Wade somehow looked disheartened. “I see,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath. “So, what can I do for you, Deputy?”
“Your snowmobile. I need to borrow it.”
“It’s not really a good night to go for a ride,” he said. “Or haven’t you noticed.”
“I need to borrow your snowmobile’s trailer too. I gotta go up to Summit Ridge. There’s been an avalanche.”
“Isn’t that out of your jurisdiction?” Wade asked.
“Yeah, but Goldie and Jack are up there, and Dad wants me to check things out. I thought I’d borrow your snowmobile and ride over to the cabin where they’re staying.”
Wade grabbed his down jacket from a hook near the door. “Then I’m going with you.”
“Hold on, Wade. I don’t need anyone else to worry about.”
“Well, you can’t rescue two people on the back of one snowmobile? Can you?”
“True. But I can hardly take a drunk along.”
Wade, who was sliding his arms into his jacket, froze. “That’s what you think of me? That I’m just some drunk?”
I wasn’t about to fall for his act. “You’re drunk now, right?”
He shook his head as he gave me a hard stare. “I’ve been sober for several weeks. Even joined AA.”
I cocked my eyebrows then crossed my arms and for the first time in a very long time studied him. “You’re on the level?”
“Of course.”
I took a step closer and lifted my chin. “Then blow in my face.”
He obeyed. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of liver and onions, Sally’s special at the café tonight. “You’ve got nothing a breath mint won’t cure.”
He finished slipping his arms into his coat then began to pull on his gloves. “I may have done a lot of things in my time, Donna, but I’ve never lied. At least, not to you.”
I turned on my official voice and said, “Call Brad and ask to borrow his machine. It looks like the two of us are going snowmobiling.”
Later, with the snowmobiles filled with gas and fastened securely on the back of the trailer, I sped my Bronco up the freeway to Summit Ridge. We had two steaming coffees and two of Sally’s hot tuna melt sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and tucked into a brown paper bag, complete with chips and her chewy peanut butter cookies.
I kept stealing glances at Wade. Normally, whenever he rode in my truck, he was in the backseat, behind the wire cage as I taxied him home from the Gold Rush. It was funny to see him up front with me.
“What’s the latest report about the slide?” Wade asked.
I looked at him, glad for his concern and, I had to admit, for his companionship. This was going to be one long night, after all.
“I talked to the highway patrol, and they told me the slide blocked the entire Jade Pass into the valley where Goldie and Jack are. In fact, there’s a chance that the old house they are staying in could be buried.”
“Or crushed,” Wade said.
“That’s the fear. And since the weather hasn’t let up yet, they haven’t been able to get a chopper to fly over to assess the damage.”
We rode in silence while the wipers swatted at the slush that continued to coat my windshield. Visibility was low as a wall of swirling white shone in the headlights, blotting out the road before us. I pushed the gas as hard as I dared, afraid we’d come to one of those blind curves this road was so famous for.
“So Goldie and Jack could be in real trouble,” Wade finally said.
“Yes, they could.”
The tires lost traction on a curve that loomed out of the darkness. We skidded briefly before the truck found its grip.
Wade looked over at me. “Deputy, you ever had an accident?”
He looked kind of scared, and I snorted a laugh. “What’s the matter, Wade? I thought you liked living on the edge.”
“Honestly, Donna, I’ve lived there too long. For the first time in a long time, I feel I’ve got something to live for.”
“You mean like a woman?”
“I ain’t had much luck with women, but you know that. I’m talking about something deeper.”
I stole a glance at him. “What’s deeper than love?”
“That’s just it, there’s nothing deeper than love. That’s why I’m a changed man.”
“You’re starting to sound like the pastor there, Wade.”
I slipped him another look and noticed his grin. He looked as if he were lit by an inner glow, like some of the folks down at the church. “You’re sort of freaking me out.”
He chuckled. “Just when you thought you knew me,” he said.
“I know you, all right.”
The truck slid around another hairpin curve.
“For gosh sakes, slow this baby down,” Wade said. “There’s nothing we can do until morning, anyway. And I for one see no need to go barreling off a cliff.”
I let my foot ease a bit off the gas. “You’re right.”
Wade looked at me and grinned. “That’s what I like about you, Deputy. You always were a woman who could be trusted to do the right thing.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “I’ve made my share of mistakes.”
Wade nodded his head. “True, and maybe I was one of them.”
“Maybe,” I said, more gruffly than I intended.
He turned and stared at me long and hard before he said, “Just the same, I’ve never regretted you.”
I inwardly groaned. Now I’d gone and done it. I’d brought one of my lovesick pals out on a rescue.
Well, lovesick or not, when Wade was sober he was as capable as the next guy, and from what I’d heard, he was a mean machine on his snowmobile. Not that I’d ever gone riding with him. I was glad we had two machines so I wouldn’t have to hang on the back of his.
An hour later, we approached Summit Ridge. The town was just a hole in the wall, really; nothing much to see. The town’s main street was so short I could see the roadblock just ahead punctuated by the flashing lights of a parked highway patrol car. I drove up and circled so my window faced the officer’s.
The grinning young highway patrolman said, “You’re a long way from home tonight, aren’t you, Deputy?”
I shrugged. “’Fraid so. I came out to assist with the rescue.”
“There’s no rescue in progress here,” the officer said. “From what I understand, there’s no one up in that high mountain valley to rescue, except two people possibly staying in one of the rentals up there.”
“That would be the couple, two residents of Summit View who are reported to be in the Moore place. I just got off the phone with their daughter, and she hasn’t heard from them. So they’re definitely up there.”
“Well, there’s nothing you can do tonight. The blizzard’s still raging and the snow’s too unstable. Why don’t you go on down to the motel and check in. Then come back here first thing in the morning for a briefing.”
As I powered my window up, Wade said, “Told ya we’d have to wait.”
“And that makes you smarter than me?”
“Among other things,” Wade said with a grin.
I pulled into the motel parking lot, and Wade raised his brows.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said. “We’re not sharing a room.”
“Who says I wanted to room with you?” Wade shot back.
I found a place to park the parade I was pulling behind my Bronco and turned to Wade. “As long as we’re clear.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wade said. “Like you said on TV, you’re the law.”
19
What’s Good for the Goose
Clay was busy feeding his furry little housemates, Woodward and Bernstein, when the call came from his boss about the snowslide at Jade Pass.
“And?” he asked, shrugging. “We have snowslides all the time. It’s Colorado; or have you forgotten that?”
“You’re getting a bit uppity, Whitefield. Must be all that weight loss.”
That and a few other good th
ings happening in my life, Clay thought. “Sorry about that, Chief.”
“The point is,” his boss continued, “is that Coach Dippel and his wife are up there. I got a call from Vernon Vesey that they could be trapped.”
“No joke?”
“No joke.”
Clay replaced the lid to the gerbils’ cage while balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Wow. Man. That’s not good. Do you want me to head over there?”
“Not tonight. There are too many other things you need to deal with.”
“Like?”
“Like a stack of work you seem to be neglecting lately over at the office. Oh, and by the way, call Donna Vesey on her cell tomorrow and get an update on the coach and Mrs. Dippel.”
“Donna?” Clay stood a bit straighter as he said her name. “Did she go over there?”
“Sheriff said she and Wade Gage left right after he got word. They’re using Gage’s snowmobile and some other guy’s... Brad somebody. See if you can’t get the scoop.”
Wade and Donna, Clay thought with a sigh. Donna and David.
Who next?
“I’ll call her first thing in the morning,” he said. “I’ll have the complete—and I do mean the complete—story for you as soon as it’s ready.”
“You’re the man,” his boss said. “That’s why I keep you around.”
Clay flipped his cell phone to cut it off then paced the floor of his little apartment for a few moments while Woodward and Bernstein scratched and scurried about in their cage like the two little furry rats they were. He stopped pacing long enough to look at them. They, in turn, stopped long enough to stare back, pink eyes bulging out in wonder.
“What are you looking at?” he asked them. “Haven’t you ever seen a man nearing a breakdown?”
Clay walked over and sat at the desk chair, folded his arms over the scarred top of the desk, and rested his chin on his forearm. The gerbils repositioned themselves for a better look-see. “What I don’t understand,” Clay said to them, “is what she sees in him. Okay, so they were high school sweethearts. A lot of people have high school sweethearts, but that doesn’t mean they still make goo-goo eyes at each other nearly twenty years later, does it?” The gerbils blinked back at him for several long moments. “I know, I know,” he said. “I’ve got a beautiful girl interested in me. Move on with my life. But, I’m telling you guys, there’s more to this than meets the eye. There’s something more than the high school prom holding those two together; I just can’t figure out what.”
Clay sat upright. “But I will. One day.” He frowned. “It just may not be today.”
Vonnie
20
Prayer Preserves
I wiped my brow and ran toward the kitchen, passing Fred and David lounging in the recliners in front of the television. Well, at least they looked happy, despite what we’d all just witnessed on that Hollywood Nightly program. I shivered in horror at the thought of such unwanted exposure of my private life. Not to mention Donna’s. Poor girl. I should have called her to see how she was doing. I would have too if she hadn’t been on duty.
I stole a look at my son. He was laughing with Fred at a Malcolm in the Middle rerun. It was like the boy didn’t have a care in the world. Of course, he knew what they’d said about Donna was a lie, because we’d set him straight as soon as all those terrible words about her and Larry were broadcast.
I stole another look. How could he look so peaceful? Maybe he was used to the attention, though I didn’t think he enjoyed it. I know I certainly didn’t. This had been a nightmare. I was not only battling my mother but also the media, who was still camped out on my front lawn. I peeked out the closed kitchen window blinds and saw Dad’s car pull out of our driveway. Oh dear. Earlier, he’d stopped over for dinner and had walked out the front door over fifteen minutes ago. That meant he must have granted a few interviews on the way to his car. How could he do that to me? And while we were at it, how could he leave me here with Mother and that brass bell of hers?
Ding! Ding! Ding! “Vonnie?”
I called over my shoulder, “Hang on, Mother. I’m making a phone call.”
Her strong, determined voice called back, “Well, hurry up, I need you.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. Lord, if you get me through this, well, it will be a miracle. And Lord, you know I believe in miracles. I do! Can I please, please have one? Like right now?
I thought back to last night when Mother had shown up on my doorstep, demanding I “stow” her in my home while her broken ankle healed. Maybe I was crazy, but whatever I was, I was still the ever-accommodating daughter.
Though I had to wonder why I’d let Mother’s fractured ankle interrupt my reunion with David.
All I know is, under these circumstances, no court would convict me for what I’d do to her. No court would convict me, that is, as long as the paparazzi didn’t capture her demise on film.
Kidding aside, the pastor always says we should forgive offenses, but I wonder. It’s easier to forgive the kind of offenses you can justify. But what my mother had done to both my baby and me was unjustifiable. Which was probably why I was feeling such overwhelming disgust toward her now. But I would work hard to not let it show. I only hoped I could keep my act up until she went home.
The bell rang again.
“Just a minute, Mother.”
Now, for my phone call, which would prove to be no easy trick. As my phone number was listed, the media had called nonstop, begging David for interviews. He seemed to take it all in stride, but the media circus was driving me crazy. Especially after I saw the photographer in the tree outside my bathroom window with what appeared to be a telephoto lens. Honestly! What publication did the man work for anyway? Celebrity Bathroom Secrets?
I looked at the phone before me. In an effort to stop our phones from ringing, Fred had turned them all off. “There,” he’d said. “We can get a little peace.”
“You’re forgetting my mother is in the guest room,” I said.
“I wish I could,” he lamented.
I hesitated, then turned on the phone. Ring!
I had to get this caller off the line. I had to call Evie and Lizzie for some prayer support. This is an emergency!
I picked up the call. “You’ve got the wrong number,” I said as sweetly as I could.
“Vonnie? What on earth?”
“Lizzie?”
“Vonnie, we’ve got a problem.”
“You can say that again,” I said with a sigh. “You tell me your problem, then I’ll tell you mine.”
“Oh, Vonnie, how are things going with Fred, your mother, and David?”
“Honestly? Not so good.” I rolled my eyes and said, almost tongue in cheek, “So, can I come and live with you?”
Lizzie laughed. “I’m afraid I’ve got a full house too.”
“Is that why you called, so we could pray for one another?”
“I’m afraid our problems pale compared to what I’m about to tell you.”
I sat down. “Oh dear. What now?”
“Olivia just called.”
“Goldie and Jack?”
“Yes, but it’s not what you think. They’re still on their ‘weekend,’ as you know, but it seems they may have been caught in an avalanche.”
A little gasp escaped my throat.
“The operative words are may have been. We can’t reach them by phone, and all we really know is there has been an avalanche at Jade Pass, just outside of Summit Ridge, a bad one. Apparently with all this new snowfall, the avalanche danger is extreme up in that mountain bowl they’re in. They could be in real danger, if not from the Jade Pass avalanche then another one.”
“Want me to start the potluck prayer chain?” I asked.
“Better yet, let’s call an emergency prayer meeting.”
“Your place or mine?” I teased.
“Shall we flip a coin?”
I laughed. “Let’s do it at my place. I’d like to expose my son to a lit
tle prayer action, seeing as I know nothing yet about his spiritual upbringing or what he believes about God. Besides, it might even do Mom some good too.”
“Excellent,” Lizzie said. “Shall we say everyone at your place in a half hour? I know it’s short notice.”
“We’ll make it work. Lizzie, could you make the phone calls and tell the girls not to talk to the paparazzi outside?”
Lizzie actually giggled. “I can vouch for everyone’s good behavior except Lisa Leann’s. I’m sure you saw her performance on TV tonight.”
I rolled my eyes. “You tell Lisa Leann that if she talks to the press, I’ll see that Evie takes her wedding business somewhere else.”
“That will put the fear of the Lord in her.”
“It’d better,” I said, meaning it.
We hung up, and I unplugged the phone again as I appraised the state of my house. There were dirty dishes scattered about, newspapers, suitcases, shoes, and odds and ends strewn everywhere. In other words, the place was a wreck.
I sighed yet again.
Ding! Ding! Ding! “Vonnie, I’ve been waiting!”
A half hour later, the girls were pulling into the driveway. That is, all except Goldie and Donna.
Despite my mother’s protest, I’d actually gotten her presentable in her fuchsia jogging suit and had her perched in my recliner, positioned so everyone would admire her cast. David and Fred had helped me spruce up the place and haul the kitchen chairs into the living room. I’d even managed to make a pot of coffee.
The first one through my front door was Lisa Leann, who came dressed in jeans and a long fringe-tipped sweater in teal. She was bearing a beautiful Bundt cake. As I took it from her, I realized it was still warm. “Don’t worry, I didn’t talk to the media,” she said, as if she was proud of the fact.
“Good,” I said. “How did you have time to bake a cake?”
“Oh. This is my lemon Bundt cake,” Lisa Leann explained. “I keep an emergency supply of them in my freezer. All I had to do was defrost it in my microwave. Voila!”
I, who was almost speechless at the thought of having a stash of emergency lemon Bundt cakes in my freezer, could only say, “Oh, how nice.”
The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake Page 12