
“Eli’s agent wants to arrange a memorial service before the body is cremated. His name is Lehane Tyler.”
“Ah. Send his favorite client home with style.”
“According to Tyler, Eli’s last wishes were that his ashes be strewn over Waban Pond.”
“I suppose that’s fitting. That’s where he got his start, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“How are you doing?”
Cammie hesitated, then sighed. She caught him up on everything that had been going on, finishing with Emmy’s recent discovery.
“That’s promising,” Doc concurred. “I can’t tell you how many people I grew up with who are expert at hiding money trails. If Emmy hits the proverbial brick wall, have her call me. I have some accountant friends who are masters at breaking these financial puzzles.”
She thanked him and hung up.
Moving through the empty office, she glanced out the front window and saw that the snow was accumulating quickly. The wind had picked up, its mournful howl disrupting the quiet of her surroundings. Her internal weather radar had been correct - this was the beginnings of a blizzard. And Twin Ponds’ number one snow plow operator was sitting in a cell.
She chewed her fingernail for a moment. If this was Seattle or Boston or New York, she could never do what she was contemplating. But this was Twin Ponds, a secluded town nestled in the middle of the Maine wilderness. People depended on Jace to plow them out. In many cases, it was a matter of life and death. In the past, it wasn’t unusual for Cammie to go along with him. While he plowed, she checked in on the townspeople, especially the elderly, to make sure t
hey were fine, or had what they needed to survive the storms. Despite the upside down feeling of the last few days, she couldn’t in good conscience allow anyone to get hurt or possibly die because he was in jail.
Yet, deep down, there was another reason – a justification for letting him out of his cell. In the midst of driving snow and long nights, they’d always found an intimacy together, seated side by side in the noisy snowplow. It was hard to talk over the roar of the engine, but with their arms touching, watching the beauty of the snow swirl around them, they were cocooned, surrounded by warmth and a quiet peace between them. She longed to recapture those moments where it seemed they were the only ones awake in a world of snow and wind.
As she made her way to the cells, she wasn’t naïve enough to think this time wouldn’t be different. She was lucky if he’d talk to her. But she at least felt compelled to give him the opportunity to do one of the things he did best.
When she reached his cell, she saw Jace sitting on the cot as if waiting for her. He hadn’t shaved and although his face looked thinner, the bristle on his jaw and cheek gave him an incredibly sexy appearance.
“That wind’s really howling,” he said as its noise filtered in through the walls.
“Yeah. The weatherman got this one wrong.”
“Sounds like a blizzard.”
“Pretty much.” She rested her shoulder against the bars. “How do you feel about going out there and doing some plowing?”
An eyebrow went up and Cammie held her breath, waiting for a sarcastic remark to follow. To her surprise, he shrugged.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said. He then looked down at himself. “Guess these jeans and shirt will just have to keep me warm.”
It was the same jeans and shirt he’d been wearing since the arrest.
“I took the precaution of stopping off at the house and getting you your snow gear.”
“So you knew I’d say yes.”
It was Cammie’s turn to shrug. “I’ll have to come with you,” she warned, then waited again. And again, she was surprised.
“Sure.”
Although careful not to show it, she felt his eagerness to get out of the cell. She handed him his snow gear, hoping that all those hours cooped up in the snowplow together would at least remove the barrier that still existed between them. Or at least wear it down a little.
They’d finished plowing Main Street and were on their way to the smaller communities that lay behind the main thoroughfare. At first Jace remained barricaded behind a wall of silence that matched the wall of snow outside the windshield. Cammie longed to break through, to recapture that intimacy they’d always shared in this cab. But it was no use. She had no words, nothing she could do or say that could puncture the tenseness between them. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that as soon as he’d climbed into his seat, he’d flipped on the radio, filling the cab with loud, pulsating music that soon had Cammie biting her tongue to keep from screaming in frustration.
Jace couldn’t admit how much the music was irritating him. With the noise of the plow and the noise of the radio, he was getting a headache. But the alternative was worse. He couldn’t bear the idea of having nothing fill up the space between himself and Cammie.
He sighed. This woman sitting next to him, this woman a few weeks ago he would have died for, was a complete stranger to him. How was that possible? Had she duped him somehow? Had he been so blind with love that he didn’t realize how secretive and untrustworthy she was?
He certainly realized it now.
Maybe she really was trying to prove him innocent. But then again, maybe she wasn’t. In the past, he thought he could have easily predicted her behavior. However, now he just wasn’t sure anymore. And that is what hurt.
The betrayal he felt was so deep, it seeped acid into his soul. It was becoming impossible to continue to sit next to her. If he was any other type of person, he’d open the door and toss her outside into the blizzard.
But he couldn’t. Just as he couldn’t have killed Eli.
She just couldn’t see that. Fuck, she couldn’t even trust him enough to do a job he could do in his sleep.
He’d once read how close the emotions of love and hate truly were. The worse thing to feel was apathy. Because at that point, you honestly didn’t care one way or the other. What was he feeling? Was it hate? Was it apathy? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the love he’d once felt for her lay shriveled and dying. A hole the size of the Grand Canyon lay open in his chest and he had no idea how to fill it. How to close it.
So he sat, trying his best to ignore her, all the while feeling her presence, her essence, her body jostling next to him.
They were almost an hour into it when she decided it was the time to talk. Leaning forward, she turned down the radio before turning to face him.
“I found out how you got the bruises on your face,” she replied, wanting to speak softly, but having to shout over the roar of the plow.
He said nothing, so she continued on. “Apparently you and Eli got into it in the parking lot across from Zee’s. Carolyn was there as well.”
Silence. Then a sigh. “I figured as much.”
“Oh?”
A lopsided smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “No one else in town would dare give me such a pounding.”
“Do you remember anything about it?”
She saw his jaw clench slightly. “Bits and pieces. He told me I wasn’t good enough for you, or words to that affect. I remember going for him, but obviously I didn’t come out the winner. I do remember something else as well.”
She tried to remain patient as he swung into one of the driveways and started clearing it. Before he could continue the conversation, the front door to the house opened, and old Mr. Wilson stuck his head out.
“Who’s out there plowing my driveway?” he yelled.
Jace stopped the truck and rolled down the window. “It’s alright, Mr. Wilson. It’s me, Jace.”
The seventy year old stared at him in surprise. “That crazy sheriff let you out?”
This time Cammie stuck her head out. “I did. You need anything? Looks like this is going to be a bad one.”
Rather than be embarrassed by his remark, Wilson shook his head. “Glad to see you got some sense to you after all.”
He turned and slammed the door after him.
“Well…” she muttered to herself as she rolled up the window. She looked over to Jace and saw that he was fighting to keep in the laughter. She frowned.
“You were telling me you’d remembered something else?” she prompted, anxious to avoid any remarks about Wilson’s statement.
Jace cleared his throat. “Yeah. I remember stopping twice on my way to Eli’s. Once to take a leak and the other to throw up. After throwing up, I got back into Carolyn’s SUV. I have a memory of colors swirling around me.”
“There was an aurora borealis that night,” Cammie said.
“Ah. That explains it. Anyway, I think I fell asleep for a little while. When I woke up, I managed to get to Eli’s. Then I think I fell asleep again.”
“You don’t remember going into the house?”
“That’s the thing. I’ve tried and tried, but after falling asleep a second time in the SUV, I draw a complete blank.”
At least his statement confirmed Wanda’s version of what happened that night.
“Looks like my attorney isn’t going to make it to Twin Ponds tonight,” Jace mused aloud. “No way Mark Nelsson is going to fly in this weather.”
Cammie felt his disappointment. It meant he was going to have to spend more time in the cell.
“Guess I won’t be playing in tomorrow night’s game after all.”
She automatically raised her hand to offer comfort, but checked herself. His curtain of impenetrability had descended again and this time she had nothing to offer. It was one thing to let him out to plow, it was quite another to let him out to play in a hockey game. With nothing to say, she turned her atten
tion back out to the snow, slowly feeling its icy coldness filling up the cab and the space between them.
By dawn, the storm had settled down to an intermediate snowfall. To the resilient New England Yankees in Twin Ponds, this was considered a light snow, and the streets were soon filled with people going about their business, thanks to Jace and a handful of other snow plow operators who had spent the night opening up the streets and roads.
Emmy came in early with a tray of her delicious homemade raisin chocolate chip cookies. She knew Cammie was having a hard time of it and wanted to do something nice for the sheriff. She was also eager to do something to tweak Rick’s interest. She’d harbored a secret crush on the deputy almost from the first moment she’d begun working at the sheriff’s department. Rick was oblivious to her feelings; he looked at her more as a kid sister. But Emmy held out hope in the way young people do that if she continued to ply him with goodies, he’d realize what a catch she was and drop all his womanizing to concentrate solely on her. She thought to improve her chances by wearing a soft green sweater, black pants and the obligatory green ribbon in her long hair. It was her favorite outfit and she hoped Rick would suddenly realize how pretty she looked in it. The cookies were her back-up plan.
After getting the coffee started and laying out the cookies, she sat down at her computer. Soon her fingers were flying over the keys. Engrossed in her work, she barely noticed when Rick came in. His oohing and aahing over the cookies finally broke through her concentration. Her heart swelled when he complimented her on her artistry with desserts.
“Emmy, you are the Michelangelo of cookie creations.”
She blushed.
He sat down in the chair next to her desk and flicked crumbs off the front of his uniform. “I think Cammie is going to be in a little late today,” he said between bitefuls of his fourth cookie.
“Something happen last night?” she asked, looking up from the screen and taking in his handsome face and long black hair that she’d give anything to run her fingers through. Looking at his mouth, she had to restrain herself from wiping a piece of chocolate chip from his upper lip.
