Deadly as the Driven Snow

by Agnes Alexander

  As I closed the door, I thought about my high school encounter with J.T. Goodman. Jason was right about him not being one of my happy memories. Like most of the eleventh-grade girls, I had a crush on J.T. He was a senior and the captain of the football team. All the girls dreamed he’d ask them out. Me included. Then my day finally came. He met me in the hall and asked if I’d go to a movie with him. I was excited and couldn’t wait to brag to all my friends. My excitement didn’t last long, though. His only intention was to introduce me to the facts of life. When he headed to one of the parking places instead of the movies, I caught on to his scheme. I told him to take me home, but he said I was acting like a baby. When he continued to try to get me in his arms, I knew I had to show him I meant what I said. Thank goodness, I was wearing high heeled shoes. I managed to get one off and let him have it in the left eye with the sharp heel. I guess I was lucky he didn’t lose his eye, but he did have to wear a patch on it for three weeks. Of course, wearing the stigma of being subdued by a junior girl was hard on him. He swore he’d get me back someday, but so far, he hadn’t. The incident kind of cemented my reputation, too, because after that, none of the seniors asked me out.

  I couldn’t help chuckling as I sat down on the sofa and stared into the fire. I’d run into J.T. a few times since graduation, but we never had more than a few words to say to each other. Though he always looked at me as if I were his worst enemy, he never mentioned our high school encounter. Neither did I.

  Again, after wondering what Sadie saw in him, I soon pushed him out of my mind and began to think about who could’ve broken into his mother’s house and why. I couldn’t dream up a good reason, so it wasn’t long until I dozed off.

  A little later, a noise on the front porch woke me. I knew Jason had a key, so I didn’t get up.

  But he didn’t use the key. He turned the doorknob and shook it. I hit me full force. Whoever this was, it wasn’t Jason. Because of the weather, he’d come in the backdoor. Somebody I didn’t know was trying to get in.

  I jumped up and ran down the hall as quietly as I could. I knew Jason kept another gun in the closet in our bedroom. I grabbed it and loaded it with the clip beside it. By the time I got to the living room, which was lit only by the fire, I could see the would-be intruder had broken a pane in the glass section of the door and was reaching inside to turn the latch.

  “Get your hand away from there or I’ll shoot,” I yelled. “I have a gun and I know how to use it.”

  I heard a laugh as he turned the latch.

  “I said stop it, or I’ll shoot!”

  He laughed again, and the door started to come open.

  I didn’t wait for him to get inside. I fired, and a trickle of blood ran from his hand down the inside of my front door. He screamed.

  At the same time a car pulled into the driveway.

  I heard Jason yell, “Get away from that door.”

  “I can’t,” the man cried. “A crazy woman just shot me. I can’t move my hand.”

  “I can move it.” I heard Jason say as his feet hit the porch. The hand disappeared from the broken glass. Jason’s deep voice then said, “Down on your knees.”

  I heard a scuffle. Afraid Jason could need help, I opened the door. Jason had the man face down on the porch with his knee in his back. He turned on his shoulder radio and said into it, “I just caught a man trying to break into my house. Looks like he ran into a little resistance. You better send the medics.”

  “He wouldn’t stop unlocking the door. I couldn’t let him get inside,” I babbled. “I felt I had to stop him.”

  “It’s okay, June. You did the right thing.”

  “That crazy bi—"

  Jason pushed the man’s face to the floor. “Don’t say it.”

  The man shut up.

  “What are you doing here?” Jason demanded.

  “I just wanted to get somewhere warm.”

  “So, you break into someone’s house to get warm?”

  “Yeah. Why not? I didn’t think anyone was home. I wasn’t going to hurt anybody. I just wanted to get warm.” He wiggled. “Man, my hand hurts. Let me get up.”

  “I told him to take his hand out or I’d shoot him. He didn’t take his hand out, so I shot his hand,” I tried to explain.

  “It’s okay, honey. Relax.” He looked down at the man and demanded, “You knew someone was inside when she warned you, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t think she meant it. Lots of people say they have a gun when they don’t, especially women. I didn’t think she had one.”

  “You didn’t think the sheriff’s wife would have a gun and know how to use it?”

  “I didn’t know she was the sheriff’s wife. Man, I’m hurting here. I need to get up. Can’t you do somethin’ for my hand?”

  Jason looked at me. “Honey, will you bring the first-aid kit out here?”

  When I returned, Jason had the man sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. He put on the latex gloves and took a terry cloth from the kit and wrapped it around the man’s hand. “That should hold you until the ambulance gets here.”

  “I don’t need no ambulance. I just want to go.”

  “You’re going, all right. First, to the hospital, and then, straight to jail.”

  “Man, I don’t want to go to no jail. How was I supposed to know this was the sheriff’s house?”

  “You were breaking in, so it doesn’t matter whose house it is, you’d go to jail.” Jason said firmly.

  “Oh, I hurt,” he cried, and looked at me. “I’m going to sue you.”

  “Shut up. You don’t talk to her.” Jason jerked the man’s head back around. “What’s your name?”

  “Puddin’ Taine. Ask me again and I’ll tell you the same.”

  “Let’s see your license.”

  “I ain’t got no license,” he whimpered. “I tell you I’m hurtin’ bad. You gotta do somethin’ for me.”

  Before anything else was said, sirens sounded on the highway and blue lights flashed when they pulled into our driveway.

  Allen and Charles both got out of the patrol car. “What’s going on, Boss?” Allen asked.

  “This fool was trying to break into my house. I got here just as June shot him.”

  Charles laughed. “You shot him, June?”

  “I didn’t kill him. I just shot him in the hand.”

  There were more sirens, then an ambulance came into the driveway. Instantly, medics jumped out and ran to the porch.

  “What happened?” one of them asked.

  “He’s been shot in the hand,” Jason said. “I don’t think it’s very serious.” He looked down at the man. “I don’t think he’ll lose it, anyway.”

  “Oh, it hurts,” the man whined.

  “Okay, June.” Jason turned to me. “Let’s go inside and you can tell us what happened.”

  He and Allen came in. Charles stayed on the porch to guard the prisoner.

  “I was dozing on the sofa when I heard someone come on the front porch. Thinking it was you, I sat there and waited. Then, he began shaking the doorknob and I knew it wasn’t you, after all. I jumped up and ran to the bedroom to get the gun you keep in the closet. When I got back, he’d broken the window and was opening the lock. I told him to get his hand back outside or I’d shoot it. He just laughed and continue to turn the lock. I warned him again and he wouldn’t stop. When I saw he had the door open and was coming inside, I shot his hand. Then you came upon the porch and stopped him from coming in.” I said it all at one time, so I had to stop and catch my breath.

  “Well, Jason, it looks cut and dried to me. I don’t think we’ll have to take her in, do you?”

  I shot Allen a look that Jason says I use when I want to wilt flowers.

  Jason just chuckled and asked, “What did you do with the gun, honey?”

  “It’s on the coffee table. I laid it there when I heard you outside.”

  “Okay.” He turned to Allen. “Get the camera and take some pictures of
the door in case we need them.”

  Allen went outside, and Jason turned to me. “I’ll go find a board or something to cover up the broken pane. There’s a lot of cold air coming in.”

  “I wouldn’t have shot him if I’d known you were coming, Jason.”

  “June, don’t think about it. I’m glad you did what you did. He’s going to be all right. I looked at his hand. The bullet went through the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger. I doubt if it even broke a bone.”

  “Well, I’m glad I didn’t hurt him any worse, but he shouldn’t have kept coming in after I warned him.”

  “I know, honey. I know.” He put his arms around me and I clung to him.

  “Please don’t tell me you need to go back to the office. I need you to stay with me.”

  “I won’t go back. Allen can handle it. I need to put him in charge of this since family is involved.”

  Allen came back in and Jason said to him, “I guess you heard what I just said. You’re in charge of this situation.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you, Allen.” Jason still had his arms around me and I wasn’t about to move.

  It took another hour for everything to get straightened out, including washing the blood away, putting a piece of plywood across the broken panels, and because the shot had destroyed the lock, nailing the front door shut. After finishing the job, Jason told me since I’d mutilated the door so badly we’d have to get a new one and put on new locks.

  Finally, everyone was gone, and we were snuggled in Jason’s oversized sleeping bag in front of the fire. His gentle kisses calmed my nerves and we made love. In the afterglow, I felt safe in his arms. A little later, I knew Jason had drifted off to sleep by his deep steady breathing. I lay next to him and thought about how lucky I was to have such a wonderful husband. No matter how long the ice storm lasted, things would turn out all right because I was with him,

  In a little while, I felt something moving at my feet. Dingo, who’d been sleeping in one of the pull-up chairs in the corner, was making a bed at the bottom of the sleeping bag. I thought he must be adjusting to the new sleeping arrangements, too.

  Chapter Six

  The power came back on sometime during the night because when I woke up the fire had died to embers and it was warm in the living room. I turned to tell Jason and saw he was already awake.

  “Good morning,” I said. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Only a little while. I was lying here watching you sleep.”

  I laughed. “A pretty sight, isn’t it?”

  “A beautiful sight.” He gave me a peck on the cheek, sat up and stretched. “How about a cup of good hot fresh-brewed coffee?”

  “Sounds good. Do you mind making it while I go wash my face?”

  “Not at all.”

  I went down the hall, opening all the doors as I went. It felt good to be back in a nice cozy house. I decided to take a quick shower while I was in the bathroom. By the time I came into the kitchen, Jason had breakfast on the table: bacon, scrambled eggs, grits, juice and big mugs of steaming coffee. I was glad I’d taken extra time to put on my makeup, jeans and the red sweater Jason liked.

  We were half through breakfast when the phone rang.

  Jason laughed after answering and said, “I know, Brad. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m married to Annie Oakley. No. We’re fine. She’s right here…hold on.” To me he said, “It’s your Dad.” He handed me the phone.

  “Girl, what in the world is going on at your house?”

  “Hi, Dad,” I said. “How did you know something happened here?”

  “It was on the morning news. Said the sheriff’s wife shot a man in the hand who was trying to break into the house.”

  “It was on the news?” I was surprised and looked at Jason. “No, we haven’t turned on the TV. We were just enjoying a hot breakfast.”

  “So, you’re really okay?”

  “Yes. We’re both fine.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “It was no big deal. I acted out of instinct.” I told Dad what had happened, the way I told everyone else. I added, “That’s all there was to it.”

  “I’m glad Jason got there, but I’m proud of you, baby girl.”

  Every time Dad called me that, I had to smile because he called each of his four daughters “baby girl.” “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to your breakfast. We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Dad.” I hung up the phone and turned to Jason. “I wonder who told the news people about last night.”

  He shrugged. “Probably Allen. When they took the man to the hospital, I’m sure there were questions. There always are with gunshot wounds. He had to tell them what happened, and it doesn’t take long for word to get out.” He drank some coffee and smiled at me. “You’d better be prepared. It wouldn’t surprise me if reporters were to call for a statement from you today.”

  “Oh, my. I don’t want to talk to reporters.”

  “Be yourself and it’ll be fine.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I know you’re used to being questioned by them, but I’m not.”

  “You can handle it, baby.” He stood. “Now, I’d better get ready for work.”

  Jason was right about the reporters. By the time he’d left for work and I’d straightened the house, fed the cats and decided to change the sheets so they would be fresh, the telephone rang.

  “Mrs. Striker,” a cheery voice said. “I’m Natalie Bennett, a freelance reporter. Would you be willing to let me interview you for our local TV affiliate?”

  I don’t know why, but I said yes. Maybe it was because she sounded scared, and because her eagerness reminded me of my youngest sister, Jan.

  She asked for directions to the house and I gave them to her. Then, I added, “Please come to the back door, because the front door won’t open.”

  “I’ll see you at two,” she said, and hung up.

  It wasn’t yet lunch time, but I stood at the kitchen sink munching on an apple. As I looked across the field toward Mrs. Goodman’s house, I thought about the man Jason arrested for breaking in. Then I thought about the man who stumbled into our garden. I wondered if there was a connection.

  I finished my apple and threw the core in the trash. Deciding I wanted to take a walk, I bundled up, slid my feet into boots, and went out the back door. I found myself wandering toward the garden area. Jason had said there were trampled weeds and splatters of blood where our visitor had stumbled around, and I decided to look for other clues. Of course, with the ice melting and the ground getting soggy, I couldn’t find any traces of blood. Neither could I tell where he’d walked on weeds. I walked up and down the rows where Jason had planted his corn last year, but still saw nothing.

  I gave up and headed to the road, wondering if I could find the spot where the man had been thrown out of the car. Again, the rain had washed everything where it ran, including any blood. I gave up and headed back toward the house. I was almost to the back door when I saw something shiny beside the steps. It was almost hidden under a bent plant, and I nearly missed it. When I bent down, I saw it was a small pocket knife. I started to pick it up, but changed my mind. Jason wouldn’t want me to touch it in case it was a clue instead of one he dropped.

  I went into the house, got a plastic bag and put on a latex glove. I retrieved the knife and put in the bag. As I went inside, I laid it on the shelf over the washer and took off my boots.

  The phone rang inside, and I hurried to hang up my coat and raced into the kitchen to answer it.

  “June, I heard about you on the news,” Sadie Middleton blurted as soon as I said hello. “Are you all right?”

  Sadie was one of the last persons I wanted to talk to, and for some reason, after her husband had been sent to prison for killing my brother-in-law, she seemed determined she was going to be my best friend.

  “I’m fine,
Sadie.” I sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m not sure why the thing was on the news. There was really nothing to it.”

  “I don’t believe that. You were so brave. I’d never have the courage to do something like that.”

  “I wish it had never happened,” I said. “If I’d known Jason was on the way home, I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger.”

  She was quiet a minute and I was hoping she was ready to hang up. I was wracking my brain as to how I could end the conversation.

  She caught me off guard when she said, “June, you’re really happy with Jason Striker, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said. “If I hadn’t thought he was the man for me, I never would have married him.”

  “Steve had me convinced Jason was a bumbling county sheriff who would never be able to catch a criminal.” She sighed. “I guess he was wrong.”

  “Yes. He was wrong.”

  “Can I tell you something, June?”

  I wasn’t interested in anything Sadie could tell me, but I knew I needed to be polite. “Of course.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  “Oh.” It surprised me that she was ready to admit to seeing someone. It had only been a few months since Steve went to prison. With three kids and all the junk that had been said, I wondered how she had time to start dating. I also wondered how the Middletons were handling this turn of events. Especially if it was true that she was seeing J.T. Goodman.

  “I ran into him at the grocery store and we got to talking about old times. We went to school with the guy, though he’s a little older then us.” She giggled.

  I knew she wanted me to ask who he was, but I didn’t. I simply said, “Is that right?”

  “Yes, it’s J.T. Goodman. Remember him?”

  I still couldn’t believe even Sadie would be that desperate. I not only remembered him, he still gave me the creeps every time I thought about the night he tried to force himself on me in high school.

  I didn’t know what to say. Did I congratulate her or tell her I’d already heard she was seeing the man? I didn’t have to do either. I heard the beep of an incoming call. I thanked Sadie for calling and told her I needed to take it.