“Is Harry all right?”
“I don’t know. She was unconscious when I left, and Murphy is with her.”
Pewter, now running with the corgi, said nothing. Insouciant as she might appear, at bottom she loved her little family, and if that meant going out in what was becoming a whopper of a storm, then she was going.
Tucker, realizing the humans couldn’t keep up, slowed. She’d forgotten for a moment about the fact that they followed on two feet, encumbered by winter wear.
She barked loudly.
Fair responded, “Hold hard, Tucker.”
Pewter, waited, closed her eyes. The snow, coming hard in swirling winds, stung her eyes.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” Tucker panted.
“It’s my new exercise program.” Pewter saw Fair’s huge frame loom in the snow, Cooper’s smaller one beside him.
Tucker knew how worried Pewter was. For one thing, she would never admit she was fat—and she just did. The dog turned to face the onslaught, Pewter shoulder to shoulder with her.
The humans kept up, since Tucker trotted now. Fortunately, the snow wasn’t deep yet. Footing could be dicey in those places where the old snow had hardened like vanilla icing, and in some spots, there was nothing but ice.
They pressed on, balloons of steam coming from four mouths, four heads down against the wind, which sounded like a Mercedes at full throttle.
As they began to climb, conditions worsened, but the exhausted dog never faltered, nor did the gray cat. Behind them, the humans—who were wiping the snow from eyes and eyelashes, breath coming sharper now—knew they had to keep going and stay together.
Slowed by conditions, they reached the walnut stand in forty minutes instead of thirty.
Tucker called, “Murphy!”
“Here!”
Even with the wind, the two humans heard the piercing meow.
Pewter raced to her friend, Tucker alongside, with Fair and Cooper almost at their heels, rejuvenated by Mrs. Murphy’s voice.
They found the cat draped over Harry’s head, her tail swishing to keep the snow from pasting Harry’s eyes and filling up her nostrils.
Fair and Cooper knelt down, and Cooper gently lifted the cap.
“God damn, that’s nasty,” she cursed.
Fair took Harry’s pulse, fingers cold since he’d pulled off his glove. “Strong.”
The snow had already covered the blood as well as Brother George’s tracks.
“Maybe we can rig up a sled like the Indians used: two poles crossed. I’ll put my coat on them to hold her,” Cooper offered.
“No tools. I can carry her down, but it will take a while.”
“I can do the fireman’s carry. Spell you.”
“You’re a good woman, Coop. Remind me to tell you that more often.”
Tucker and Pewter huddled around Mrs. Murphy, who was half frozen herself.
“Can you make it?” Tucker asked.
“Yeah.” Mrs. Murphy stretched, then shivered.
Fair touched the cat’s snow-covered head. “God bless you, Mrs. Murphy.” He looked over to Cooper. “You could carry her for a bit.”
“Will do.”
Fair stood back up, shook his legs, then knelt down and lifted Harry. Since he was accustomed to patients that weighed 1,200 pounds, Fair’s five-foot-seven-inch, one-hundred-forty-two pound wife felt light enough. He knew as time wore on she’d feel heavier and heavier, though.
He used the fireman’s carry and they began the trek down, at times hardly able to see. The ruts in the old wagon trail began to fill up, pure white with no rocks protruding. A few saplings here and there helped keep their bearings. Tucker and Pewter, better able to keep on track, also helped. Tucker barked if anything needed to be sidestepped or if the humans began to lose their way.
After twenty minutes, slipping and sliding now, Fair gently laid down Harry. He bent over, hands on knees, and gulped in air.
“I’ll take a turn.” Cooper was taller than Harry and accustomed to lifting human burdens on occasion—since a cop’s duties require many strange moments with truly strange people. The deputy grunted, but she hoisted Harry on her shoulders and stood up. “I won’t last as long as you did.”
“A breather helps.” He scooped up Mrs. Murphy, opening his coat and putting her inside, then zipping it back up, with her head outside for air.
To her surprise, Cooper lasted fifteen minutes, almost the rest of the way down the mountain.
She and Fair exchanged burdens. Mrs. Murphy noted that Pewter, quick to want to be carried, made not one peep.
Tucker and Pewter, wind to their tails now, pushed ahead. Occasionally the wind would swirl, a white devil blowing snow into their eyes and mouths again, but they turned their heads sideways, keeping on, always keeping on.
When they reached the creek, Fair again took a breather, sweat pouring over his forehead, little icicles forming.
Cooper picked up Harry again and struggled through the creek, as there was no way to jump it. Some water crept into her boots where the soles had worn. The shock of the frigid water energized her for a little bit, although her legs had begun to weaken. Her back was holding up, but her quads burned. She knew she couldn’t make it too long, and she hoped she could get back to the farm on her own steam.
Ten minutes seemed like a lifetime. Cooper faltered, lurched, and slowly sank to her knees so as not to drop Harry.
“You okay?” Fair knelt beside her.
She nodded, gasping for breath. “You hear stories,” she gulped again, “about guys carrying wounded buddies for miles in wartime.” Gulped again. “Heroes.”
In a quiet voice he said, “Love comes in many forms. Some times I think it’s disguised as duty. Are you sure you can make it?”
“I’m sure. Get her back. I’ll get there.”
“I’m not leaving you. This will turn into a real whiteout. You could be one hundred yards from the barn and not know it. We’ve got to stick together or we might not make it.”
“Okay. Let me see if my cell will work now.” She knew she usually couldn’t get a signal on the mountainside.
Fair handed Mrs. Murphy to Cooper, who put her in her coat, and Fair hoisted up Harry again.
Finally Cooper got a signal and called an ambulance. The line crackled, but she could hear and so could they. She told them to come to the Haristeens’. Next she called Rick.
Twenty minutes later, after Fair and Cooper took more breaks, they finally stumbled through the back door.
The ambulance arrived a few minutes after they did. Fair hadn’t even taken his coat off before the attendants bounded the gurney into the living room, where he and Cooper had placed Harry on the sofa.
“I’ll go with her,” Fair said.
“I’ll follow you with the truck,” replied Cooper.
“Don’t do that. You’ve done enough.”
“Won’t be long before the roads are treacherous and the only thing out there will be emergency vehicles. Also, I have my badge just in case. With any luck you can bring her home.”
Too tired to argue, he gratefully acceded. “I’ll see you there.”
Given the weather and the wrecks on the road, they made it to the emergency room in fifty minutes. Normally the trip would take thirty minutes.
Rick met Cooper there.
Back at the house, a warming Mrs. Murphy licked her paws. “Thanks, Pewter.”
“Don’t think I’ll do it again.” Pewter was feeling sufficiently relieved to sass.
Tucker and Murphy looked at each other, then the tiger cat rubbed across the dog’s broad chest, thanking her.
“Let’s pray that Mom is okay,” Tucker said.
“Take more than a crack on the head to keep her down,” Mrs. Murphy said, and the other two hoped she was right.
Since it was December 23, the staff at the hospital functioned at skeleton level. Fortunately, Dr. Everett Finch, a friend of Fair’s, was on duty in the ER. He X-rayed Harry’s skull and, t
o be safe, ran an MRI.
Fair, worn out, slumped on a bench in the corridor, Cooper beside him. She’d fallen asleep from the tremendous effort of getting Harry down from the walnut stand.
The doors swung open and Everett walked up to them. “She’s fine. No cracked skull. A concussion, sure enough, but she’ll be okay.”
Tears welled up in Fair’s blue eyes. “Thank God.”
Cooper, awake now, also misted up.
“She’s coming to. She may be nauseated, throw up. And there is some chance her vision will be blurred. You never really know with these things. And I can just about guarantee you that she will remember nothing, maybe not even the pain of being clobbered.” He paused. “Any idea who did this?”
“No,” Fair answered. “We don’t know why she walked halfway up the mountain with a storm coming. She can read the weather better than the weatherman, so you know whatever happened up there, it was important. I hope she can tell us something.”
“I suggest we keep her overnight and you pick her up in the morning.”
Alert now, Cooper asked, “You’re at bare-bones staff, right?”
“Holidays.” Everett smiled.
“Fair, we can’t leave her here. We know whoever attacked her is at large. And whoever attacked her risked a blizzard as much as she did. Our numbers are down, too.” She meant that most people in the sheriff’s department were home for Christmas. “She can be better protected at home.” Cooper stood up to face Everett. “Doc, this is a dangerous situation.”
Upset by this news, he quietly inquired, “You really think someone would come into the hospital?”
“I do. And they will be armed. I’m pretty sure this may be connected to the murders of the two monks.”
What she didn’t want to say was that, if someone came in unarmed, given low staff numbers and part-time help, they might easily slip by a police guard. Also, the animals proved a good warning system at home.
“Jesus.” He whistled.
“You would help us if you’d instruct anyone who has seen Harry, and this includes the ambulance driver, not to tell anyone. They might actually keep their mouths shut if you inform them they could be in danger themselves if the perp finds out they had contact with her today.” Cooper breathed in. “We’re dealing with someone who is both twisted and ruthless, someone who arouses no suspicion.” Cooper thought to herself that Everett had no idea how ruthless.
“I’ll see to it.” Everett compressed his lips, then turned to his friend. “Keep her quiet.”
The ambulance crawled on the way back to the farm. The snowplows worked, but there weren’t enough of them to adequately deal with the weather. Virginia, blessed with four distinct seasons, benefited from mild winters compared to Maine. But winter did arrive, and Crozet rested near the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains, so it was colder there. Often the mountains and the close foothills got more snow than even Charlottesville.
Fair sat next to Harry, as Cooper followed in her squad car. Her feet felt like ice blocks since her pants and socks remained wet. The department allowed the officers to take their vehicles home. Cooper used the car for work, obviously, but when Fair had called, suspecting trouble, she prudently drove over in the squad car. She talked to Rick as she drove.
“We don’t have anyone to spare to set up a guard.”
“I know, boss. I’ll take turns with Fair. By December twenty-sixth, we might be able to round someone up or maybe I can find personal security. Fair will spare no expense.”
“Harry won’t stand for it.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid of that myself. I don’t know who’s out there and I don’t usually worry. I mean, we deal with thieves, con men, assault and batteries all the time, plus the occasional murder, usually fueled by alcohol or infidelity, but this—this is different. And I’m scared.”
“I know what you mean. I don’t think the killer is going to come after her, but we sure could find ourselves surprised.”
“Yeah, I know. I think this is someone who is acceptable to the community, someone we see most every day,” she replied.
Rick sighed. “Yeah. We’re lucky Harry didn’t have her throat slit.” He stopped.
“I think the storm saved her. That and Mrs. Murphy and Tucker.” Cooper had already told him about the animals.
“Could be right. Keep me posted.”
She clicked off, concentrating on the faint taillights in front of her. Initially, she’d been disappointed when Lorenzo went home to Nicaragua for the holidays, but now she was glad, because she wouldn’t have been able to spend much time with him. She liked him—more than liked him—cherishing every moment they could be together. He’d be with her for New Year’s. That was a happy thought.
In the ambulance, Harry finally regained full consciousness. She tried to sit up, but Fair gently kept her down.
“Where am I?” Then she put her hand to her head, wincing, feeling the tight stitches on the part of her scalp that was shaved.
“On the way home.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Here.” He held a plastic bag for her, since Everett had told him she might well throw up.
She did. Not much to it except excruciating pain. She flopped back on the gurney. “I’ve never felt so bad in my life.”
“Keep quiet, honey. You’ll feel much better tomorrow.”
“What happened?”
“You got hit over the head. Can you tell me why you were up there?”
She whispered with her eyes closed, as if that would diminish the pain: “At least one hundred thousand dollars in a green toolbox.”
He held her hand. “That’s enough for now. Do you think you can sleep?”
“Maybe. I’m dizzy.”
“Can you see clearly?”
“I can see you. Looks white out the back ambulance window.”
“Blizzard. Sleep, sweetie.”
She conked out again. He held his palm to her forehead. She was sweating a little, but he couldn’t discern a fever. A concussion doesn’t bring on a fever, but the vet in him made him want to check everything.
Once at the farm, the ambulance driver and his assistant rolled Harry into the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed. She awoke, then fell back to sleep again as all three animals sat quietly on the floor.
Fair gave the two men a one-hundred-dollar tip, reminded them to say nothing, and then wished them a merry Christmas.
With Cooper’s help, they got Harry out of the hospital shift, slid her under the covers, and walked back to the living room.
“Cooper, you go on home. I don’t think anyone is going to invade the farm in a blizzard, and Tucker will sure let me know if anyone does.”
Cooper sank into a wing chair and thought about this. “I’ll be over in the morning to take a turn. I don’t even trust leaving her alone while you do the barn chores.”
Relief flooded his face. “Thanks, pal.”
Tears formed in both their eyes again, a combination of recognizing what a near miss this was, pure physical exhaustion, and wondering what in the hell would happen next.
Cooper now struggled to get up from her chair.
“She told me there was about one hundred thousand dollars in a toolbox up there.”
Cooper dropped back down. “Damn!”
“Why the hell leave it by the walnut stand—” He stopped himself. “I think I know. Some of the monks know that stand. It belonged to Susan’s uncle. They may have seen it when they checked timber growth with him. And I expect there were some hard feelings when he didn’t leave it to the brotherhood, the old brotherhood.”
“Money can sure bring out the worst in people. The walnut stand isn’t all that far from the monastery.” Cooper rubbed her forehead with her right hand. “Ten thousand dollars on your kitchen table. How that money got here is anyone’s guess, but if Harry says there was a cornucopia up the mountain, then you know there was.”
“I brought the money.” Tucker looked at them
with her deep-brown eyes.
Fair reached out to pet the silky head. “I hope whoever hit her doesn’t know we have some of the money.”
Cooper shrugged. “No way to tell.”
“Well, we know one thing more than we did yesterday: the finger points to the top of the mountain.”
“Yes, it does. Well, let me get home. And let’s hope the power doesn’t go off or there will be pipes bursting all over central Virginia.”
“You’ve got a generator?”
“Do. Hooked up just in case.”
“Good.”
She pushed herself up once again. At the kitchen door, Fair hugged Cooper and kissed her on the cheek.
“I can never repay you, Coop.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She hugged him back. When she put on her coat, they both noticed some blood on the back. Fair’s coat also had blood drippings. They’d been too distracted to notice before now. “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning bill.”
“Fair, no.”
She called when she made it home.
Fair stoked the fire. Next he warmed special food for the animals, because they had braved this storm, too. He owed them as much as he owed Cooper.
Then he stripped and took a hot shower, which almost got the chill out of his bones, and he stoked the fire one more time. He wanted to crawl in bed with Harry, but he was afraid if he turned in the night or bumped her, he’d hurt her. He pulled out four blankets, put two on the floor at the foot of the bed, two over him, and used one pillow. The three animals cuddled with him. He fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.
Miraculously, the power stayed on.
Faint light shone through the windows at seven-thirty on Christmas Eve morning. Harry reached over for Fair, touched empty space, and quickly sat up. The cut on her scalp hurt. Her head throbbed.
She tiptoed to where Fair, sound asleep, was spread out. Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter snuggled with him.
She put her finger to her lips. Tucker knew that signal. Harry went into the bathroom and tried to look at her scalp in the mirror. The blood had been washed from the wound, but a little had seeped afterward. Since the wound was on the back of her head, she couldn’t see it. She picked up a washrag, wet it, and pressed it to the wound. Stung like the devil. Tears sprang up, but she kept the warm washrag there, then rinsed it out. She brushed her teeth, quite grateful that she was no longer dizzy or nauseated when she bent over. She had to laugh at her “do” and figured she’d be wearing baseball hats until the hair grew over the shaved wound.
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