Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2)

by M. Z. Andrews

“Oh, is that right?” said Lane, his face reddening.

  Evanee slipped her hand into Lane’s and squeezed it tightly. She wasn’t sure if she did it to comfort him, comfort herself, or keep him from doing something stupid. Whatever the reason, she felt reassured when she felt Lane’s strong, calloused hand squeeze hers back.

  “Yup,” said Calvin, giving a little nod. “But he enned up gettin’ the girl inna end.”

  Lane winced. “Mmm, not really, Calvin. You know that girl died, right? In a fire.”

  Calvin’s eyes suddenly were glossy. His head bobbed. “I know, she died.”

  Suddenly, Evanee felt like she knew what to do. She squeezed Lane’s hand and then let go. She took a step towards Calvin, but Lane grabbed hold of her elbow.

  “Evanee, no,” he whispered.

  Evanee looked him right in the eye and gave him a smile. “It’s okay,” she mouthed to him. Then she turned back around and walked slowly towards Calvin. Kneeling next to the man, she put her hand gently on the back of his shoulder.

  “It hurts that she’s gone, doesn’t it, Calvin?”

  Calvin’s head snapped sideways to look at Evanee curiously, like her softness had caught him off guard. Slowly, his head tipped forward, and then a tear managed to spring loose from his eyes and rolled down the scar on his cheek.

  “You remember that night like it was yesterday, don’t you?” she said softly.

  Calvin ground the palm of his grungy hand into his eyes as his head bobbed up and down like a small child. “Yes,” he whispered. “I get nightmares.”

  “You actually loved her, didn’t you?”

  “Evanee,” hissed Lane.

  Evanee glanced up at Lane. She could tell he didn’t like her being soft with him, but it was working. The man needed a little compassion after all these years. Clearly Rachel’s death haunted him.

  “I loved her a lot,” he said. “Maybe more’n Steve did.”

  “You knew they were married?” asked Evanee.

  Calvin’s lips tightened, and his eyes swung down towards the ground. “Mm-hmm.”

  “And you knew they had a baby?”

  “I know,” he whispered. “It shoulda been my baby, and she shoulda been my wife.”

  Evanee glanced up at Lane then. She was sure that wasn’t going to sit well with him, so she was surprised to see him listening cautiously, but reining in his temper. She was proud of him in that moment.

  “Calvin,” said Evanee calmly, “do you remember where you were the night of the fire?”

  Calvin tipped his head sideways. “I’s over at the Sports Stop for a while,” he said with a bit of a shrug.

  “Then where did you go?”

  Calvin looked over at Evanee then. “I dunno.”

  “You do know, Calvin. Think for me.”

  His eyes pinched shut and more tears flowed down his cheeks. “I don’ wanna think. Hurts ta think.” He rubbed his eyes with the arm of his shirt and then swiped his drink off the table and took another swig of his magic elixir.

  “Is that why you drink, Calvin? So it doesn’t hurt to think?”

  “Maybe,” he whispered.

  “Hey, Calvin, how’d you get those scars on your cheeks?” she asked gently.

  His hands went to his cheeks then, as if his scars suddenly burned his face. “Scars?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I dunno,” he mumbled. “I woke up an’ I had ’em.”

  “And you have no idea how you got them?”

  His eyes widened and his head shook, like a child telling a lie to his mother. “Uh-uh.”

  “Calvin,” purred Evanee, “I know you know how you got the scars.”

  Calvin swallowed hard and then broke eye contact with Evanee. “I don’ know,” he said solemnly.

  Lane stepped forward then. “Bull. You know exactly how you got those scars, Calvin.”

  Evanee watched as Calvin’s eyes flicked up to look at Lane. Fear was in them now. “Lane!” hissed Evanee. She shook her head at him. “No.”

  Lane’s face was red as he swiveled around in the gravel, his arms slamming down by his sides.

  “Calvin, did you see Rachel before the fire?”

  Calvin’s head shook.

  “Did you have anything to do with the fire that killed Rachel?”

  “I didn’t kill her,” he whispered.

  “Calvin, she left those scratches on your face, didn’t she?” asked Evanee.

  Calvin’s hands touched his cheeks again. Tears poured out of his eyes then, but his lips pressed together tighter. It was as if he’d vowed never to speak of it.

  Evanee glanced up at Lane. He was off muttering under his breath, obviously upset. “Calvin, you can tell us. We aren’t going to tell anyone else,” she begged.

  Suddenly, Calvin seemed to snap out of whatever trance he’d been in. He looked at Evanee with new eyes. “Who’re you?”

  She touched her fingers to her chest. “My name is Evanee. That’s Lane Dawson.”

  “Dawson?” His back straightened.

  “Yes.”

  “Steve’s boy?” he asked.

  Evanee nodded as Lane froze in the driveway. “Yes. Steve’s boy.”

  “You should go,” he suddenly said. He stood and kind of shied away like he was suddenly afraid of Lane.

  “But, Calvin, we just want to know where you were the night of the fire that killed Rachel.”

  But Calvin was already off walking towards the trees bordering his property. “Ya hafta go,” he hollered back. “I don’ wanna talk ta ya.”

  “But, Calvin!”

  “Go ’way!”

  Lane threw his arms up. “Great.”

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Evanee, her heart heavy now. She wondered if she’d pressed too hard, if that was what had snapped Calvin out of the alcohol-induced haze or if it was Lane’s interruption that had done it.

  Lane sighed and then walked over to Evanee to throw his arm over her shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I pushed too hard,” said Evanee. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Ev. You tried, and you probably got further than I would have.”

  “Are you kidding? I didn’t get anywhere with him,” she sighed.

  “We couldn’t have expected a full confession,” said Lane. “That would’ve been too easy.” He shook his head. “No, I think what we got is better. He’s guilty. It’s written all over his face. He all but said that he’s an alcoholic because he can’t think about what he did to my parents. We just have to figure out how to prove that it was him.”

  “But how do we do that now that he’s clammed up on us?”

  Lane shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do.” He squeezed her shoulder again. “In the meantime, I think this case has us wound up a little too tight. And I don’t know about you, but it’s too hard to think feeling this stressed out. I feel like blowing off a little steam. How about you?”

  Evanee sighed. She desperately needed to blow off a little steam. Fall was her favorite season, but this case had her on edge and she’d barely been able to enjoy the cooler temperatures. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Do you have some time to spare this evening?”

  She shrugged, and her mind went back to Whitley, Esmerelda and Prim. She’d left them home alone again and they’d been nothing if not annoyed by it. “Well, I promised my cats we’d do something tonight when they were upset they didn’t get to come out with us.”

  He lifted a brow. “You really are attached to your cats, aren’t you?”

  “Crazy as it sounds, they’re my life,” she admitted with a half grin.

  He chuckled. “That’s not so crazy. My best friend is a chicken.”

  “A chicken?”

  With a twinkle in his eyes, he nodded. “Yup. So if I’m willing to run you hom
e to pick up your cats, are you in?”

  Evanee ran a hand through her hair. Dare she blindly say yes? “It’s nothing crazy, is it?”

  “Depends on your definition of crazy.”

  She smiled at him. “Oh, fine. I’m in.”

  27

  “So are you going to introduce me?” asked Lane as Evanee emerged from her shop, carrying Prim in her arms.

  “Oh, sure. This is Prim, she’s my princess.” She held up the fat orange cat, smiling at her proudly. “Isn’t she a sweetie?”

  Lane gave a little shrug. “I guess.”

  Evanee pointed at the big gray cat who darted out the door. “And that’s Esmerelda, she’s kind of the queen, and th—” As she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the girl standing behind her, Evanee’s eyes widened and she stopped talking. She’d almost made the mistake of introducing Whitley.

  Whitley slapped her hand over her mouth, fighting back a giggle. “Oh my gosh, Ev. That was close!”

  Lane looked at her curiously. “And that’s what?”

  She giggled. “Oh, hmm. Forgot what I was going to say.” She dropped Prim into Lane’s arms to distract him from her faux pas. “Here, can you hold her for me while I grab Essy?”

  Lane looked down at the cat in his arms while Evanee scooped Esmerelda up.

  “Why is your cat wearing a tutu exactly?”

  “Because she likes it,” said Evanee.

  “Does she?” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm.” Evanee brushed a piece of dried grass off Esmerelda’s fur and held her tightly.

  Lane held Prim up in the air and turned her around slightly. “Evanee, has anyone ever told you that your princess is a male cat?”

  Evanee grinned uncomfortably. “Oh, umm, yes, the vet told me.”

  His brows knitted together. “And you’re still calling him a girl?”

  “Prim prefers it, actually.”

  “I see.”

  Evanee struggled to contain Esmerelda in her arms. “Are you ready to go? Essy’s kind of heavy.”

  “Uh! Rude!” snapped Esmerelda, batting a paw out at Evanee’s face.

  “Oh, sorry. Yes, yes. Here, lemme get the door for you.” Lane rushed to his truck and opened it with his free hand.

  Evanee put Esmerelda inside and then took Prim from Lane. She pretended to fuss with her top while Whitley slid in next. Once they were in, Evanee hopped in next, with Prim on her lap. “There we are!” she said with a little exhale. “All ready. So, what are we off to do?”

  “Just a little something fun I like to do in my downtime.”

  Evanee furrowed her brow, trying to think of what he might be referring to.

  Whitley clasped her hands below her chin. “Oooh,” she squealed. “I wonder what it could be. I heard people hunt animals around here. I could see him being a hunter! Oh! Or maybe he’s taking you fishing.”

  “Fishing?” Evanee repeated inadvertently with a bit of a wrinkled nose. She’d never been fishing before. She wasn’t sure that was something she was down for.

  Shaking his head, Lane chuckled. “While I do enjoy fishing, we’re not fishing.” He reached over to lightly touch her knee. “But no more guessing. I want it to be a surprise.”

  Evanee smiled. Even though they hadn’t done anything yet, she already felt slightly less tense than she had only a half an hour prior. “Okay, I won’t guess anymore.”

  Lane nodded. “Good. Because I think you just might have a little fun.”

  Minutes later, Lane pulled into the driveway he shared with his father. Except instead of pulling up in front of his childhood home like they’d done last time, he took a left and pulled up in front of his log cabin. He turned off the truck’s engine and faced Evanee. “First, you should change. I don’t want your clothes to get all dirty.”

  Evanee frowned. “Why would my clothes get all dirty?”

  Lane couldn’t help but smile as she looked positively terrified at what he had in store for her. “Just because they will. Now, you can borrow one of my shirts, and I have a pair of coveralls you can put on over your jeans. That oughta keep the mud off you.”

  “Mud?” said Evanee, glancing down at her shoes. “You didn’t say anything before about there being mud involved.”

  He chuckled. “Now don’t go telling me you’re squeamish about mud? You moved clear across the country to start your life over again. I thought for sure a woman like that wasn’t scared of anything.”

  “It’s not that I’m scared,” she said, her backbone straightening. “It’s just that I paid over two hundred dollars for these boots.”

  He glanced down at her shoes. “Well, that’s exactly why I suggested you borrow some of my clothes. I have some work boots you can put on.” He smiled then, enjoying seeing the fear in her eyes. “You’re brave, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am,” she said.

  “Alright, first you get a quick tour of the house. Then you can change. Then I have someone I want you to meet.” He gave a perfunctory nod and then jumped out of the truck before she could change her mind.

  When he came around to her side of the vehicle to help her down from the truck, she giggled, “Well, who knew today was going to be so eventful?”

  He lifted the bigger of her two cats out of the truck while she carried the smaller orange one. Together they paused at the split-rail fence that surrounded his log cabin. It’d been over five years since he’d built the place, but he was still pretty proud of his handiwork and couldn’t wait to show it off. He just hoped she liked it. As they stood there, looking up at the house, he took hold of her hand.

  Of her own free will, Evanee had taken his hand when they’d gone to see Calvin Lancaster, and it had felt surprisingly good. Not only had that simple gesture provided him comfort, but it had also made him feel needed. Like he was her protector. It was the strangest feeling to feel both needed and comforted by someone at the same time. But he hadn’t had time to process the feeling.

  Then, when the meeting was over, it had been obvious that Evanee was upset. Both with the lack of information that Calvin had provided them and maybe even with Lane for opening his big mouth. He felt like he couldn’t let her go home upset.

  He squeezed her hand. “Are you ready for the grand tour?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s a nice-looking house, that’s for sure.”

  He grinned. “Thanks.” He led her up the flagstone path he’d laid with his own two hands and up the front porch he’d built. On it were two pine rockers he and his dad had made one weekend after harvest season was over and they’d had nothing else to do to pass the time.

  “Love the rockers,” she said brightly.

  “Thanks. My dad and I made those.”

  “You made them? Wow, they’re awesome. You could sell those.”

  “Probably,” he said with a shrug. He led her into the house and flipped on the light, illuminating the small but cozy living room.

  Evanee sucked in her breath. “Lane! It’s so homey!”

  “I think so,” he said, pulling up his jeans at the waist. The cabin’s main living area consisted of the living room, kitchen, and dining area all in one. The walls and ceiling were all sided with finished tongue-and-groove pine, and the split-log stairs to the loft were edged with a hand-peeled pine log post railing. But the main feature in the living room was the stacked stone fireplace that Lane had hired a fellow from Whitingham to put in for him. Lane used that fireplace religiously all winter to help his furnace keep up with the brutal Vermont winters.

  On the back of his sofa and his easy chair were two quilts, one made by each of his grandmothers. Lane thought they gave the place a little needed color as well as some down-home charm. The braided rugs in front of his fireplace and in the kitchen were both made by his paternal grandmother.

  Evanee couldn’t stop smiling as she petted her cat. “I had no idea that the inside would look like this,” she said.

  “Never judge a book by its cover,” he said, nodding
.

  “I guess not.”

  “So you like it?”

  “I love it. It’s so, so… you!”

  That made him beam. He always thought the place reflected himself well too. It was nice to hear someone else say that.

  “Thank you.” Rubbing his hands together, he couldn’t wait to take her out for what he had planned. “Alright, we don’t have much daylight left. We better get you changed.”

  He led her to his bedroom, where he produced one of his button-down shirts and a pair of coveralls and his old work boots. “You change. I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

  She smiled at him. “I’ll hurry.”

  “Good.” Scooping up Esmerelda, he snuggled her to his chest and walked out on the front porch. As he stood outside waiting, he stroked her quietly. His mind wandered to Evanee and how cute she’d looked riding next to him in his truck, scared of what it was that they were about to do. He let out a quiet chuckle to himself as he scratched Esmerelda behind her ears.

  Minutes later, Evanee was outside standing next to him on his porch in his overalls and boots. She’d rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and shoved them up clear past her elbows. His coveralls hung off of her thin frame, and she walked clumsily in his heavy work boots. He beamed at her. She looked positively adorable in the oversized clothes.

  “I hate to say it, but I think my clothes look better on you than they do on me.”

  Evanee pushed her hair back with one hand. “Are you sure? They’re pretty big.”

  “Trust me,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Okay, well, I guess I’m ready.”

  “What should we do with these two?” asked Lane, looking down at Esmerelda.

  “We can’t take them with us?”

  Lane looked curiously at the two cats and scratched his head. He’d never met a woman in his life that was so attached to her cats. He wasn’t sure whether to find it odd or endearing. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, I guess we could leave them in your place?” suggested Evanee with a shrug.

  Lane curled his lip. “Without a litter box?” He looked around. “You think they’d run off if we just let ’em stay outside?”

  Evanee shook her head. “No, I’m pretty sure they’ll stick around. Won’t you, Esmerelda?” she cooed pointedly. “You’ll keep an eye on Prim, won’t you?”