Miss Frost Braves the Blizzard

by Kristen Painter

  “All right then.”

  We headed into the conference room and sat. Sheriff Merrow came in last and was about to shut the door when Birdie came in.

  He looked at her. “Don’t you need to answer the phones?”

  “The service can pick them up.”

  “Birdie, we’re in the middle of a crisis here. The phone needs to be answered. I promise to fill you in when we’re through, but I need someone with your capabilities out there making sure things are handled properly.”

  I tried not to take that as a comment on my lack of capabilities, but I wasn’t too proud to admit when I sucked at something.

  “And there are doughnuts out there,” Sinclair added.

  Birdie gave that a few seconds of thought. “You’re right, Hank. I’m on it. But you’d better tell me what’s going on when you’re done.”

  “I will. Also, Cruz and Blythe are on duty, and we’ve got Titus and the fire department out there, but call some of the regular volunteers and see who else is available. We need all the help we can get.”

  “Okay.” She left.

  My stomach rumbled. “I wish I’d grabbed a doughnut.”

  Sinclair got up. “I’ll get you one. Anyone else?”

  “I’ll take one, thanks,” Nick said.

  “I will too.” The sheriff rubbed his forehead. “Left the house before I could eat.”

  “Be right back.” Sinclair left.

  I turned to the sheriff. “So what’s going on?”

  He sat back. “It’s Nick’s story to tell.”

  Nick rested his hands on the table. “I was doing the flyover, looking for anyone trapped by the weather, and I went over a house that looked very different than the rest. It was hard to tell exactly what I was seeing in the dark. I can see just about as well as any supernatural at night, but with the snow swirling around, visibility was tough and I was focused on finding people, not patterns in the snow. I went lower for a better look.”

  He took a moment. “The house below me was almost completely devoid of snow and ice, unlike every other house I’d flown over. And more than that, the snow around it looked like it had cratered.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean, cratered?”

  He flattened his hand on the table. “Like the house had been dropped into the snow and blown the loose, top layer away. It was all pushed out from the house in sort of a regular pattern.”

  I had no idea what that meant. “How odd.”

  “Very,” Nick said.

  Sinclair came in carrying the box of doughnuts. He opened the lid and put the box in the center of the table, then took the seat next to me. “What did I miss?”

  The smell of sugar instantly made me happier.

  Sheriff Merrow took a doughnut. “Nick found a house during his flyover that had very little ice or snow on it and has a weird pattern in the snow around it. Only one like it he saw.”

  “Strange,” Sin said.

  “Totally.” I grabbed my favorite, the Dr Pepper doughnut, knowing Sin had put it in the box especially for me. “Maybe it’s just a side effect of how quickly things froze over.”

  Half of the sheriff’s glazed doughnut was already gone. “Have you ever seen anything like that in the North Pole?”

  “No. Not that I can think of.”

  Nick took a doughnut. “Could you create something like that with your kind of magic?”

  “Sure, I suppose I could. It wouldn’t be that hard, really. It’s just a pattern in the snow, right? But who would have done it to that house? Because I didn’t.”

  “We know you didn’t,” the sheriff said. “But someone, or something, did, and because of the house it’s at, it raises some questions.”

  A weird feeling filled my stomach. “It’s Myra’s house, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “And we’d like you to come with us when we go back inside.”

  They were right about the pattern. It looked exactly as if the house had been picked up and dropped, causing the snow to fluff out around it in a kind of flower petal effect. It was pretty, actually. But the strangeness of it, and the strangeness of Myra’s house being the only building in town that wasn’t plastered with snow and ice, made it hard to admire.

  The furls of snow extended out almost to the sidewalk, which was where Sheriff Merrow, Sinclair, and I stood. Nick had gone back to work helping free people and businesses from the grip of this weather.

  And even though the sun was up, the day remained gray and windy, and the flurries showed no signs of letting up. The plows were working overtime and still falling behind. I pulled my scarf a little tighter and was thankful that both the sheriff and Sin had put snow chains on their tires.

  I stared at the lines of swirled snow extending from the house. I imagined they’d been sharper before they’d been covered with a fresh layer of powder. “I almost hate to walk through it.”

  The sheriff opened the gate in the picket fence and strolled through, his boots destroying the pattern. “That help?”

  I snorted. “Yes.” I trailed after him, then Sin after me.

  We stomped our feet off on the porch. I looked around. “I thought you sent Deputy Jansen over here to put police tape up. So Myra’s great-nephew wouldn’t go into the house.”

  The sheriff grunted. “Must have come down with the snow.” He glanced over the porch railing. “Don’t see it, though.”

  I didn’t either. “It could be under the snow.” It had covered everything. “Wait, there’s a piece of it.”

  I bent and fished out a small section of yellow police tape. It looked like it had been chewed through. “I wonder what happened to the rest of it.”

  “Maybe it blew away.” The sheriff unlocked the door and grunted again as he went in. “The great-nephew, or someone, has been here.”

  I walked in behind him. The house was as cold inside as it was out. “Wow. I’d say. If not him, then maybe looters.”

  The place, which had been neat as a pin yesterday, looked like a whirlwind had blown through. Cabinets and drawers were open, papers strewn about, and knickknacks tumbled about. The kitchen was just the same. Even the fridge was open. Although there didn’t appear to be anything edible inside other than condiments.

  Sin let out a whistle. “What a mess.”

  The sheriff took a long look around. “But there’s a method to this chaos. Whoever was here was looking for something.”

  “Then I need to go to the basement.” I headed in that direction, practically galloping down the stairs. “Son of a nutcracker.”

  The cabinet was wide open. And the snow globe lay shattered on the concrete floor, its glass in a hundred pieces. The water that had been inside was now frozen in a puddle the size of a dinner plate.

  The faint smell of marsh permeated the room. Like seafood on the verge of going bad. Weird. I let out a sigh as Sin and Sheriff Merrow joined me. “So much for that. At least I can return what’s left to my dad. You think it was accidental?”

  “Hmm.” The sheriff sighed and clicked the radio on his shoulder. “Birdie, get me Jansen.”

  I glanced at him. “You think the deputy knows something?”

  “He was acting squirrely when he returned from taping this place.”

  Birdie came back with a, “Ten-four.”

  The sheriff’s attention shifted to the shelves around us. He picked up one of the jars of preserves. The jar was empty, but very messy with gobs of jam stuck to the outside. “Whoever was in here must have a sweet tooth.”

  I turned to look. Every single jar of preserves had been cleaned out. At least, the ones that remained were empty. I could have sworn there were jars missing. Some of the jars were broken. Most lay on their sides, sticky with the remains of the jam they’d held. “It could be Nate. Especially if he’s related to Myra. Winter elves love sweets.”

  “If she’s a winter elf,” the sheriff added. “But he wouldn’t be. He’s her great-nephew, not her grandson.”

  “Even so, he’d been tr
aveling and was tired. That jam might have seemed like the perfect pick-me-up.” It was the only thing I could come up with.

  One of the sheriff’s brows went up as he gave me an odd look. “You ever eat jam straight out of the jar, Miss Frost?”

  That felt like a terribly personal question. “Maybe.”

  He looked at the jar in his hand, then the stairs, then back at me. “You wouldn’t go up to the kitchen and grab yourself a spoon? Maybe toast some bread and slather it on a few slices?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. A hungry winter elf can do a lot of strange things in the name of that hunger.”

  Sin chuckled under his breath.

  The sheriff put the empty jar back on the shelf and let the winter elf comment go. “I’ll take your word on that.” He put his hands on his belt, then turned to look into the cabinet. “Anything else gone?”

  I studied it a second. The little piece of crystal was still there. So was the commemorative cup. And the stacks of papers and the trinket boxes. “As far as I can tell, the snow globe is all that was moved.”

  “All right.” He gave me a little nod. “You want those broken pieces, you can take them.”

  “Even though there’s been no magistrate decision?”

  “I’ll handle it.” His radio squawked with an incoming call.

  “This is Deputy Jansen.” He sounded nervous.

  The sheriff answered. “Deputy, you know anything about the broken snow globe at Myra Grimshaw’s?”

  “Um, about that…” There was an audible gulp. “I’m real sorry, Sheriff. I only wanted to look at it and it just slipped. I didn’t mean to drop it.”

  The sheriff’s expression went stony. “My office. Later.”

  “Yes, Sheriff.”

  He sighed as he let go of the radio. “That answers that. I’m very sorry, Miss Frost. If you tell me what that globe was worth, the department can reimburse you.”

  “Getting the pieces back is plenty.” I had a feeling that’s all my dad would care about. “And don’t worry about it being broken. Could have happened to any of us.” I felt oddly happy about it. After all, a broken snow globe was an unusable snow globe. It seemed to me the threat of it falling into the wrong hands had been nullified by Deputy Jansen’s fortuitous accident. Unless there were more snow globes in the wild that shouldn’t be. I needed to check on that with my dad, too.

  Sinclair glanced around the room. “Still no telling what caused that weird pattern around the house.”

  “Pretty sure Jansen isn’t to blame for that,” the sheriff said. “Best go look around upstairs a bit.”

  While they talked, I grabbed an old copy of the Tombstone, the local Nocturne Falls paper, from a stack on one of the shelves and crouched down to put the remains of the snow globe into it. I wasn’t sure if returning it to my dad mattered anymore now that it was broken, but I figured it would at least wrap the issue up.

  I gingerly pinched the first shard of glass and—nothing. It didn’t budge. I gave it a wiggle. Still nothing. Not even a crack in the ice it was frozen to. “Huh.”

  “What’s that?” Sin asked.

  I stood up empty handed. “That snow globe puddle is really frozen to the floor. Maybe the cement is super cold because there’s nothing beneath it but ground. I’m going to have to use a little magic to get this free.”

  I reached my hand out to melt the ice, throwing a burst of power at it. The magic bounced right back at me, sending a shock wave through me and knocking me off my feet.

  Sin caught me as I tumbled backward. “Whoa there, you okay?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” I held on to him as I straightened. A small trickle of magical energy pulsed down my spine and made me shiver. Talk about weird. My ears were ringing. Like the sensation was still rattling around in my head.

  “What happened?”

  I shrugged as I studied the ice puddle. “I’m not sure. It’s like my magic recoiled at me. Then went through me.”

  The sheriff came down two steps. “Has that ever happened before?”

  “No.” My knees buckled, but I still had hold of Sin. “Really took the stuffing out of me.”

  Sinclair’s arms went a little tighter around me. “I’ve got you, babe.”

  “Something’s going on here.” Sheriff Merrow squeezed the radio on his shoulder. “Birdie, come in again.”

  “I’m here, Hank.”

  “Which deputy is closest to Myra Grimshaw’s?”

  She was quiet a second. “Besides Jansen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jenna.”

  “Send her over here.”

  “Roger that. Oh, also, Nate Grimshaw just called. He’s stuck outside of town at the Pinehurst Inn until the roads are passable.”

  The sheriff spoke to us. “That means we won’t be able to serve him until we can reach him.” Then he squeezed the radio again to answer Birdie. “Call the proprietor. Find out what time he checked in and let me know.”

  “On it.”

  The sheriff looked at us. “Sinclair, get Miss Frost home, will you?”

  “Absolutely.” He looked at me. “You should probably get some rest.”

  “I’m fine.” Maybe not fine, but I wasn’t about to keel over dead or anything.

  “Even so,” the sheriff said. “I’d feel better if you took it easy today. I’m going to stay here until my deputy comes, then she and I are going to secure this house. It’s officially off-limits until we know what in blazes is going on here. Then I plan on having a talk with Mr. Grimshaw.”

  “Well, I’m going to have another talk with my dad when I get home.”

  “Good.” The sheriff hooked a thumb on his utility belt. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  A short while later, Sin pulled his SUV to the curb outside the warehouse. I was really glad my dad had okayed keeping the shop closed. I was beat from running on so little sleep. And maybe also from the weird, magical whiplash.

  “Look at that,” Sin said. “The weight of the snow and ice bent that lamp pole.”

  “Yeah, about that…that’s not storm damage. Not the way you might think.”

  He looked at me. “What then?”

  I told him about levitating the mini-glacier out of my apartment and accidentally crunching the pole.

  He shrugged. “It can be fixed. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

  My brows shot up. “Shouldn’t you at least buy me dinner first?”

  He laughed. “To sleep.”

  I grinned. “I know.” We’d agreed to take things slow, and I was happy about that. Getting involved too fast could end up with my heart in as many pieces as that snow globe. And yes, I was a little hesitant after Cooper and Greyson, but then, who wouldn’t be?

  “All right, let’s get you settled, make sure everything is okay, and then I’m going to run home. I need to check on my shop and Sugar.”

  “Is your store on the grid that got emergency power from the town generators?”

  “Yes, and that emergency power is great, but it’s not enough to do much more than keep the walk-ins going and some heat on.”

  “Our generator does a little more than that, but it’s not enough to power the elevators. I’m thankful I don’t live on the third floor.”

  He snorted, and I remembered he lived on the second and didn’t have an elevator at all. I turned toward him. “Hey, my couch pulls out to a sleeper. Why don’t you pack a bag and bring Sugar over here? At least until they get the main power back on. Which will probably be tomorrow. What do you think?”

  His eyes narrowed like he was considering it. “You really think you’re ready to shack up with me?”

  I laughed. “It’s not shacking up. It’s conserving energy. Pooling resources. Making the best of a bad situation with neighborly kindness.”

  He was trying not to laugh. “Neighborly kindness, eh? Why do I get the feeling you’re going to expect me to cook?”

  I pursed my lips. “Um, maybe because you�
�re so much better at it? So yeah, bring food.”

  “Oh, my sweet Jayne. Never change.” He hopped out of the car and came around to open my door and help me out.

  We went inside and trudged up the steps slower than I’d hoped, but as it turned out, that magical blow had definitely weakened me. So much so that he insisted on carrying me up the last flight and into my apartment.

  He put me on the couch, fixed me a cup of hot chocolate, then kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, call me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And try to get some rest.”

  “I will, but I have some texts to send and calls to make.”

  “After that then.”

  I felt very well looked after. “Take that key by the door. The one with the Christmas tree keychain. It’s for the warehouse door. Then you can come and go as you please.”

  “Thanks. See you in a bit.” He grabbed the key, blew me a kiss and slipped out.

  I would have loved to nap until he got back, but I really did need to take care of a few things. First, I texted my employees that the store would be closed until the weather improved.

  That also meant that dinner at the Poisoned Apple this evening was canceled. That was a bummer, but we could do it another time. I’d still make sure everyone got their bonus check.

  Second, I had to call my dad. I leaned over, picked up the snow globe from the end table and gave it a shake.

  My mom answered. “Hi, honey. Oh, Jaynie, you look tired. What’s wrong?”

  I explained to her what was going on and how long I’d been up.

  “No wonder you look beat.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad said I could keep the shop closed until this power outage is over, so I’ll be napping as soon as I talk to him. Where is he, by the way?”

  “Just coming in from the stables. He and Uncle Kris were meeting with the stable master about new tack for the reindeer.” She glanced off screen. “Honey, it’s Jayne.”

  My dad leaned in and kissed my mom, then took over the chair as she vacated it. She waved over his shoulder. “Talk to you soon, honey. Get some rest now.”

  “I will. Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, Jaynie.” I saw her shake her head at my father. “Jack, you smell like manure.”