“Sarah,” Dr. Milton replied in a sincere voice, “a man tried to kill me today. My death will destroy my wife...unless it's through old age. Whoever this evil creature is, I want him caught and arrested. I'll manage this end of town. You just do your job.” Dr. Milton carefully put his hand on Sarah's shoulder. “You have a very strong reputation and now I understand why. Be careful...the both of you.”
Sarah looked into Dr. Milton's eyes and saw a caring man that she wanted to become family with. “We will,” she promised and checked her gun. “June Bug, you're going to need a gun.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Sarah opened the bottom drawer of Conrad's desk and pulled out a small revolver. “Conrad always keeps this gun here as a backup. Let's just hope you don't have to use it,” she said and stuffed the gun into Amanda's coat pocket. “Ready?”
“Ready to be smelly, boss,” Amanda tried to joke and looked at Dr. Milton. “Next time tell our mayor to order heated underground tunnels and leave the sewage out of the picture.”
“Our mayor is too cheap to listen to reason,” Dr. Milton complained.
Sarah smiled, grabbed Amanda's hand, and walked her to the back door. Dr. Milton followed. “Okay, June Bug, the manhole cover leading down into the tunnels is supposed to be right outside the back door. We're going to have to dig around in the snow a bit to find it. Are you okay with that?”
“Do I have a choice?” Amanda sighed.
“Guess not,” Sarah said and focused on Dr. Milton. “Dr. Milton, keep the back door open until we're safely down in the tunnel. We're going to need light.”
“And this,” Dr. Milton said and handed Sarah a snow shovel leaning against the wall near the door.
“And this,” Sarah agreed, taking the snow shovel and patting the container of Ice Melt she planned to sprinkle on the manhole to keep it from freezing shut. She went silent for a second, looked into Amanda’s face, saw a very brave woman, and nodded. “When this case is solved,” she promised, “we'll dress in the prettiest dresses we own, put on the most expensive perfume, wear the brightest jewels, put our hair up and…go eat at the diner.” She giggled at the absurd idea.
“Love,” Amanda said and patted Sarah on her shoulder, “after this you're driving me to Anchorage for a shopping trip. Maybe even Vancouver British Columbia.”
“Fair enough.” Sarah looked at Dr. Milton. “We're ready.”
Dr. Milton wished Sarah and Amanda well and cracked the back door. As soon as the back door was opened, the powerful winds immediately attacked, followed by blinding snow. “Hurry,” Dr. Milton yelled. “The winds will steal your body heat in a matter of minutes.”
Sarah didn't waste a second. She threw her left arm over her face and fought her way out into the storm. Amanda made a brave face, saluted Dr. Milton, and followed after Sarah. “Where do we start digging?” she yelled.
Sarah looked to her left and then to her right. The wind and snow were blinding. “You start digging right here,” she hollered and pointed down at the snow. “I'll get on my knees and start feeling under the snow.”
“I'll feel under the snow...you dig!” Amanda hollered back, unable to even see where to grab the shovel from Sarah.
“Okay!”
Amanda dropped down onto her knees, plunged her hands under the snow, and began feeling around for a manhole cover. “We should be standing on the back sidewalk!”
“We should be,” Sarah yelled and began digging at the snow. Dr. Milton carefully kept his eyes on the two brave women, checking his watch every few seconds. “Anything?” Sarah yelled as the icy winds stole her body heat with hungry teeth.
“All I feel is snow,” Amanda hollered, feeling her fingers turn to ice. “This isn't working! We're going to freeze!”
“Keep trying...we can't give up!” Sarah begged as she continued to dig through the snow. Finally, she abandoned the snow shovel, dropped down onto her knees, and began digging through the snow. “The manhole cover has to be close...I've seen it before...we should be standing right on it!”
Amanda continued to search the snow. “Los Angeles, we're going to freeze!” she screamed. “I can't even see my own hands...the snow is too blinding...the wind is cutting my face in half and...hey...hey!” Amanda yelled, feeling her gloved hands strike something metal. “Get your shovel!”
Sarah grabbed her shovel and began to frantically dig through the snow. “You found it, June Bug!” she triumphantly hollered. They both shook in fear and relief in the dark, swirling snow.
Dr. Milton stepped out to give them a crowbar he had found in the storage room. “You're going to need this!” he yelled.
Sarah turned around and saw Dr. Milton holding a crowbar with his bare hands. “Your hands,” she hollered and quickly took the crowbar. “Get back inside!”
Dr. Milton nodded and hurried back inside. Amanda reached up and took the crowbar from Sarah. “Keep digging, love. We don't have time.”
Sarah went back to digging. It seemed for every shovel of snow she threw to the side, the wind blew two more down on top of them. Her arms began to cry out in pain, growing weaker and weaker. And just when Sarah thought she was whipped, the snow shovel struck metal. “There!” she yelled, out of breath.
Amanda began clearing the remaining snow off the manhole cover with her left hand in its bulky glove while Sarah sprinkled the Ice Melt all around the metal surface. When the snow was clear, she started to feel for a hole to stick the crowbar in. “Come on...I've seen this done in the movies,” she whispered through chattering teeth as ice began to form on her lashes and eyebrows.
Sarah threw the snow shovel down and began to help Amanda. “Here!” she yelled, “here's a hole. Put the crowbar here!”
“Okay!” Amanda yelled back in an excited voice. She jammed the end of the crowbar into the hole Sarah had found and then froze. “Now what?” she cried.
“Give me the crowbar!” Sarah yelled over the howling winds. Amanda relinquished the handle of the tool to Sarah with a guilty look. Sarah closed her eyes, and then, with all of her strength, let out a mighty cry. “Up and over...get off...move...” she cried, using every muscle in her body to pry the manhole cover free.
“Hey!” Amanda shouted, “love, it's moving...you're doing it...there...it's almost off!”
Sarah let out one last cry and managed to lever the manhole cover free. “There!” she yelled and threw the crowbar down and pulled a flashlight out of her pocket. Amanda followed suit. “Okay, June Bug, let's get underground before we freeze!”
Amanda leaned over the dark hole in the ground, turned on her flashlight, and tossed the beam down into a large tunnel that was indeed, to her shock, big enough to drive a truck through. “There,” she hollered and pointed at a set of metal climbing bars embedded in the pipe's concrete. “And...oh my...what a smell!”
“No time to worry about the smell,” Sarah yelled. “At least we won’t freeze to death.” She slid her body into the hole and carefully managed to grip her boots onto one of the metal climbing bars. “We have a killer to catch, June Bug. Let's go.”
Amanda watched Sarah vanish into the dark hole like a brave warrior rushing into battle. “We have a killer to catch...if only the way there wasn’t all stinky,” she moaned and then bravely climbed into the dark hole. As soon as her head vanished, Dr. Milton closed the back door and began praying.
“I've got you,” Sarah called up to Amanda and helped her friend down the last few rungs of the ladder. “Easy does it...there you go.”
Amanda stepped off the last rung and her left boot landed in a stream of raw sewage. “Oh...I'm going to be sick,” she cried and threw her hands over her mouth. “My poor boots!”
“It is foul,” Sarah agreed, holding her left hand over her own mouth. “Let's not stand around. Come on.”
“Are you sure you know the way?”
“According to the map, this tunnel connects to the pipe running down the street the O'Healeys live on,” Sa
rah explained, fighting back the urge to vomit. “This isn't one of my better ideas, is it?”
“No, it isn't,” Amanda agreed.
Sarah aimed her flashlight to her right and studied the tunnel. The vast stretches of the tunnel loomed on either side of them, smelly and slippery with icy trickles of sewage and water, and still very cold...but navigable. Most importantly, it was out of the White Killer storm. “Let's go, June Bug. The sooner we're out in the cold air, the better.”
Amanda grabbed the back of Sarah's coat and followed her friend through the tunnel as they worked their way through the sewage, trying to walk to the side whenever possible. Amanda didn't say a word as they walked a long distance, then Sarah stopped and aimed her light up a manhole cover. “Is this it?” asked Amanda.
“Yeah. And look,” Sarah said and threw her flashlight at the side of the tunnel. “Each pipe has a street name labeled near the manhole covers. According to that street name, we should be right under the street the O'Healey sisters live on.”
“Then let's get out of here before I lose everything I've eaten today,” Amanda begged.
“I'm with you,” Sarah replied and hurried up a set of metal rungs and began pushing at the manhole cover. “The snow...is making it...heavy...but if I keep pushing...” Sarah stopped, tossed her flashlight down to Amanda, and began fighting with both hands. She had not reckoned on the weight of the storm’s snow on top of the manhole cover. Finally, the heavy metal circle began to grind and shift above them. To Amanda's relief, snow began falling down onto her face. “Almost...there...got it!” Sarah grunted out and managed to push the manhole cover far enough to the side to allow them room to squeeze out and escape. She drew in an exhausted breath before she eased her head up into the storm. “Remind me to take a vacation after this.”
“What do you see?” Amanda asked in an urgent voice.
“The O’Healey sisters’ cabin with lots of lights on,” Sarah replied and, without wasting a second, crawled out into the storm. “Come on!” she yelled down to Amanda. “We have a killer to catch!”
Amanda shoved the flashlight into her pocket, hurried up the last few metal rungs, and exploded out into the storm. “Oh…sweet, fresh air...fresh, icy air...come to momma before you turn mean,” she whispered and raised her face up at the stormy sky. “Clean my lungs...”
As Amanda drew in fresh air, Sarah pulled out her gun and studied the deluxe cabin shining out into the dark storm with windows full of warm lights. “Time to be a cop,” she said, feeling pride enter her heart and adrenaline animate her limbs. “This is for you, honey,” she promised Conrad and began fighting her way through the storm drifts, one brave step at a time.
The brutal winds nearly knocked Amanda down to the ground. She could barely see her hand shading her own eyes from the snow that felt like broken glass digging into her skin, even through her gloves. The lights glowing in the cabin looked like blurry dots far beyond reach. “Are we there yet?” she cried out.
“Almost,” Sarah called back, holding Amanda's other hand as tightly as possible and feeling the wind stealing her body heat with every passing second. “We're going to move around to the side of the cabin and look through a window.”
Amanda groaned. “I'm frozen solid, love,” she yelled, struggling through knee-deep snow. “I don't think I can last much longer, so we better hurry.”
Sarah navigated past a tall tree, worked her way to the side of the cabin, and paused at a window. Reluctantly, she let go of Amanda's hand, placed her own hands to the window, and peered into a bright and warm kitchen. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, she spotted Jenson O'Healey sitting at a kitchen table drinking coffee and eating a bowl of soup. Abigail was with him. “He's in there,” she whispered and quickly turned to Amanda. “Jenson is inside,” she said over the winds. “Go to the back door and start knocking as loud as you can. Don't stop until someone answers the door. Make sure you yell 'Police' as loud as you can...over and over and over.”
“I'll try,” Amanda promised through shivering teeth. “My eyelashes feel like they're freezing stiff...I've never been so cold in all of my life.”
“Hang tough,” Sarah begged. “I'm going to the front door to wait for Jenson to run.” Sarah checked her gun and nodded. “Make sure you yell 'Police' as loud as you can, June Bug. I need you to make Jenson run right into my trap.”
Amanda slapped ice off her eyebrows with her gloved fingers. “I'll...try,” she promised and looked toward the back of the cabin. “I can barely see...but...we're a team.” And with those words, feeling like an iceberg floating in a frozen, white sea, Amanda tucked her head down and began trudging toward the back door. Sarah, feeling like an iceberg herself, turned her face into the howling winds and fought her way toward the front of the cabin.
“Why me?” Amanda moaned in misery as she took one painful, frozen step after another through the deep snow. “Alaska, my hubby said...the land of untamed beauty...Sure, Alaska is beautiful...and I do love the snow...but oh, this storm...will be…the death of me.” Amanda rounded the back of the cabin and spotted a light glowing over the back door. “Almost there...keep moving...be tough...think of pretty dresses and pretty hats...warm days...pretty dresses...pretty hats...warm days,” she whispered through chattering teeth. “Almost there...back door in reach...keep your eyes shielded...pretty dresses...hot coffee...why me...pretty dresses...” Amanda dared to raise her eyes and was shocked to find that she was standing right at the back door. “I did it,” she exclaimed, feeling hope enter her heart.
Without wasting a second, she knocked more ice off her hair and eyebrows and began beating on the back door with both her gloved hands clenched into fists. “Open up!” she hollered at the top of her lungs in a deep voice, “it's the police...open up! Police! Open up. Can you hear me in there? This is the police. Police! Open up…open up!”
Jenson heard Amanda pounding on the door. Then he heard the words “Police! Open up” spill into the kitchen, faint but audible. He jumped up from the kitchen table like a child fleeing a monster lurking in a dark closet, spilled his coffee and knocked the bowl of soup Abigail had prepared for him all over the kitchen floor.
“Jenson!” Abigail cried out in shock, “what in the world has gotten into you? It's only my good friends. They've probably come by to check on me because of the storm.”
Jenson, who acted tough and intimidating only when he could bully innocent people or hurt someone without being harmed himself, snatched a black coat off the nearby wooden coat rack and threw it on. “Listen, old lady,” he growled through gritted teeth, abandoning the nice grandson act, “I was never here, do you hear me?”
Abigail stared at Jenson in shock. Her loving grandson had suddenly turned into a frightening monster that sickened her—and scared her. “Jenson, what on earth—”
“I wasn't here, old lady,” Jenson snapped and bolted out of the kitchen and made his way toward the front door.
“Oh dear,” Abigail said in a shaky voice. She stood up, hurried to the back door, unlocked it, and pulled the door open. Amanda quickly stumbled inside and nearly collapsed. “Oh my,” Abigail cried and forced the back door closed against the winds.
“Need to...sit down,” Amanda begged through a frozen-stiff jaw and chattering teeth.
Abigail grabbed Amanda's elbow and helped her over to the kitchen table. Amanda stepped in the spilled soup and nearly slipped but managed to sit down in a chair. “I’m so sorry about the mess. My grandson...” Abigail began to speak but stopped as tears began falling from her eyes. “Oh my...”
Amanda grabbed Abigail's hands. “Sarah will bring him back,” she promised and then shot to her feet, remembering. “Have to help my girl...sit tight.”
Outside in the snow, Sarah positioned herself on a snow-covered front porch. She dropped down onto one knee, aimed her gun at the front door, and waited. “Come on out,” she dared Jenson in a muttered whisper, trying to ignore the cold. To her delig
ht, seconds later, Jenson obeyed. The front door jerked open and Jenson appeared, frantic to escape. He didn't spot Sarah. His eyes were locked on the dark night. “Freeze!” Sarah yelled and fired a warning shot up into the air. The bullet struck the roof of the porch and worked its way through, loosening a small avalanche of snow onto their heads before it rocketed away into the storm.
“Don't shoot!” Jenson cried out in confusion, covered in a dumping of snow. He threw his hands up into the air. “Don't kill me...please!” He blinked madly, unable to see.
Sarah bolted up and aimed her gun right at Jenson's chest. “Back inside, move!”
Jenson backed up to the front door and then, out of a mad desperation, pawed the snow away from his face and tried to run at the last minute. He was greeted by Amanda.
“I don't think so, you filthy monster,” Amanda growled and aimed her gun at Jenson's face. “I can't miss from this distance.”
Jenson froze, staring at the gun, and tried his best not to wet himself. The suave intellect with wavy black hair and good looks saw his plans destroyed and the law closing in, and he caved like the coward and fake that he was. “Don't kill me,” he begged. “Oh please, don't kill me.”
Sarah guided him back inside, with Amanda backing her up. Sarah stepped inside the foyer and slammed the front door closed. Even though she was frozen solid and her body was crying out in pain, she managed to stay on her feet and remain in full control. “Lie down on the floor, on your belly, like the coward you are, with your hands behind your back.” Jenson quickly obeyed. Sarah handed Amanda her gun, pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her coat pocket, and slapped them on Jenson. “Alright, on your feet.”
Jenson crawled back to his feet, which wasn't easy. His knees trembled and his eyes darted around the room in terror and confusion, unsure of what to do. He looked at Sarah and Amanda, wondering how two small-town, backwoods lady cops had outsmarted him. While wearing dresses, nonetheless. The storm, he thought, should have kept the entire police department under lockdown. But there was no sense crying over spilt milk, Jenson told himself. He had to figure out a way to escape. “What is this...what is this all about?” he asked, playing up his tremors of cold as if they were genuine terror, wanting to appear as much a victim as possible.
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