In Winter's Grip

by Brenda Chapman

  I returned to my task with renewed concentration, determined to finish the work I’d laid out for myself. The more progress I made now, the quicker I could return to Sam and the security of our lives in Ottawa. Once I was sure Jonas was safe and back on track, I would leave and never come back.

  When I had wrapped and stored as many of my mother’s possessions as I could find, I stood and stretched. My legs had cramped, and I walked gingerly around the space to ease the aching in my joints. Near the bed, I stopped and put a hand to my wildly beating chest. I turned toward the door and froze in place. Something had struck the floor in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs and clattered across the floor. Seconds later, a floorboard creaked. Somebody was in the house. Had I locked the back door? Was somebody even now creeping up the stairs hoping to catch me by surprise?

  I forced myself to leave the bedroom and walk the length of the hallway, eerily layered in darkness. I stood at the head of the steep stairs and peered down into the shadowy blackness. “Tobias, is that you?” I called, my voice echoing hollowly in the stairwell. “Claire? Is anybody there?”

  I could sense another person in the house. It was as if the walls surrounding us held their collective breath, waiting for me to make a move. I took a tentative step forward then stopped. If someone was here to do me harm, I would face them square on. I would not go gently. I stepped more determinedly back onto the landing and felt along the wall until my hand touched the light switch. The stairwell leapt into brightness. Nobody was standing on the stairs or in the hallway. I raced back into the bedroom that my father had made into a workout room and searched for a weapon by the light from the hall. My hand closed on a five pound weight, which should give me a chance. My movements were reflected back at me in the semi-gloom by the mirror lining the wall.

  Seconds later, I was back at the head of the stairwell. A scramble of footsteps and the backdoor banging sent me racing down the stairs two at a time. I was too late to catch them. I flicked on the outside lights, but whoever had been in the house had disappeared into the night. Mushy footsteps were visible on the deck, but half-filled with water. They offered no clue that I could see. I leaned against the doorjamb and considered my options. I could give chase, or I could lock up the house and tell Tobias what had happened. I preferred the second option. I’d used up all the bravery I had in my frantic rush to meet the intruder. I shut the door hard and locked it before going in search of my jacket and boots.

  I drove faster than I should have down the country road to my brother’s house. It was a relief to see Claire’s van in the driveway. Lights were on in the kitchen and living room as well as the back porch. I parked behind Claire, took my glove off as I walked, and slid my hand along the hood of her van. Heat radiated from its engine. Claire must have just gotten home not long ahead of me.

  I found her reading a magazine at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her and a fresh cigarette burning in the ashtray at her elbow. Her head was tilted and resting on a hand cupped under her chin. She looked up as I entered. Sometimes I forgot how beautiful she was. When the tension left her body and her features were relaxed, she was striking.

  Black hair tucked behind her ears emphasized high cheekbones and wide doe-shaped eyes, steel grey in the bright kitchen light. “There you are, Maja. I was about to send out the troops.”

  “I was at Dad’s most of the day.”

  “Ahh. Well, I had a pleasant surprise today. I came home and found Jonas sleeping on the couch.”

  “He’s home?”

  “He is. He was discharged in the morning but didn’t tell me. Says it felt good to walk outside again, and he didn’t want to bother me at work.”

  I dropped into the chair across from her. “That’s good news anyhow. Where’s Jonas now?”

  “Sleeping upstairs. I nipped out to get some cigs, and he was heading up to bed. Said he was still exhausted but feeling more like himself. Gunnar is spending the night at his friend’s.”

  I watched her eyes. “Have you heard that Becky Wilders is missing?”

  Claire’s gaze didn’t waver. “No, I didn’t know. Has she skipped town?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  Claire picked up her cigarette and inhaled deeply. She blew the smoke out in a stream. “It didn’t look to me like she and Kevin were getting along all that well. He’s at the garage all the time, and she’s stuck at home with his brats.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re very fond of Becky...or her kids.”

  “Why would I be?” Claire’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “It was awfully uncomfortable with her around when Jonas and I were first married, and it’s never been great between us. She told people she was waiting for Jonas to see the light and go back to her. I hate it when women can’t let go, especially when they’re not wanted. Jonas needed her clinging onto him like a hole in the head.”

  The cold animosity in Claire’s voice was reflected in the hardness of her eyes, and I couldn’t match her stare for long. “Did you know Becky was seeing Dad this past year?” I asked.

  Claire snorted. “The whole town knew. I’m surprised Kevin didn’t do something about it.” Her eyes turned cunning. “Or maybe he has.”

  A noise in the hallway made us both turn our heads toward the door. Jonas was standing in the entranceway with his hands at his side, watching us. He wore jeans and a cable knit sweater, and he hadn’t shaved in several days, but his eyes were clear and his hands were still. I stood to hug him, my discussion with Claire momentarily forgotten. Jonas hugged me back, but just barely.

  “I see my wife’s been keeping you amused. She’s good at keeping people entertained.” Jonas’s voice was bitter.

  A look passed between them so angry that I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. Suddenly, more than anything, I wanted to walk out into the night and never come back. I’d leave Jonas to his fate and Claire to her misery.

  Jonas sensed my change in mood. He’d always been sensitive to me, even when his despair was at its worst. His eyes softened.“Want to walk with me to Hadrian’s?” he breathed into my ear.

  I hesitated, then nodded. “If you’re up to it.”

  “I am.” He looked back at Claire. “Maja and I are going out. Don’t wait up.”

  Claire didn’t bother to respond. She’d already lowered her head to read the magazine, her hand reaching for her cigarette, her beauty momentarily extinguished by the ugly scowl marring her features.

  In the end, we drove to Hadrian’s in my car. The melting snow had created huge puddles that made walking unpleasant, especially in the dark. Jonas looked worn out from his stay in the hospital and agreed without arguing at my offer to drive. We chose a table in the corner near the fireplace. Somebody I didn’t know was celebrating a fortieth birthday on the other side of the room with a boisterous crowd of friends. The noise was a welcome kind of energy. It had been a while since I’d heard laughter and people having a good time. It took my mind off the fear I’d experienced in my father’s house. This was an ordinary night with ordinary people who weren’t worried about a killer breaking into their home. Hadrian brought us a couple of beers but didn’t linger. He was alone and the place was hopping.

  I angled my chair so that I could study my brother. His hair had the brittle look of someone who’s been ill, and his skin was just this side of waxen, but the anxiety was gone from his eyes. By the looseness of his shirt, he’d dropped several pounds, weight he could ill-afford to lose. He met my stare.

  “Just a mini-meltdown, but sorry you had to see it.” His crooked grin was tired.

  “Don’t concern yourself. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” I put my hand on his wrist for a moment before pulling it back to lift my beer.

  “I’ll be sleeping more than usual, but the hole is getting some sunlight. Galloway is getting good at pumping me with the right dose of medication now. It doesn’t take as long as it used to before the fog lifts. There are shades of grey now and not just bottomless bla
ck.”

  “Gradients of light are always there in the black, even when you think nothing will be right again,” I said.

  Somebody let out a whoop at the party table. Mick Jagger began singing “Brown Sugar” in the overhead speakers. Jonas and I watched the drunken revelry for a bit, each lost in our own thoughts. Hadrian crossed the floor to another table with a full tray of drinks held high above his head.

  “Did you know Dad was visiting the Fortune Bay Casino on a regular basis?” I asked.

  ‘Doesn’t surprise me. Is that where he got the money for the boat and truck?”

  “No. Does make you wonder what he was up to, though.”

  Jonas started peeling the label off his bottle. “I found her, you know,” he said. “That day. I wish I’d never gone. It always slides back to that moment whenever I have these...episodes.” His fingers began picking more frenetically at the paper. His eyes were wide and unblinking.

  “Found who?” I wasn’t following his train of thought. Maybe the medication was affecting his short-term memory.

  He set the bottle on the table but kept both hands wrapped around its base, like he was holding onto a lifeline. “Mom. Mother. That day. It was me who found her.” Jonas turned his tortured blue eyes to mine, and I knew it was the first time he’d spoken of it.

  “I thought it was Dad who found her.” My voice was rising, and I made myself stay calm. “Why did you never tell me?”

  Jonas shrugged. “What good could it do? It wouldn’t have brought her back.”

  My mind scrambled back in time. I’d been as much a basket case as Jonas. I’d avoided Duved Cove after the funeral. Guilt filled me. Jonas kept talking.

  “I still wake up sometimes, seeing her swinging there from the rafter—I cut her down and tried...tried to breathe life into her. Her feet and hands were blue. Her tongue was sticking out sideways, and her face...” Jonas’s voice trailed off. He dropped his head and clasped both hands in front of him as if he were praying. “She would have hated anybody to see her that way. I knew she was gone, but I tried. I got her down and did mouth to mouth and pumped her chest. I kept thinking it couldn’t be true, that I was going to wake up from the nightmare. I couldn’t believe she’d leave us that way. I didn’t know how I was going to tell you.”

  I slid off my chair and knelt beside him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tight, my head against his stomach. One of his hands came down to rest on my head, and he smoothed back my hair over and over again. When I finally sat back in my chair, my cheeks were salty with tears that I brushed away with the back of my hand. I looked past Jonas towards the bar and saw Hadrian quickly avert his eyes from mine. I couldn’t worry about what he had seen. Let him think what he would.

  “I always believed it was Dad who’d found her,” I said softly. “How cruel that it was you.”

  Jonas squared his chair so that he was facing me. Our knees were touching. “Something happened that pushed her over the edge. Dad was gone for a reason, and I don’t know what it was. I couldn’t reach you until the next morning, and he showed up home just before you made it from Bemidji.”

  I shook my head. “This is not how I remember it. You’re rewriting history, and I can’t take it in.” Questions needed answering. “How did Dad seem when he got home?”

  “Tired. Hung over...relieved when he found out.”

  “No,” I wailed.

  “I thought I was mistaken, that he couldn’t be happy that she was dead. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to believe I misread his look.”

  “Did he ever say where he’d been? What their last conversation was about?”

  Jonas shook his head. “He never spoke of it. The times I asked, he changed the subject.”

  We looked at each other then, mutual horror rising in our psyches like a Fundy tide. I had blamed my father for my mother’s death, but never like this, never contemplating that he’d been happy to have her commit suicide.

  “My god, Jonas. What happened? What was so much worse between them that she killed herself?”

  Jonas whispered, “And why was he so glad she did?”

  TWENTY-ONE

  I drove Jonas home and went in search of Tobias. It was time to tell him about Becky’s affair with my father and his possible affair with Claire. I was too tired to tackle Claire on my own. I knew that my close relationship with Jonas would prevent her from ever confiding in me. By telling Tobias, I knew that I was opening up Jonas to possible motive, but I also knew he was innocent of killing our father. Call it putting on blinders, but if Jonas hadn’t killed my father after finding my mother hanging in the basement, he never would. He did not have it in him.

  I first drove past the police station at the edge of the downtown. It was a squat red brick building set back a little from the street by a circular driveway. It was also locked up tight with a notice on the door that listed numbers to call in case of an emergency. My information about Becky and my father didn’t seem like an emergency, but I wasn’t prepared to go home yet.

  I cruised towards Tobias’s apartment building, not really expecting him to be home. I wasn’t disappointed. His car was not in its parking spot, and the lights were out in his windows.

  He was probably out looking for Becky, if she hadn’t been found. I sat in the back parking lot for a full minute, deciding where to look next. It struck me that the best place to find out if Becky had been found would be from Kevin, and I put the car into gear. Hopefully, Tobias had been in touch with Kevin or would be again soon.

  Kevin and Becky’s house was lit up, a light on in every room, as if Kevin were using the house as a beacon to draw Becky home. his tow truck was in the driveway with a police car parked behind it. I gave silent thanks as I pulled my car over as far as I could on the other side of the road. I stepped out of the car and into a black puddle that wrapped my foot in cold water inside my boot.

  “Crap,” I said and pushed my other leg over the puddle, managing to keep one foot dry. I shook one leg like a dog in the middle of the road before limping my way to the Wilders’ front door. Kevin answered my ring almost immediately. His face was haggard, his jowls drooping and his eyes lined with red. I knew immediately that Becky was still missing. I reached partway around his shoulder in an awkward hug.

  “No word then?”

  “No. Nothing. Come in, Maja. I’m just talking to Tobias.”

  Kevin stepped back, and I had a clear view of Tobias sitting on the couch in the living room drinking from a mug. He lifted a hand in greeting, his face relaxed and his eyes watchful. From the back of the house, I could hear the television and the murmur of girls’ voices, likely the fourteen-year-old twins.

  “I just made coffee,” Kevin said. “I’ll get you a cup.”

  “Thanks, Kevin. I don’t mean to intrude.” I pulled off my boots, and the right one came off with a sucking sound that made Tobias smile. I tried to let the carpet soak up the worst of the wetness from my sock as I limped over to sit on the couch next to him.

  “I was looking for you, actually,” I whispered as I sat down. “I have something...private...to tell you.”

  Tobias’s eyebrows went up. “You’ve come to your senses and know we’re made for each other?” He grinned, but it was a tired attempt at levity.

  “What makes me think you’ve used that line before? No, I need to speak with you alone, in private.”

  “Alone, in private. I’ve been waiting for years to hear those words come out of your mouth, Maja.”

  “This isn’t the time to joke. I have information that could be important.”

  “You’re right.” His eyes went toward the doorway as Kevin walked into the room. He was holding another mug of coffee as he lumbered toward me. The cup splashed hot coffee onto my hand as he handed it to me, but he didn’t notice.

  “No sign of Becky,” he said as he plopped down onto a wingback chair. The legs bounced under his weight. “It looks like she’s left Duved Cove and run out on me and the kids.”


  I turned to Tobias. “Is that what you’ve concluded after only a few hours of looking?”

  “She’s an adult, Maja, capable of walking out and never being found if she doesn’t want to be. Of course, we’re going to keep looking, but it’s a real possibility that she left on her own steam.” Tobias’s eyes signalled a warning.

  I glanced over at Kevin, who looked uncomfortable. He nodded.

  “She left one other time, about a year back. Went to her sister’s in Wisconsin. I’m hoping that’s where she went this time too. I’ve put in a call, and we’ll know as soon as she arrives.”

  I sipped my coffee. She should already be there, if she’d left the night before. I didn’t give voice to my doubt.“I spoke with her last night at the hospital,” I offered, and both Kevin and Tobias sat up straighter to look at me. “I went to see Jonas. Becky and I chatted for a minute at the front desk.”

  “That must have been before I saw you outside around eight thirty. You never mentioned talking with Becky,” Tobias said. The lightness had left his voice.

  “Her shift was over at eight. You might have been the last one to see her besides her replacement,” Kevin said. “She never came home.”

  “Yes, it would have been close to eight. She was reading a magazine.”

  “Was she upset by anything?” Tobias was now watching me very closely.

  “No. Nothing I can think of.”