Deadly as the Driven Snow

by Agnes Alexander

  She hung up, but I could tell it was reluctantly.

  I pushed the button on the phone and said, “Hello.”

  “Is this the gun-toting mama who isn’t afraid to face any outlaw out there?”

  “Jason, you idiot.” I laughed. “I’m sure glad you’re having a good laugh at my expense.”

  “I’m not the only one. The guys here are giving me a hard time. They said I’d better tow the line, or I might lose some body parts I don’t want to lose.”

  I chuckled. “Well…they could be right.”

  He laughed out loud. “I actually called to tell you your victim is going to be fine. The bullet went through the fleshy part of his hand, just as I said.”

  “I’m glad about that. I certainly didn’t want to really hurt anyone.”

  “Turns out he works part time at J.T.’s construction company and had heard that Mrs. Goodman had gone to Florida. He and his uncle decided to start breaking into houses and he thought Mrs. Goodman’s would be an easy one to start with. By the time he got him to the jail, Allen said he’d confessed the whole plan.” Jason laughed again. “When he came to our door, he thought he was at Mrs. Goodman’s house until you shot him. Since the car was gone and you hadn’t turned on any lights, he got confused.” He took a breath and went on. “Even in his stupor, the drunk in Mrs. Goodman’s house found the right place. Allen found their old pick-up truck in the mud in a field about a half-mile away. The old man was driving, and when he couldn’t go any farther, he walked.”

  “How were they supposed to get away if their truck was stuck?”

  “June, you’re thinking logically. This pair wasn’t capable of that. The older man was too drunk and the younger one only had getting stuff to sell on his mind. Neither had thought about getting away.” He paused. “Hold on a minute.” I knew he put his hand over the phone because the voices became muffled.

  I didn’t have to wait long, and he was back on the line. “That was an update on the man in our back yard. He’s still critical, but there is a possibility he might make it. We’re still trying to identify him.”

  “I found something in the yard today which might help you. It was a pocket knife. It had fallen under the bush beside the back steps. I guess the ice had weighted the limb down and you didn’t see it.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  I smiled to myself. Jason was trying in a tactful way to ask me if I’d touched it. I said, “No I didn’t pick it up with my bare hands. I put on a glove and put it in a plastic bag.”

  “Good girl.”

  “It pays to be married to a smart sheriff. He’s trained me well.”

  “I don’t know about that. It’s probably your PI training kicking in.”

  “Of course, it could be that. If you want me to spy on somebody, I’m really good at surveillance since that’s what I did most of the time.”

  He laughed and said, “Charles is in the area. I’ll call him and send him by to pick up the knife sometime his afternoon.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Thanks, darling. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, Jason. More than I can possibly make you understand.”

  “I think you’re doing a pretty good job of making me feel loved. I’ll see you tonight.”

  I hung up the phone and looked at my watch. I had just enough time to make a sandwich and get ready for my interview.

  Chapter Seven

  At five minutes to two, a knock sounded on my back door. I stood and smoothed down the light blue cashmere sweater I’d changed into. It complemented my navy slacks. I had added my lapis bracelet and earrings which Jason had designed for me by Lanie’s Fine Things.

  Natalie Bennett was as pretty, if not prettier, than she appeared on television. She was in her early twenties. Her dark hair framed her face in a way to bring out her dark brown eyes. She was dressed in a parka, a red knitted cap, and scarf. Her fur-lined boots looked expensive.

  A camera man followed her up the steps. He was older and looked bored with his job. She introduced him as Ben Fuller.

  I smiled at both of them and said, “I’m sorry to have to ask you to come in the back, but my front door is nailed shut.”

  “Nailed shut?” Natalie looked puzzled.

  “I’ll tell you about it, but first, please let me take your coats.” I hung their outer wear in the mud room. I noticed they both stooped to remove their boots. I told them I appreciated their thoughtfulness and led them into the living room.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I asked. “I have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, soda.”

  “I sure could use a cup of coffee,” Fuller said. “We’ve been out in the cold, and it’d be a treat.”

  “I normally don’t accept anything to eat or drink on an interview, but you got me when you said hot chocolate,” Natalie said. “I can’t turn that down.”

  “Find seats and I’ll be right back.” It wasn’t long until I returned with a tray. Along with their drinks, I’d put a plate of peanut butter cookies I’d made for the ice storm. It didn’t take Ben long to grab one and take a sip of coffee. “Good coffee,” he said. “Cookies, too.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Do you mind if we get started?” Natalie asked.

  I indicated I didn’t mind and sat on the sofa. Natalie sat in a pull-up chair near me.

  Fuller turned on the camera and Natalie said, “Good evening. I’m here in the home of Mrs. June Striker, wife of the sheriff of Edison County, Jason Striker. Mrs. Striker shot an intruder as he tried to come into her home last night.” She turned to me and said, “Thank you for doing this interview with me, Mrs. Striker.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She started her questioning with, “Now, Mrs. Striker, would you please tell me what happened?”

  I went through the story much the same way as I had for everyone else.

  “In doing research for this interview,” she said. “I found out you were a private investigator in Greensboro before coming back to your hometown of Edison last summer, Mrs. Striker. Is that true?”

  “Actually, I was more of a PI trainee, Ms. Bennett. I had my temporary license and was working on getting my permanent license when I had an accident and came home to recuperate. I never went back to Greensboro.”

  “Do you still plan to seek your PI license?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but I have no firm plans at this point.”

  “So, with the training you’ve had, you know how to use a gun. Is that right?”

  “Yes. I’ve taken lessons and I’ve practiced on the firing range.”

  “I understand your husband was not at home at the time of the break-in. Is this true?”

  “Yes. He arrested a man breaking into a neighbor’s house and had taken him in for questioning. I was alone.”

  “Do you recommend that women who are alone at night keep a gun, Mrs. Striker?”

  “Not unless they have been trained in the use and safety of a firearm. A lot of accidents happen because people with no experience or training go out and buy a gun.”

  “How do you recommend one get this training?”

  “For the use of a firearm, there are commercial training areas and the fees are usually inexpensive.”

  “Do you recommend everyone do this?”

  “If one owns a gun, they definitely need training to use it. They should also be responsible gun owners and keep the guns they own locked away where children can’t get to them.”

  “Absolutely,” Natalie said. “What about the gun you used in the shooting? Was it locked up?”

  “Yes. We have a young niece and nephew. We’re always careful about keeping our guns away from them or any other children who happen to visit.”

  “That’s excellent advice.”

  June changed the subject. “When I saw the man was going to continue trying to get into the house, I eased out of the room and got the gun. I would have never fired the weapon if he hadn’t got the door open
and was coming inside.”

  “I think you said you warned him.”

  “I did. Twice. He didn’t stop, and when he managed to get the door open, I aimed for his hand.”

  “You must be a good shot, Mrs. Striker. They tell us you did very little, if any, damage to the man’s hand.”

  “Of course, I’m glad he’s going to be all right. I would never shoot anyone unless I felt it was absolutely necessary.”

  “You mentioned that your front door was nailed shut as we came in through the back door. Would you tell me about that?”

  “The bullet did more damage to the door than anything else,” I said. “When I fired, it shattered the lock and the side of the door. Of course, we had to cover the broken pane, and we decided since we couldn’t lock the door, we’d nail it shut and replace the entire thing.”

  Natalie motioned for Ben to take a picture of the door.

  “As I said, your husband is Jason Striker, the Sheriff of Edison County. May I asked you what he had to say about the shooting?”

  “He didn’t say much of anything. He turned the case over to Deputy Allen Ledbetter so there would be no question about the investigation.”

  “Do you plan to press charges against the man for breaking into your house?”

  “I leave that up to Deputy Ledbetter.”

  She was about to ask another question, but there was a sharp rap on the back door.”

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  “That’s okay. We can stop the tape.”

  I went to the back door and found Charles Easton was standing there. I could tell he was cold because he was shaking his arms and moving about.

  “Come in, Charles. You look frozen.” I stood aside and held the door open.

  “I don’t want to interrupt. Looks like the TV people are here.”

  “I think they’re about through.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll come in for a bit. I’ve been directing traffic at a wreck on Four-Twenty-One and I’m awfully cold.”

  “Take off your coat and I’ll get you something hot to drink. Want coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “Hot chocolate sounds great.”

  I poured him a mug and handed it to him as he came into the kitchen.

  Natalie was watching him.

  “This is Deputy Charles Easton,” I said. “Natalie Bennett and Ben Fuller.” I indicated the people in the living room.

  “Ms. Bennett,” Charles smiled at her and nodded to Ben. “I’ve seen you on TV. It’s a real pleasure to meet you in person.”

  “Thank you for saying that. I don’t get a lot of air time, and it’s flattering when someone recognizes me.” As she looked at Charles, I could see the interest in her eyes.

  Charles tore his eyes away from her and looked at me. “The sheriff sent me to get something you found in the yard.”

  Natalie’s eyebrow shot up. “Would it have anything to do with the shooting?”

  “No,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t press the subject. “It was something my husband has been looking for.”

  “Oh.” She lost interest. “Do you mind if we get back to the interview? I would like to get this taped and edited in time for the eleven o’clock news.”

  I indicated the pull-up chair in the corner and said to Charles. “Have a seat over there and I’ll be with you in a little while.”

  “Let’s see, where were we?” Natalie looked at her notes. “Oh, yes.” She nodded to Fuller.

  “Now, Mrs. Striker, in retrospect, would you fire the gun again?”

  “I have a problem with the word ‘retrospect’, Ms. Bennett,” I said. “It muddies the issue. I will say, if the situation were exactly the same, yes, I would fire the gun again. What I’d do under another circumstance, I don’t know. I’d have to be in the situation to see.”

  “I understand,” she said. “Is there anything you’d like to add to this interview?”

  “I would tell people out there to be responsible with their firearms. If you have children, unload your guns and keep them locked up. If you have children coming to your home, do the same thing. To me, some of the saddest stories in the news are when a small child kills his brother or sister or friend because the parents or grandparents have carelessly left a loaded gun where a child can find it.”

  “That is well said, Mrs. Striker. Again, thank you for permitting us to come into your home and interview you.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Bennett. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” she said with a smile.

  Ben turned the camera off and set it on the floor. He took another cookie. “These are good, Mrs. Striker. Thanks for serving them.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Again, Natalie said, “I really do appreciate you letting me interview you, Mrs. Striker. You were so easy to talk with.”

  “You’re welcome, and please, call me June.”’

  “Now that we’re not on camera, I will, if you’ll return the favor. I’m Natalie.”

  As the television crew began bundling up and getting ready to take their leave, Charles stood and put his cup in the sink. “Thanks, June. That hit the spot.”

  He came into the mud room area and started putting on his boots.

  I couldn’t help noticing how he kept eyeing Natalie. I glanced at her and saw she was looking back at him. I wondered if there was the possibility of a romance in the making. My mind began to wonder how I could get the two of them together again. Silently, I warned myself to stop playing matchmaker. Just because I was happy with my relationship with my man didn’t mean I had to try to force others to seek happiness.

  I waited until Natalie and Ben were getting into their truck, then turned to the cabinet in the laundry room. I took out the plastic bag with the knife and held it toward Charles. When he didn’t reach for it, I looked at him. He was watching Natalie as the television truck backed out of the driveway.

  “Pretty woman, isn’t she, Charles?”

  He glanced around and laughed. “June, if I wasn’t a black man, you’d see that you made me blush.” He took the bag from me and put it in his inside jacket pocket.

  “Sorry about that.” I laughed. “But she really is a lovely lady.”

  “Probably has men worshipping at her feet. She’d never be interested in a lowly deputy like me.”

  “You never know, Charles. You never know.” I closed the door as he went out and wondered again how I could get the two of the together without either suspecting I’d done so.

  Chapter Eight

  The eleven o’clock news ran Natalie Bennett’s interview with me. When we turned off the TV and snuggled down to go to sleep, Jason said, “You did a good job. I’m proud of you.”

  “They didn’t use everything I said, but they ran more than I thought they would.”

  “Be prepared for calls tomorrow. You’d be surprised how things like this impress some people.”

  “I’m going to get out a little tomorrow, so maybe I’ll miss their calls.”

  “Where do you plan to go?”

  “I thought if you could meet me at Lowe’s sometime in the morning, we’d buy a front door. We can’t keep sending people to the back when we have guests.”

  “I’ll probably be able to do that.” He yawned. “Then what?”

  “I might drop in on Mom and Dad.” I didn’t add that before I went to see them I was going to call Natalie Bennett.

  “That’s good.”

  We talked a little more. I questioned him about Charles Easton. Thank goodness he simply answered me without asking why I wanted to know so much about one of his deputies. It wasn’t long until both our voices grew slurry. I think we were still trying to talk when we fell asleep.

  • ♥ •

  The next day, they forecasted the temperature to reach a possible 45 degrees. I dressed in a pair of red wool slacks, white cable knit sweater and black blazer. Jason met me at Lowe’s at eleven. We chose a door with a full oval length glass and arranged for
it to be installed the next day. I think the reason they agreed to do it so quickly was because Jason had on his uniform. He disagreed. He said they recognized me as the shooter and were afraid not to come. I must admit that when we left the store, several people followed us out with their eyes.

  He walked me to my car. I asked as I got into the driver’s seat, “Do you have time for lunch?”

  “I wish I did, but I promised Roberta I’d get back in time for her to go to the dentist at one. I’d planned on grabbing something and taking it back to the office. Besides my promise to her, I have a lot of paperwork to do.”

  “Then, I’ll see you tonight,” I said, as I smiled up at him and put my hand over his where he’d rested it on the open window. I wanted to reach up and throw my arms around his neck, but I realized we had to put on a professional face in public. Especially when he was in uniform.

  His other hand covered mine. “I’ll try to get home early. Maybe we could do a movie or something.” He squeezed my hand. “Probably the something,” he said, and winked.

  “That something sounds good to me,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare be late.”

  “With you waiting at home, how could I not come home early?” He squeezed my hand again. “We might get started on that something before dinner and a movie.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

  “You do that.” He smiled at me and headed to his patrol car.

  I watched him pull out of the parking lot and thanked God I was the lucky woman he fell in love with. Before I started my car, I picked up my cell phone and dialed the branch office of the television station in town. I told the receptionist who I was and asked if I could speak to Natalie Bennett.

  In a minute, a voice said, “This is Natalie Bennett.”

  “Hi, Natalie. June Striker, here. I wanted to thank you for making me look so good on TV last night.”

  “Oh, June, you’re more than welcome. They were buzzing around here after the story aired. People really liked it, and they liked you. They even said since I now seemed to have an ‘in’ with the sheriff’s department, I might be assigned more crime stories.”