by Nic Saint
Chapter 31
After dinner, Dee felt like going straight to bed. It had been a long day, and she was bushed. Jim and Eden also didn’t feel like sticking around, and together the two families walked out of the dining room and into the lobby. They paused for a moment in front of the door, gazing out at the world outside, and marveling at the storm that seemed to have reached a fever pitch by then.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” asked Eden. “How a storm like that unleashes these amazing powers? Nature truly is a force to be reckoned with.”
“As long as it doesn’t blow away this motel I’m glad,” said her husband.
“Do you think it will get that bad?” asked Maya, concern lacing her voice.
“Well, they did say winds will pick up to about forty miles per hour.”
“Is that bad?” asked Scott.
“Yup. That’s pretty bad, Scott. Especially with this kind of whiteout. You see, the wind will blow the snow around so that after a while you can’t see a thing in front of your eyes.”
“Better to be nice and warm inside,” said Dee, hugging Baby Jacob close.
“So does that mean I can’t take Ralph out tonight?” asked Scott.
“Well, it is pretty cold out there—even for Ralph,” said Jim kindly.
“But what if needs to go?”
“I think a short potty break will be fine,” said Tom. “In and out, like before.”
“You got to be careful that his paws don’t freeze, though,” said Jim.
“You seem to know a lot about dogs,” said Tom.
“Oh, we had plenty of dogs in our time,” said Eden. “Kids and dogs, right?”
Dee smiled. “Maybe you need to bundle Ralph up, Scott.”
“Bundle him up? You mean, like, dress him up in a sweater or something?”
“Or you could outfit him with little socks to protect his paws,” said Jim.
They all laughed at that, but Dee thought it was not such a bad idea. If Scott was going to take Ralph out in these conditions maybe it was best to dress him up a little. He was a furry dog but even fur wouldn’t be unaffected by these extreme conditions.
They’d moved to the staircase and were mounting them to the second floor. Soon they arrived at their destination and both families said goodbye, Jim and Eden disappearing into their room while the Kellys walked a few doors on to theirs.
And as they settled in for the evening, Dee was happy that for once conversation hadn’t been dominated by the murder case. It was nice to be a regular family again.
Scott had thought about this. In fact he’d thought so hard he’d even neglected his smartphone for once, which just lay there on the nightstand, forlorn and forgotten, its shiny lights blinking each time a message arrived or someone liked something Scott had posted on Snap or Insta or Facebook or even when some app decided to send him another notification.
This idea Jim had put into his head needed seeing through: he didn’t want poor Ralph to freeze to death when he went for his evening poo and wee.
So first he decided to confiscate some of Jacob’s socks—he had plenty to go around, after all—and slipped them on Ralph’s paws. Ralph wasn’t too happy about this sartorial experiment. In fact he tried to remove the pink woolly socks with his teeth. Not that he managed, but he whined about it so much Scott decided to remove them again until it was Go Time.
And then there was the issue of keeping Ralph’s body temperature up. One of Dad’s sweaters would do just fine. As it happened Mom had packed Dad one of his ugly Christmas sweaters—the red one with the reindeer—just because she thought Dad liked them so much and they made him look like a handsome young Santa—Mom’s words, not Scott’s. But Scott knew for a fact that his dad hated those sweaters. He’d heard him say so himself on the phone when he was talking to Grandpa. They’d even laughed about it.
So Scott was actually doing his dad a favor when he snuck the sweater out of Dad’s suitcase while he and Mom were in the bathroom brushing their teeth.
All that was left was something to put on Ralphie’s head, and Scott had just the thing. Grandma had knitted Jacob a little cap when he was born and if he stretched it out a little it was a perfect fit for the big fluffy dog.
So Scott tucked all these supplies into a plastic bag, shoved it under the bed, and then bided his time until Ralph decided he needed his bathroom break.
A recap of The Voice was playing on TV, so he and Maya watched it for a while, then Mom and Dad, too, when they were done in the bathroom, Mom and Maya on one bed and Scott and his dad on the other. The contestants were all pretty much crap today, none of them singing very well, and the worse they sang the more effusive the coaches sang their praises and urged ‘America’ to vote for them. As if anyone was fooled by that lame tactic.
Soon enough the entire family was zonked out, and someone must have turned off the TV at some point for silence reigned in the room, only interrupted by the even breathing of four Kellys and one dog and the occasional snorts of Kelly Number Five—Dad.
Scott was awakened when something was scratching at his arm, which was dangling to the floor.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking into the trusty eyes of Ralphie.
“What’s wrong, boy?” he murmured, rubbing his eyes.
Ralph tilted his head, and gave a soft whimper.
Oh, dang it. He’d totally forgotten to take the dog out!
Excitement shooting through him, he slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Dad, who was lying on his back, his mouth open and producing soft snoring sounds. On the other bed, Maya and Mom were both fast asleep, Maya still clutching her phone as if it was a lifeline to a better and saner world and Mom’s hand on Baby Jacob’s leg, as if to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. And as Scott dragged the bag with Ralph’s winter supplies from under the bed, Jacob made smacking sounds with his lips, Mom muttered something, Maya clutched her phone tighter to her chest, and Dad produced an extra-loud snort.
Scott paused for a moment, but no one woke up, so he slipped his feet into his shoes, shrugged into his thick coat, grabbed Ralph’s goodie bag, and tiptoed to the door, Ralph right by his side, tongue lolling and tail wagging.
Finally. It was Go Time!
Chapter 32
“Come on, boy,” said Scott once he’d closed the door behind him, but Ralph didn’t need any encouragement, already tripping deftly ahead, happy to be out and about again.
The lights were on in the corridor, but then they probably always were, and Scott pulled on his knitted cap with the fleece lining and checked the contents of the bag.
Yep. Ralph was going to be so happy!
They descended the stairs to the lobby, where the Christmas tree was merrily blinking away in a corner, then through the dining room once more and into the kitchen.
Ralph knew the way by now, for he trotted on ahead, then came bounding back, giving soft woofles, as if to say: ‘What are you waiting for, you slowpoke?!’
“Easy, boy,” said Scott, laughing, when Ralph gave him a shove in the backside.
Inside the dining room the lights were doused and Scott figured it was best to keep them that way. So he fired up the flashlight app on his phone and wended his way through the tables. He knew the routine by now, and so did Ralph. Finally they reached the kitchen door that led outside, and Scott crouched down, placed his phone on the tile floor and took out his Dad’s Christmas sweater, Jacob’s socks and Jacob’s cap, then began to outfit Ralph with this assortment of winter clothes. The socks and the cap were a good fit, but the sweater was too big for the dog. So Scott simply tied the arms around Ralph’s belly and finished it off with a nice knot.
“There,” he murmured as he admired his handiwork. “That should do the trick.”
Ralph was staring up at him with a sad look on his furry face, then produced a soft whimper.
“Now don’t you complain,” said Scott. “This is to keep you from freezing to death.”
And then he flung the d
oor wide and the dog forgot all about his predicament and bounded outside, straight into those forty-mile-an-hour winds.
Well, maybe Jim had exaggerated, for the wind wasn’t blowing all that hard. Still, it was pretty chilly out, and there was so much snow in the air that it was hard to see a thing, even with the flashlight app. The light didn’t penetrate beyond a few feet. Ralph, who’d gone bounding off, soon returned, and when he did, it was minus Jacob’s socks, minus Jacob’s knitted cap, and minus Dad’s ugly Christmas sweater!
Oh, boy. If Mom found out Scott had lost that sweater there would be hell to pay!
So Scott ventured out into that terrible whiteout, keeping his head down and shielding his eyes against the wind and the sleet that seemed to slice right through him.
“Where did you lose it, buddy?” he asked when Ralph joined him. “Show me.”
But Ralph had no intention of showing him anything. He probably was glad to be rid of those garments and didn’t want them found. Maybe he’d even buried them where they would never be found.
Scott soon gave up the search. He’d simply come back in the morning, when it was light out, and look for that sweater again. It wasn’t as if Dad would miss it overnight. In fact he never wore it, only when Mom insisted he did.
And as Scott returned to the kitchen door, he was glad to be back inside. Ralph wasn’t all that pleased, and it took a bit of cajoling on Scott’s part to get the dog to toe the line and join him in the kitchen.
All this being outside in that icy cold had made Scott a little peckish, so he directed his phone around the kitchen, hoping the chef had left a nice apple pie out or something. Or even a cheese sub. Or a fruit bowl. No such luck, though. And he balked at checking the freezer. No way was he going in there in the middle of the night when that dead gangster was laid up. For all he knew he was a zombie and came alive at the stroke of midnight!
And that’s when he saw it: the door to the freezer was ajar!
His eyes snapped to that lock, and instantly he knew: someone was in there.
“Quiet, boy,” he whispered to Ralph.
His heart beating a steady drum, Ralph panting next to him, the dog’s coat wet and dotted with tiny bits of snow and ice, Scott switched off his flashlight app, crouched down next to one of the ovens and waited.
Light flashed inside the freezer—whoever was in there had a flashlight thingy just like he had. This was just eerie. Could it be that one of the motel guests had gotten a hankering for a little midnight snack? Or that Chef Kwiek was working on his next-day menus?
Or it could be that someone was taking a peek at Hot Gangster’s dead body!
Scott watched intently for what felt like the longest time, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Then finally there was movement. That flashlight was dancing across the kitchen floor now, and the door to the freezer was closed with a thumping sound. He couldn’t see who the other person was, though, and Ralph was getting antsy, producing a soft whimper.
The figure halted in its tracks, and then they were shining that flashlight all over the kitchen, the beam bouncing across gleaming steel surfaces and appliances and tabletops.
Scott held his breath, not wanting to be caught by this freaky nocturnal prowler.
Not that he didn’t have every right to be here, but a thought had just occurred to him: what if this was the killer, who’d returned to take another look at their handiwork!
After a moment, the prowler seemed satisfied that they were alone and moved through the kitchen and then through the swinging doors and into the dining room.
Scott made to follow, Ralph right on his heel, and glimpsed through the porthole. The prowler had reached the end of the dining room so Scott eased open the door and moved through, along with Ralph, then eased the door back, not wanting it to start swinging. He tiptoed through the dining room, carefully maneuvering along the tables, which were set for breakfast, the light from the lobby guiding his way, and then he was taking a quick peek around the corner, hoping to finally catch a glimpse of this mysterious snoop.
He extended his head like a shy chicken would, and was disappointed when all he saw were two black-clad legs moving up the stairs. Dang it.
“Come on, boy,” he told Ralph. “Let’s see who this creepy crawler is.”
As one, boy and dog moved up the stairs, careful not to be seen or heard, and when they arrived on the landing, Scott looked first in one direction, then the other, and was gratified when he saw the person he was stalking move along the corridor, now in full view.
Whoever it was, they were dressed for the occasion: black leggings, black sneakers, black sweater, black cap. Almost like a cat burglar. Definitely not someone out for a midnight snack. And definitely not Sam Kwiek, who seemed to live in his chef’s uniform.
And as Scott stared daggers at the prowler’s back, hoping to catch a glimpse of his or her face, suddenly the sneaky cat burglar opened a door to the right and disappeared inside.
Darn it!
Scott quickly made his way over, and was surprised to find that the room the night prowler had disappeared into was… 24B!
Chapter 33
Dee was the first one to wake up. She usually was. The moment first light slanted through the curtains, she was up and about. She padded over to the window and peered out. Nothing. Complete whiteout, just like the day before. She sighed. How much longer were they going to have to stay here like this?
She glanced at her husband and son, sharing a bed and sleeping the sleep of the dead. Scott was lying spread-eagle, his limbs indiscriminately thrown in every direction, while Tom was on his back, his arms folded across his chest. He looked like he was ready for his own funeral. Maya was face down as usual, a little string of drool tracing from the corner of her lips to the pillow. The dog, meanwhile, was at Scott’s feet, mimicking his master.
Why was it, Dee thought, that even though they’d gotten the dog as a family, Ralph was most attached to Scott? Maybe because he played with him the most? And gave him the most attention? But it was Dee who fed him and took him to the vet and washed him and gave him his flea tablets.
She shook her head, then moved over to Jacob and rubbed the baby’s belly. Jacob opened his eyes and grinned happily, crowing and wiggling his arms and legs with glee.
He was such a happy baby, and such a quiet one, too. Unlike Scott and Maya, who’d been criers, both of them.
Dee yawned, and thought today might be a great day for Tom to wear his nice new Christmas sweater his mother had made for him. It might cheer them all up. Infuse the day with some of that festive spirit.
She dragged the suitcase from under the bed and started rummaging through its contents. She hadn’t had the energy to unpack yesterday, so they were effectively living out of their suitcases. When she didn’t find the sweater, she frowned. She was pretty sure she’d packed it. Huh. Weird.
When she got up, she saw that Scott was rubbing his eyes and stretching. “You’ll never believe who I saw last night,” he said by way of a morning greeting.
“Last night? Where were you last night?”
“After you guys fell asleep I took Ralph for a walk.” He swung his feet from the bed. “Someone was in the kitchen freezer, so I followed her up the stairs until I could see who it was.”
“Her?”
He nodded, then yawned cavernously. “Christy Cadanet. Dressed in black, like a cat burglar.”
Dee thought about that for a moment. “What was Christy doing in the freezer in the middle of the night?”
“Beats me. Maybe she was saying goodbye to her husband?”
“Maybe. But why sneak around like that? She could have just asked Vernon.”
Ralph, who was wide awake by now, had jumped from the bed and was scratching the door, whining up a storm.
“Make him shut up!” Maya was groaning, burying her head deeper into her pillow. “I want to sleep!”
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead,” said Dee. “It’s almost eight. Time for breakfast.”
Tom was also stirring, but still holding steady in his death pose.
Scott had also noticed the strange phenomenon. “Why does Dad look like Dracula sleeping in his coffin? Does he always sleep like that?”
“As a matter of fact he does. Though to be fair, Dracula sleeps in the daytime.”
Scott had moved to the window and before Dee could stop him, had opened it.
“Huh,” said Scott. “Looks like that blizzard finally gave up.”
“Impossible,” said Dee, and joined her son. But he was right. It was still snowing, but not as hard as the day before. The wind had died down, too, and the world was silent and white but a lot less hostile and scary. She checked the window. It was completely caked with ice, top to bottom, which is why at first glance it looked as if the blizzard was still raging.
Scott was getting dressed. “Guess I’ll take Ralph for a walk again,” he muttered.
“Maya can do it,” said Dee. And when Maya loudly protested, she added, “Scott has been walking him all day yesterday. Fair is fair.”
“Oh, God. I feel like I haven’t slept a wink,” Maya muttered.
“You slept like a log,” said Scott. “I watched you sleep. With that death grip on your phone. Probably kissing that screensaver with that picture of your boyfriend all night.”
“I was not kissing my phone all night! And what were you doing watching me like some kind of pervert, you pervert?!”
“What can I say? I’m a nocturnal creature,” said Scott with a shrug. “I probably got that from Dad, who it turns out is Count Dracula. Who knew?”
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Scott, who was closest, opened it, and immediately Ralph ran out, bumped into Vernon, who was the early visitor, and both man and dog went down in a heap of tangled limbs.
Tom woke up with a snort, rocketed up in bed and yelled, “Hoedown!”
“Oh, boy,” said Scott. “A vampire hoedown at dawn. What a family.”