“This is only speculation, Gabe, but it’s possible you were thrown clear of the crash because you weren’t strapped in,” Agatha said. “Who were you trying to call? Your wife?”
“No wife. Boss. Need to call boss.” He struggled to sit up straighter.
“Take it easy, Gabe.” Agatha pressed her hand firmly to his chest. “Your boss has waited this long, he can wait a little longer.”
“How long?” Gabe asked, searching her eyes.
“That jet crashed almost four months ago,” she said. “You were in a coma for most of it.”
His eyes went wide. That knowledge and the implication of what it meant shocked him.
Gabe struggled. He felt like he was in a dark, deep hole and couldn’t even tell which way to climb.
“Ah, there you are, Gabe,” Dr. Morris said compassionately. “You suddenly slipped away again, back into a light coma. How are you feeling?” She watched Gabe blink several times, and realized he was trying to clear his vision, not trying to communicate. She held the straw to his lips and let him sip as much water as he wanted.
“Pretty,” he whispered.
This shocked her: no one considered her pretty, even … before. It dawned on her she habitually sat to his right where he saw only the right side of her face. She too had been in the stadium and the horrific burns on the left side were still healing.
“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked.
“A laptop,” he whispered.
Chapter Thirty
Gabe balanced Agatha’s personal laptop on his knees. When the contact was too painful, he admitted that to her and she placed the computer on his bed tray and lowered it to a comfortable level, and then left the room.
Gabe searched his foggy memory for the sheriff’s email address. He had always started typing his name and it was auto-filled. He typed in the name, Tom Callahan, then went to the subject line and typed in his own name, knowing that would get the sheriff’s attention.
Before you read any further, I hope you’re sitting down.
This is Gabe Smith, and I’m alive.
I survived the crash and they tell me I’ve been in a coma for four months. The doctor said it was likely I was thrown clear because I wasn’t strapped in my seat when the jet broke apart. I was still burned badly though. I guess I was one of the lucky ones. I don’t know about that yet.
I was out of my seat because I was trying to call you at the time. That investigation Al and I were working on: the harassment-turned-property destruction; I figured it out just before the crash; a clue from my grandfather’s journal. It was one of the guys from Lakeshore Tool Store, but I don’t know which one. That young man, Parker Adams, could be in serious danger.
Gabby Gabe
He signed it like he always did, so his boss would know it was him. He closed his eyes briefly, exhausted. That quiet moment was what he needed to see his bosses email address. He also added his own email address, so it would be in Agatha’s sent file.
Gabe smiled and hit send.
Sheriff Tom Callahan’s computer pinged with an incoming email. Callahan had aged years since he lost half his team four months earlier. He prided himself on not only being their boss, but being a friend to everyone who worked for him. The death of four men at the same time had taken a toll on the man.
He opened the mail site, and sat a bit straighter when the subject line came up. He quickly scanned the email and let out a sob. One of his men was still alive … probably the most important one to him.
He hit reply. The return email was unfamiliar, but he answered anyway with a single line:
Gabe, what hospital are you in?
When the reply came, Sheriff Tom Callahan felt a surge of hope and put in a call to the sheriff’s department in that county, and then to the hospital’s burn unit. And finally, he booked a seat on the next flight to Detroit. March never looked brighter to him.
Sheriff Callahan paced in the outer waiting room. He hated waiting, but he was told to stay put while someone came from the deep recesses of the burn unit, to get him dressed in sterile garb.
“Sheriff, I’m Dr. Agatha Morris. I’ve been Gabe’s doctor ever since he came out of the coma.”
“Are you with him all the time? Do you yourself do his treatments?” Callahan asked.
“I’m with him unless I myself am getting treated. You see, I was there too.” She turned her face for him to see the skin grafting going on. “By having someone treat him that truly does know what he’s going through makes a difference in the recovery time. And Gabe is making great strides. And, yes, I’m with him most of the time; I’ve grown rather fond of him.”
She led him to a glassed-in room where he put on the special, sterile gown and booties.
“Have you been sick in the last two weeks?”
“No.”
“Okay, the mask might not be necessary then. Gabe has been moved out of the quarantine area and is now in the everyday burn unit.” She smiled at his confusion. “We have different levels of care and protocol. Gabe is in the final stage before being released. Even so,” she turned to face him, “I must warn you that his burns were extensive, so be prepared.”
Dr. Morris led Callahan out through another set of glass doors and into a dormitory-style room with six filled beds.
The last of Gabe’s facial bandages had come off that morning. There was scarring, but not nearly as much as he had feared. It was his legs that had suffered the most. He still couldn’t walk, and might never.
“Well, this is one hell-of-a-way to get out of the night shift!” Sheriff Callahan said. The two men stared at each other long enough that Dr. Morris excused herself and stood off to the side.
Tom wiped his eyes. “Damn, Gabe, I thought you were dead. We all did.” He touched Gabe’s arm gently, and was surprised at the strength when Gabe clutched at his hand.
“So did I,” Gabe said with a chuckle. His throat had made great progress. He tilted his head and looked past the sheriff.
“I haven’t told her yet,” Tom confessed, knowing who Gabe was looking for.
“Why not, Tom? You know I don’t have a wife and that my mother and I are very close! I want to see her. I want her to know I’m alive!”
“I’ll tell her, Gabe, I will. She’s my sister and I know what she’s been going through these last few months. In fact, the doctor said you could be discharged. I’m here to take you home, and you can tell her yourself.”
“Excuse me, Sheriff, but Gabe is still my patient, and although he is legally entitled to check himself out of the hospital, I’d like to see he continues to get proper care and treatment,” Dr. Agatha protested.
“Then why don’t you come back with me … I mean us,” Gabe said suddenly, blushing at his blunder.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” she agreed, smiling warmly at him.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Was it really only two weeks ago that the snow stopped?” Parker stared out the window at the quickly diminishing piles of snow. The pathways that had been cleared with the snow blower were bare ground already and that open area was quickly taking hold with only the deep piles left to mark the horrific winter.
“Meltdown comes fast in the woods, but this is setting records,” David admitted. They stepped out onto the still-enclosed porch. The warm March winds tugged at the tarp covering the doorway and he tied it back.
A small river of melting snow cut across the woodshed and dug deep grooves into the driveway before it disappeared into the woods on the other side.
The quiet was broken by the sounds of chopper blades zeroing in on them. The small helicopter circled Parker’s yard and sat down gently on the soggy grass.
The girls came rushing out of the house at the unexpected arrival. The twins were barefo
ot and wearing shorts, just like Jenna. As they approached the settling chopper, a man appeared in the open doorway.
“Parker Adams?” Sheriff Callahan asked, stepping out from the chopper.
“That’s me. What’s going on, sir?” Parker got a lump in his gut; this had to be about Chad.
“Sheriff Callahan?” Jenna stepped out between Parker and David interrupting them.
“Jenna? My God, girl, everyone gave up looking for you months ago!” He reached out and gave her an unprofessional hug. “Have you been here all this time?”
Jenna gave him a quick rundown on what went on over the last four months.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Jenna; I know Mariah was a close friend. When I get back, I will get the team organized and find them.”
“If you didn’t know Jenna was here, Sheriff, why are you here?” Parker asked hesitantly.
“Do you know a Chad McPhee?” the sheriff asked.
“I can’t say that I do,” he answered honestly. “There’s a Chad at the Lakeshore Tool Store where I got some things serviced last fall, but I don’t know his last name and that’s the only one I know. Why?”
“It seems you had filed a vandalism report with Deputy Gabe Smith, who happens to be my nephew, by the way. While he was enroute to a conference, Gabe figured out that it was this Chad who was giving you such grief and he feared you were in danger.
“Ever since this weird snowstorm started, no one has seen Chad. Of course, I also have a list of a hundred other people who have been reported missing.”
“Sheriff, would you like to come inside? You’re standing in -deep water,” Parker said.
They all sat or stood around the kitchen table while the sheriff told of Gabe’s miraculous survival and recovery.
“Wow. Of course, now it makes sense why he didn’t tell me himself. When I last talked to Gabe, he felt that it would all stop once winter started, and it did, so I didn’t give it much more thought,” Parker said, trying hard to not let the lie show on his face. “And I’m really glad Gabe is alive. I’d like to visit him when the roads are fixed.”
“So Chad never showed up here?” the sheriff asked, bringing them back on subject.
“Once that snow started, we had only two visitors. The first was Bob Trudeau, my real estate agent, and then Jenna.” He smiled lovingly at her.
“Tom,” Jenna interrupted, “if I could get lost in the woods during that storm, I doubt this Chad would have made it very far.”
Parker silently breathed a sigh of relief. Without even knowing it, Jenna just backed up his and David’s story.
“That’s true, Jenna.” He turned to Parker again. “You mentioned Bob Trudeau? That name was on my missing list. Do you recall exactly when he was here?”
Parker stood and retrieved his laptop. Scrolling through his notes, he said, “November 15th, and then he and Karlie left the next day.”
“Who is Karlie?”
Parker frowned. “Karlie Coates works at the library. We had two dates and then I broke it off when she became obsessed with me. After getting her car stuck in the snow the morning of the 15th, she conned Trudeau into bringing her here. I made sure they both understood that I had no interest in her and he took her back with him the next morning.”
“Karlie Coates? That name was on my list too, and for more than one reason: she’s a known and convicted stalker.” The sheriff closed his file. “How well did you know Mr. Trudeau?”
“Not very. Like I said, he was the real estate agent that sold my dad this house and he’d been out here a few times to check on how I was doing. Why?”
“Mr. Robert Trudeau’s truck was located a few days ago; halfway down a ravine a few miles east of Three-Shoes. The coroner determined he died on impact from a crushed chest. The female occupant of the vehicle was also dead from an impact head wound. She was approximately five-foot-six and had long auburn hair, and no ID. Does that sound like Karlie Coates?”
“Yes, sir, it does,” Parker said sadly.
“Did you have any other guests, expected or otherwise?” the sheriff persisted.
“No, sir, and Jenna and the twins showed up shortly after that and have been here ever since.”
“I will say that you five have been extremely lucky,” Sheriff Callahan went on. “It’s been brutal in the city. Hundreds have died, either from the cold or starvation. Even now, the churches have organized groups of volunteers that are going door to door. Some find survivors, some are finding corpses.”
“Now what are we going to do about you three?” the sheriff asked Jenna. “Are you ready to leave now? I know a lot of people who are going to be happy to see you, including your parents.” He looked over at the twins.
Parker went pale, pushed away from the table, and leaned against the sink.
“Parker, please. We both knew I would have to go back one day,” Jenna followed and pleaded with him.
“But now? So soon? Jenna, I don’t want you to leave.” The sadness in Parker’s voice brought tears to Jenna’s eyes.
“I have to go back, at least to settle things up. They owe me a lot of back pay!” she joked. “Then I’ll come back here, to you. I promise.”
David looked just as forlorn. “Are you two leaving?” he asked Lily and Helen.
“We have to, David. We’re still underage.”
“—We turn eighteen in June though and then we—”
“—can do what we want!” They both hugged him.
“You better say goodbye to Thag or he’ll be really pissed.”
Helen ran up the stairs and brought the protesting cat down.
“Sheriff Callahan, can you tell us how the roads are? We’ve walked out to county road 150, and where the snow was gone it looked … bad, even for a four-wheel-drive vehicle,” Parker said.
“I think the better term is unstable; it was really washed out,” David added.
“Unfortunately, most of the back roads, like 150, are in really rough shape from all the melt-down flooding. However, with there being a search and … retrieval being launched, it might get repaired much quicker than planned.” The sheriff turned to Jenna. “Do you have any clue where that hunting shack might be?”
Jenna pulled the drape back, exposing the now finished county plat map.
“We’re here right now. Jonathon dropped us off over here.” She moved her hand from one spot to another. She made a wide circle and said, “It must be in this area. Sorry, I can’t get us any closer than that, but it’s a start. If we could get some aerials, that would help a lot.”
“I need one of these maps,” the sheriff said, chortling.
After the helicopter left, taking everyone with them, David and Parker silently took down the plywood protecting the porch. David moved the two remaining bundles of kindling to the near-empty woodshed, while Parker swept the dirt and bark off the edge of the porch.
David came out of the house with two beers and they sat in the rockers, drinking, saying little.
“I guess we’ve come full circle.”
“But what a circle!” David grinned.
“Do you think they’ll be back?”
“Of course they will, Parker! Don’t ever doubt that,” David said emphatically.
David and Parker watched the big road-grader travel up and down their private driveway, smoothing out all the ruts and wash-outs. The driver waved to them on the final pass and kept going down the drive to finish his work on County Road 150.
“We’ll be able to get out of here now,” Parker said.
“You want to go shopping?” David grinned and then laughed.
“We’ll need to resupply at some point. I’m more interested in seeing Jenna,” he explained. “Don’t you want to see Lily and Helen?”
“I sure do!
I think we’ve got a really good thing going and I know they will wait for me,” David said fidgeting.
“Okay, I know that look; what’s on your mind?”
“This is going to sound weird, but I was thinking of asking them to marry me,” David said.
“You can’t marry both of them, David. This is a new age though, and you can have them move in with you and no one would think twice about it,” Parker said.
“Is that what you’re going to do? Ask Jenna to move in with you?” David asked.
“No, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“Why is that so different?” David questioned.
Parker sighed. “Because we’re older and have more experience. You’re still young, David. Those two are your first girlfriends! Give it a year, and then decide.”
“That sounds reasonable. Since they will be starting college in the fall, and I want to finish my doctorate and get my Ph.D., I’m also thinking …”
“You’re thinking you should move to town, right?” Parker guessed.
“Yeah, I think it would be the best thing to do,” David stated. “What are you going to do? Are you going to stay here?”
“I might, for a while anyway. It will depend on what Jenna wants.” Parker put down his half-finished beer. “Right now, other than wanting to see Jenna, I’m in the mood for a really nice steak, maybe some shrimp, or a pizza, and definitely a bottle of wine! Let’s go shopping!”
“I’m going to make a quick stop at the library first, to check email and voicemail. Is that okay with you?” Parker asked David.
“Sure. It’s been months since I’ve checked my banking. I probably should make sure my bills are still being paid.”
They sat together and tended to their personal business. When Parker checked his phone messages, there was only one, from Cliff.
“Parker, I heard from Bob Trudeau and he assures me you are doing well and will be okay for the winter. This weather is something, isn’t it?
Polar Storm Page 17