by Julie Howard
The afternoon before, Honey was surprised at her request for more target practice. “This may be more of a springtime activity,” she suggested. “There’s more than a foot of snow on the ground and more coming, I hear.”
Meredith jutted out her chin. “I don’t mind going out by myself. The cold won’t bother me.”
“I don’t think you’re quite ready to be turned loose on your own. Let me get my woolens on and we’ll give it a go for twenty minutes.”
They settled Jamie and Atticus in front of the TV with a snack and blankets, and Meredith plugged away, trying aimlessly to hit a cardboard box. Even with the larger target, she missed every time. She knew she would eventually get the hang of it. Reloading came easier now, and she was certain her aim would improve with a few more lessons.
A giggle and a thump startled her out of her daydreaming. There was something about the giggle’s pitch that made her rise out of bed. There were good giggles and the type children gave when they were doing something they shouldn’t. This was definitely the second type.
She headed to her kids’ room, the one they now shared since Jamie’s ceiling collapsed, and realized with a jolt the door to her daughter’s old room was open. A cold breeze flowed through the house and she strode forward faster. The roof was unstable and dangerous in there. Jamie knew she was supposed to stay out.
“Mommy.” Her daughter’s voice was delighted as she saw Meredith at the doorway of her room. “See what we did.”
Meredith gaped at the sight before her in dismay. The tarp blew off the hole above at some point in the night and snow piled into the room. The carpet was a frozen blanket of white. Her children must have arisen early because in the middle of the room, below the hole, they’d built a snowman.
Chapter Seventeen
Seeing a snowman in her house spurred Meredith into action. She needed to get out of her house for the day. Let the storms blow through the roof and fill the house chin deep. What difference did it make? There was no point in taking the final exam, of course. She knew this but not taking the test would require too much explaining to everyone. It was easier to take it, pass or fail, and then she could put college behind her. She could focus on the present and future needs of herself and her children.
The rumble of a snowplow echoed as the heavy vehicle worked its way down her road from the main road and back. At least one person in this county did their job, she thought with relief. That’s what she believed until they drove down the road and she found the plow driver once again created a narrow and winding snake path. She turned the steering wheel one way and then the other, creeping along the cleared tracks and wondering why on earth someone would continue to plow the road to her house in such a strange manner. The driver must be drunk or half asleep and surely inept. It was strange her road was the only one plowed in such a crazy, serpentine pattern.
She delivered Jamie to the school bus stop in time and dropped Atticus off with Honey.
“You sure you don’t want to stay here and use my computer?” Honey asked. “It’s a bad day to go up.”
Meredith stood at the doorway, not even stepping inside. “I need to check out a book at the library,” she lied smoothly. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Just don’t drive like you shoot.”
She didn’t ask if Gemma’s baby was going to be there, too; what did this matter either? If Gemma was marrying Egan and staying, there’d be no avoiding baby Brian. If Meredith took her children and left, they’d never see Gemma’s baby again.
White blanketed the road up the mountain and no tire marks were on the road for her to follow. Fresh crust collapsed under her car’s tires and she kept as close to the mountainside as she dared, worrying about hitting a buried rock or shrub at the edge of the road. Better to hit a rock than plummet over the side of the cliff, she assured herself. Progress was slow but her confidence grew the farther she drove. By the time she was three-quarters the way up the mountain she wondered why she’d been so apprehensive about driving. She slowed her car to a crawl as she made the sharp curves, turned her wheel into skids whenever the tires slipped, and kept moving forward.
When she passed the “Road Closed For Winter” sign, she felt like a real Idahoan. Rugged and self-sufficient. She’d traveled this road numerous times and an extra dusting wasn’t going to stop her. The librarian would be impressed by her tenacity, though Meredith didn’t know exactly why she craved this approval. Just this one last time up the road and it could snow to the treetops. For now, she could manage. Nothing was going to stop her.
The library’s parking lot was empty and Twin Lakes’ roads were free of tire marks. No one else possessed the nerve, as she did, to drive in the soft snow. One set of footprints led down the street to the library’s front doors and she was assured of a quiet room during her final exam.
Leona sat behind the counter, another thick book on her lap. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t appear pleased to have company.
Meredith was annoyed at the chilly reception. The woman acted as though this was a private residence and not a public office, funded by taxpayers. “You’re open? I have some work to do.”
The librarian glared at her. “You drove up the mountain, in these conditions, with a storm coming in? Just what we expect of you lowlanders though; every year someone gives the roads a try and slides off the side of the mountain. Never fails.”
“The roads weren’t bad at all. I didn’t slide much.”
“Just takes once.” Leona returned to the book on her lap, one of a popular children’s series about dragons and werewolves.
Meredith hesitated, wanting to jolt the woman out of her peevishness, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Dismissed, she turned her focus to taking her final exam. The room stayed empty of any other patrons over the following two hours and she labored in silence. Once started, the test questions became a personal challenge to overcome, a representation of other challenges yet to be met. The test was difficult but by the time the last question was answered, she felt she’d done well enough to pass the course. Even if her grade didn’t matter, there was no point in doing a poor job.
Papers packed up and the chemistry book closed for the last time, her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment. Then, in the search field she typed in: “destroying angel.” Hundreds of websites popped up on the subject of the white Amanita, otherwise known as the destroying angel for its wicked deadliness.
“Infamously deadly,” one site read. “Among the most toxic known mushrooms,” read another. “Affects all living tissue.”
Pictures of the all-white mushroom showed them bulbous in their youth and appearing more like button mushrooms as they matured. At full growth, the tops opened outward and displayed white gills underneath, reminding her of angels spreading their wings. There was a certain beauty in the pictures, which only accentuated her growing horror as she read on.
Adding to their lethal-ness was the fact symptoms tended not to appear until toxins were already absorbed, causing irreparable damage to internal organs and spiraling the unlucky person toward coma and death. Vomiting, she read with a jolt, was a primary symptom. Survival came only to the most fortunate. Appropriately named indeed, she thought.
She sat back in her chair, thankful she always avoided eating any mushrooms if she could help it. Her heart thumped in her chest as she stretched her arms forward and typed in “heart attack symptoms.” Over and over, results showed nausea and vomiting as one possible symptom. Just one symptom among many, she read. There were so many questions crowding her mind. Someone in Twin Lakes had answers. She logged off the computer.
“I saw you going into the church that day,” Leona said as Meredith headed to the exit.
She heard an accusation in the librarian’s tone and waited for more.
“There wasn’t trouble here until you showed up. Now Jacob’s gone and our priest too. I don’t know if I like you in my library.”
Being cursed wasn’t anyth
ing Meredith hadn’t already considered. Bad luck clung to her. As hard as she tried to change her life, unfortunate events continued to crop up. The librarian’s eyes were wide, with a touch of concern at the edge of her expression.
She’s afraid of me, Meredith realized. “None of this is my fault,” she said.
Leona looked doubtful and Meredith plunged out the library doors, wanting to get away from the woman’s critical stare. “Good luck going back down,” the librarian called after her.
Her satisfaction at finishing her test was ruined. She breathed in the frigid air and glanced around the snow-covered streets. There wouldn’t be another reason to return to the library until spring and there was no reason at all to make peace with this churlish woman.
Flakes drifted in slow spirals, adding to the depth piled up already. Steel gray clouds drifted across the darkening sky and she felt a twinge of uneasiness that a bigger storm was building. Just takes once, Leona said. One slide would carry her off the edge of the mountain to her death. It was a spiteful thing to say, to fill her head with doubts. She’d gotten up the mountain; she would get down again.
Her old car with the dented door and spider-webbed crack on the windshield slumped in the parking lot. The timeworn sedan appeared better under the clean coating of white and she decided it could sit there a little longer. Brooke’s house was a short walk away and the church, with Father Michael, not much farther. It wouldn’t hurt to stop by and ask some questions. First and foremost would be when Brooke was returning to work.
The slush was deeper and wetter in Twin Lakes and twice she slipped and nearly fell. By the time she arrived at Brooke’s door, she was out of breath. Her feet were frozen and the bottom half of her jeans were soaked through.
“Mary.” Brooke didn’t seem surprised to see her, standing at the doorstep on a snowy day. Jacob was dead and buried, but the evidence of his wife’s crime would soon be unearthed in the exhumation. Brooke’s calm demeanor made her all the more determined to shake the woman’s cool.
“It’s Meredith.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Brooke said the words as though she were praising Meredith for knowing her own name, like a child in one of her classrooms.
“I was just…” She almost said she was just passing by, but this was ridiculous, considering Twin Lakes was miles up a snow-covered road from her home in Hay City. “…at the library and thought, maybe, we could talk.”
Brooke’s calm exterior stayed unruffled. She opened the door wider and let Meredith enter. This time, she didn’t lead her into the living room or offer coffee. Brooke stood in the entry, coldness in her expression and stance, and waited.
She hoped the woman didn’t notice her nervousness. It occurred to her there was a reason investigators worked in pairs when confronting a potentially dangerous suspect. “You never explained about the car…the brakes were never fixed.”
“You never explained how this is your business,” Brooke retorted, the demure woman from the previous visit gone. “They’re digging up my husband, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t sorry at all. “I met him and was worried about him and the things he said. When he died…”
The house was silent. Water puddled on the floor beneath Meredith’s boots. She breathed in a pleasant scent of cinnamon and pumpkin and noticed a small artificial Christmas tree set up on a table, tinsel dripping from the branches. A twinge of anxiety went through her about the coming holiday and shopping to do with money she didn’t have. She wondered at how Brooke still wanted to celebrate Christmas right after her husband died. In her own home, the holiday would need to be downplayed. It would evoke so many memories in Jamie—and herself.
Brooke shifted on her feet. “Jacob was prone to exaggeration. The brakes needed replacing but they weren’t dangerous. With just me working right now, paying for repairs wasn’t in our budget. I’m not surprised Jacob said those things to you. He was having a tough time, having so much time and nothing to do.”
The explanation sounded reasonable, but still didn’t explain Jacob’s fears about his wife.
“He said…” Meredith started, but Brooke interrupted.
“I know, I know.” She put a hand up to cover her eyes, but the move appeared contrived. She lowered her hand. “He was fired from his job, for that kind of irrational behavior, the things he’d say. Even to complete strangers.”
Meredith glanced at the window and where a fresh shower of white spilled from the sky. The drive down the mountain would be more challenging and she hoped her own car’s brakes were up to the task. She needed to leave but, even more, needed to hear what Brooke had to say. The confidence which grew in her after Brian died was gone. Jacob’s death unnerved her and she needed to put it right, as though doing so would put her own life back on course.
“He was taking medication for depression as well as anxiety,” Brooke added. “One rare side effect of the medication is heart arrhythmia leading to heart attack. The doctor knew all this. The sheriff too. I guess you believe you should know all about us too. People love gossip, don’t they?”
The remark hit home. “I’m not here for gossip,” Meredith protested. “It’s just, he needed someone to listen to him, and I didn’t do a good job. I feel like I let him down.”
Brooke gave her an assessing look. “This isn’t your business. You should go home.”
Doubt flooded her mind. Jacob suffered some type of mental anguish and could have inflated his wife’s actions and motivations. She put a hand on the doorknob; there was nothing more to say.
Brooke didn’t budge. “Tell Jamie I’ll be back at school soon. Your daughter’s gotten the whole school calling me the princi-pess. She’s a sweet girl.”
The door opened with a whisper and she was back in the snow in a flash. Brooke stood at the doorway, an ice queen unfazed by the cold. The door swung shut.
Heavy, wet flakes plopped onto her hair as she trudged back to her car. Her apprehension grew about the stealthy storm descending on the mountain, blunting her vision. She blinked snowflakes away. Getting down the mountain was going to take all her concentration and new found winter driving skills. She wasn’t feeling quite as confident now.
Brooke’s words echoed in her mind and Meredith considered whether the words were a threat. I’ll be back at school soon.
****
Anxiety grew into alarm as her car inched downhill, swimming more than driving through the sloppy roads. A few times, the tires spun uselessly before finding traction once more. Still, Twin Lakes fell farther behind and as her car rounded each bend in the mountain, she celebrated a little victory. The “Road Closed” sign was still somewhere ahead and this became her goal. If I can make it to the sign, it’ll be okay. Both hands clenched the steering wheel and her body was taut. Despite the cold radiating through the windows, dampness grew under her arms as her tension increased. She eased the brakes around curves and tried to keep the car at a steady, slow pace even as gravity pulled it down the hill faster. I’ll be back at school soon. Brooke’s words nagged and distracted her.
A strange odor, of burning and something acrid, crept into the cabin of the car and Meredith wondered if this was the last trip her car would ever make. How much more punishment would this old heap handle? It shouldn’t have lasted this long, with the screeching noises and smoke plumes upon starting. Maybe Brian was right, she thought. Maybe I’ll have this car for a very long time.
Her husband was exultant upon presenting her with the car, dents and all. She recalled the day, early in the spring, with snow still heavy on the ground and Brian still alive. Her mind flew back to that moment, picturing her husband, vibrant and hot-tempered. So many secrets emerged out since then. She felt like Pandora would have, opening a box and unleashing evil into the world. Everything might have been different if she never found those boxes, filled with money and pictures, spilling out his secret life. I’ll be back at school soon, resounded in her mind. She recalled the libraria
n’s words: There wasn’t trouble here until you showed up.
The sensation of gliding snapped her back to the present with a start. Before her was a curve in the road and the car tires were sliding, not rolling, toward the cliff’s edge. In panic, she pressed hard on the brakes and focused on the precipice rushing toward her. Turning into the slide meant she’d aim directly toward death. Survival instinct took over and she swiveled the steering wheel furiously away from the drop off. The action propelled the car even quicker toward the edge and Meredith closed her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My last thoughts on earth.
With a crunch, the car stopped, jolting into a snow bank at the mountain’s rim. A rushing filled her ears and her heart thumped a wild rhythm as she came to terms with the fact she was still alive. Around her, snow fell in thick flakes. She watched them gather on the windshield as her breath slowed. Alive. She was alive.
When she was ready, she shifted into reverse. The tires spun and the engine whined in protest. The car didn’t budge as she stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The vehicle settled deeper and an angry plume of dark smoke rose from the exhaust. She shoved the door open and stepped out into knee-deep drifts to see her tires buried to their tops in the snow.
She looked up the road and then down, and finally reached in the car to turn the key off. No one else was foolish enough to drive into a storm. She calculated it was five miles to Twin Lakes, too far a distance to hike up the mountain in the snow. There was no question of walking down the mountain, it being miles farther to Hay City.
This is how people die. They get stuck and if they don’t freeze to death, a hungry bear comes along.
She climbed back into the car and slammed the door, closing out those possible deaths, and debating two unpleasant options. Stay and starve, or go and freeze. She was a foolish lowlander, indeed, to cross a “Road Closed” sign.