Bitter Cold

by J. Joseph Wright

  “Just look. My car didn’t roll far. It should be right there. Please, look!”

  “All right! All right,” Jenkins held up his hand. “Relax. Jeff, could you get her to calm down?”

  Jeff touched her shoulder. She coiled away.

  “It’s okay, April,” his face softened. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  She shuddered. Her numb fingers barely managed to find the pockets in her coat. The mucus running from her nose to her upper lip had crystalized and began to chip off. But the shivering. It was out of control. Still, she had to provide solid evidence to back up her story, and the only proof she had was her wrecked Neon. However, she knew that monster could have been lurking somewhere near, silently waiting to pounce.

  Jenkins sighed. “Here goes,” he stepped over the railing.

  “Wait!” she stopped him. “I can’t let you do it!”

  He gave her a suspicious look. “Now what is it? Are you changing your story again? You know, I think I’m getting the picture of what’s going on here.”

  “Nothing’s going on, officer, really,” she looked at him, at Jeff, then back to Jenkins. “I just-I don’t think it’s safe.”

  The cop laughed. “Shit! Really? You think?”

  “Jeff,” April lowered her voice. “It’s that creature. I saw it come up here earlier. It might still be there.”

  Jeff’s eyes widened. “Really? All the way up here?” he took a step back, shielding his boy with his body. “Officer Jenkins. I think you probably shouldn’t be doing that.”

  Jenkins cast his suspicious eye on Jeff. “You, too, huh? What are you guys up to, anyway?”

  Logan pushed his father’s waist. He carried a bulky, five million candlepower blowtorch of a flashlight. It took him two hands to hold it. “Come on, Dad. Let me see!”

  “No,” Jeff was stern. “You get back to the truck. We all should just get outta here. Never should’ve come out here in the first place.

  “Okay,” Jenkins smiled. “You got me. What’s up?”

  April became cross with the officer. “We’re not trying to screw with you! This is no bullshit! You’ve got to believe us!”

  “Come on, Jeff,” Jenkins gave him a pat on the back. “I mean, really, a monster turning the snow black and sliming around eating people?” he fixed on April. “And your story about some NWP guys running you off the road and shooting at you, and-and then being attacked and eaten—that’s good. Not the best I’ve heard, but good,” he winked and smiled at nobody in particular. “Hey, check this out. You’ll love this. One night a guy came in, swearing he saw a UFO. He had video and witnesses and everything. Turned out to be a bunch of drunks at a family reunion with some clay pigeons and a whole lotta time on their hands.”

  “Tommy!” Jeff shook his shoulders. “Listen to me! We’re not fucking with you! The creature is real,” he motioned to April. “We both saw it. To hell with your drunk UFO guy—we saw something real. We haven’t been drinking, and we aren’t playing some cheap prank!”

  Jenkins turned serious. “Jeff, for your sake, this better not be a joke. Because if it is, I’m gonna have to haul both of your asses in for issuing false statements, wasting government resources, and endangering a minor. And that’s just for starters. I’m sure I can find some more charges back at the station.”

  “False statements?” April pointed at the tangled pattern of tire tracks. “This is clear proof right here. Look at it,” she traced the path to the roadside. “You can see exactly what happened here. The tracks tell the whole story. Here’s where they ran me off the road. My car flipped over the embankment into the ravine. Down there.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a little problem with your story,” Jenkins gestured. “There’s no car. No half-eaten dead guy, and, by the way, no monster, either.”

  April shook her head. “That can’t be. There’s gotta be some kind of sign,” she mustered the courage to bring herself to the extreme edge where the steep slope led to her nightmares. She hated that place, yet she had to be strong. Logan gave her his flashlight and she flooded the hillside, all the way to the bottom. It gave her chills, the desolation. In some places, where the rocky terrain dominated, it seemed like an icy planet far from the sun. Scraggly, leafless monstrosities contorted and strained under their wintery burdens. If it weren’t for the evergreens peppering the landscape, it would have resembled a snow covered graveyard, the stumps and boulders doubling as headstones.

  Despite what she saw, what she didn’t see bothered her even more. Her Neon. It had vanished. She backed up and shined the light along the highway. Everything told her this had to be the place. Most convincing in her mind were the tire ruts. Deep, chaotic. They told the tale of a violent encounter, even if the cop didn’t want to admit it.

  “But it was down there. This is the place, I know it. It was right here. The tire tracks. The dent in the embankment…”

  Jenkins smacked his lips. “Those tracks could have been made by anyone. It’s icy out. People get stupid and don’t realize how little it takes to start sliding. Happens all the time,” he patted the compact white stuff with his foot.

  “I didn’t slide, I was pushed. By a truck that came from right there,” she pointed to the Trojan entrance not more than a hundred yards away.

  Jenkins began to speak, then stopped at the sound of a low rumble funneling through the vacant highway. Then headlights hit the white pavement, coming from Trojan.

  “Who the hell’s leaving there this time of night?” the cop squared his body toward the road.

  As the lights got brighter and brighter, Jenkins rested one hand on the butt of his sidearm. With the other, he held his flashlight straight ahead, cutting through the darkness. The truck maneuvered with caution, pulling to a stop when it got to the intersection with the main road.

  April squinted through the falling flakes at the big old pickup. An amber streetlight high atop a crooked pole provided enough illumination to see a large crane on the back, dangling chains, and solid metal bars where a bed should have been.

  “Well, what the hell do you know?” Jenkins sounded astonished.

  “A tow truck,” April felt her stomach turn at the sight of the damned thing. “Ten to one the guy driving it knows something.”

  Jenkins stiffened his jaw and looked at her. He said nothing. The truck hesitated, then pulled onto the highway, heading toward them. As it got closer, April saw orange flames painted on its hood. Jenkins remained wordless, watching.

  “You know I’m right,” April said. “All you have to do is talk to the guy. Ask him, before he gets away!”

  Jenkins looked at Jeff, at the truck, then at April again, shaking his head.

  “Dammit!” he bolted to the center of the road, waving his hands and shouting. “Stop!”

  The truck driver let off the accelerator, allowing his vehicle to coast before hitting the brakes. He stopped inches from the cop’s chest. Jenkins didn’t move. April could tell he’d had one of those moments. She’d had a couple, too, just a little while earlier when McCullah pointed his gun at her, and then again with the monster digesting him right in front of her. Face-to-face with oblivion. Eye-to-eye with death. It had a way of clearing the mind of all of life’s petty bullshit.

  The tow truck’s emergency lights competed with the red and blues on the police 4X4, making Jenkins look like a deranged circus clown. Surrounded by a sea of white, the effect was even more frightening, the way he contrasted against the pale background.

  April hurried closer while Jenkins made it to the driver’s door, holding his hand up as if to say, ‘stay put.’ Along the side of the truck she read, “Grampy’s Towing,” and an image popped in her head of an old, crusty man with black grease embedded in the creases of his hands and under his fingernails, oily gray hair, and a toothless grin.

  The door opened. Two dirty, black leather boots stepped onto the frigid ground. Instead of an ancient grease-hound wearing them, though, it was a young man. Somewhere in his mid-t
wenties, he had dark hair, almost black, and a piercing through his nose. He looked tall, at least six foot three. Would have been taller if he didn’t slouch so much. His bad posture made him look skinnier as well, though he seemed pretty slim. Skin and bones, more like.

  “I’m sorry, dude,” he explained. “I didn’t see you standing there until, like, the last minute. Dude, I could have killed you. Are you okay?”

  “Cut the shit, dude,” April took the laid-back young man by surprise. His eyes widened and he reared away from her. “What the fuck were you just up to?”

  “Hold on,” Jenkins held up his hand, signaling for her to shut up. “I’ll do the questioning, if you don’t mind,” he turned to the tow truck driver and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Mind if I see your license and registration? Proof of insurance, too.”

  The kid opened the passenger door, leaned in, and searched the cab for the appropriate documents. After gathering them up, he slid back out of the truck and handed them to the officer.

  Jenkins read the license. “Robert Worthington?”

  “Bobby.”

  “Bobby, we have a little problem. This lady says she was run off the road right there, just over the embankment. But her car’s not there. Now, I can’t help but notice you’re driving a tow truck, the very type of thing that could pull her vehicle out of the ditch. So, you’ve got to understand why I might be a little curious. I guess what I’m asking is, do you know anything about a red Dodge Neon over the edge, right down there?” he pointed.

  Bobby pointed, too. “Right over there?”

  “Yes,” Jenkins nodded. “Right there.”

  “You mean some kind of accident?”

  “That’s still under investigation. Do you know anything about it or not?”

  “No,” his eyes shot from one person to the next as if he needed to convince each of them individually.

  “Are you sure?” Jenkins asked.

  “He’s lying. I know he is,” April got in his face. “What were you doing at Trojan? Huh? Out on a joyride in three feet of snow?”

  Bobby stared at the ground. “I was just roaming, you know, looking for possible jobs. This highway’s full of them when the weather gets like this. The boss pays a little extra for inclement weather runs, so here I am.”

  Jenkins lifted his chin, his breath loitered in the steam. “Then you must have had some business tonight. Seen any action?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “No? None at all? I find that hard to believe.”

  “You’re tellin’ me. It’s been slow as hell, man. Tell you the truth, I kinda wish there was a car over the side of the road. That would earn me one hell of a commission,” he laughed. It didn’t convince April. It didn’t seem to fool the cop, either.

  “Let’s just cut to the chase, okay?” he put his arm around the truck driver. Bobby looked at the cop’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to ask you this not because I necessarily believe April, here, but I have to ask. Just for the sole reason that there are tire tracks that appear to be leading to the side of the road where she’s indicated the alleged incident occurred. I have to ask you, did you have anything to do with the removal and or recovery of the previously mentioned Neon?”

  Bobby swallowed hard, loud enough for April to hear over the tow truck’s constant rumble. “No,” his voice sounded rehearsed.

  “I don’t believe him,” April crossed her arms, though the stiffness of her frozen jacket made it tough. “He’s full of shit.”

  “I gotta go with her on this one,” Jeff nodded. “He just looks guilty.”

  Bobby stared at Jeff without blinking. His eyes watered at the icy wind. Then he piped up. “Hey, man. Can I go or what? I’ve got to get to Clatskanie by eleven. My girlfriend’s gettin’ off work, and if I’m not there right on time, she’s gonna freak.”

  Jenkins gave him the cop-eye, shining a light into Bobby’s chest and remaining straight-faced.

  “Am I under arrest or something,” Bobby looked perplexed. “Are you arresting me?”

  “No, no,” Jenkins raised his empty hand and lowered the flashlight. “We’re just having a conversation here. No big deal.”

  “If it’s no big deal, then I’d like to go, if you guys don’t mind. Like I said, my girlfriend,” he pointed at his watch.

  Jenkins clicked off his light. He worked his tongue over his teeth. Then he cleared his throat and spat. “All right. I guess that’ll be it,” he waved Bobby away. “Just do me a favor and get this thing off the road until there’s an accident or something. You don’t need to be driving around in this shit. I’d hate to have to call a tow truck to pull a tow truck out of the ditch.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Bobby beamed. “I can go through anything in this old beast. She’s a tank. There’s no stopping her.”

  “Pretty powerful, huh?” April smiled.

  Bobby blinked and tilted his head. Then he seemed to accept April’s sudden pleasantness and answered. “Oh, yeah. This thing’s a beast, I tell ya’.”

  “Powerful enough to, say, pull a wrecked car up the side of a hill?”

  “Of course—HEY!” he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t put words in my mouth, lady. I’m gettin’ the hell outta here. You guys’re all nuts!”

  He hurried to his truck, slipping as he rounded the hood to get to the driver’s door.

  April glared at Jenkins. “Aren’t you going to do anything? He’s the best witness to the crime we have, and if there’s any evidence, it might be on that truck.”

  “I’m still not convinced there was a crime,” Jenkins watched Bobby climb into the cab.

  April noticed Jenkins’ suspicious look. “But you have a hunch, don’t you? All good cops have hunches. I can tell you’re one of the good ones.”

  Jenkins presented half a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  The tow truck pulled away. Jenkins shook his head at April, then reached into his pocket and produced a notepad. As the truck drove out of sight, he scribbled the license plate number.

  “We’ll see what turns up,” he put the pad in his pocket again. “In the meantime, go home and get out of this cold. I don’t know a wit about corporate murder plots or weird black stains in the snow, but I do know about a little thing called pneumonia. And you look like you’re gonna get it if you don’t get inside, and soon.”

  April had forgotten about the freezing temperature until that moment. She was shivering again, chattering her teeth. The cold seeped into her, a chill settling in the core of her bones.

  Jeff threw his arms around her. “April? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  She summoned the strength, tightened her stomach, and forced a response. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine,” he touched her cheek. His hand felt hot. “You’re freezing. Look at you, you’re trembling. Let’s get back to the truck.”

  “That’s right, go home. Get out of this damned cold. I know I’m going to,” Jenkins shined his light down the hill. April, though nearly an ice cube, could see it in his eyes. He had doubts. He turned and started to walk away, then stopped, illuminating the hill one more time. He studied something, then shook his head. As he navigated through the deep snow to his Blazer, he glanced at April. He knew. She was certain of it.

  SIXTEEN

  LOGAN LED APRIL into the foyer, through the arched cased opening to a sitting area below the staircase. She looked shaky, head down, eyes on her feet, but stopped and seemed to become aware of her surroundings when she got to the living room. Jeff busied himself with stoking the fire, although it really didn’t need another log quite yet. He’d filled the stove before they left.

  “You want to come in and sit down next to the fire?” he poked at a glowing chunk of maple. “I’ll get you something hot to drink. You like cocoa? Or how about some coffee? I think we even have some tea.”

  Sniffling, she glanced at him, searched the room, and said, “You know? I think I’d like to just take a
nice, hot bath. Is that all right with you?”

  “A bath?’ he paused. “Uh…sure.”

  A bath! He popped up, dropping the fire poker on his foot. He didn’t feel it. He had one thing on his mind, and that piece of iron wasn’t it. She wanted to take a bath, and he hadn’t cleaned his tub in about two years.

  “Just let me…” he ran past her and up the stairs, using the handrail to vault three steps at a time. “Just give me a second!”

  With the help of some pretty strong cleanser, he managed to scrub away the yellow ring on the porcelain and the brown stains behind the shower curtain. He couldn’t do anything about the musty curtain itself, so he pulled it out of the tub and let it dangle over the edge.

  After restoring an ivory luster to the old clawfoot, he ran hot water until it started to steam, then closed the drain. He twisted the cold a little and allowed the tub to fill.

  Two quick knocks on the door. It creaked open.

  “Can I come in?” April peeked in and smiled. “Are you done yet, because I really want to get into the…Oh, that’s beautiful,” she stared at the bathtub.

  He glanced at it. “Yeah. It’s original to the house. My grandmother loved this thing. Soaked in it every Saturday for eighty-one years. She didn’t even need one of those safety rails, either. Could get in and out better than me.”

  “She sounds like an amazing woman,” she stepped in the room, no doubt disgusted by the smell. Why didn’t he clean that toilet?

  “She was,” he nodded. “Hey, do you want bubbles?”

  “Of course.”

  He searched beneath the sink. Years of clutter under there, but he knew he’d find it, a sad remnant of Emma’s existence, one of many scattered throughout the house. This was a wicker basket, filled with soaps and lotions, bath oils and salts. The kind of basket sitting in every pharmacy and gift shop in every mall in America. Emma loved that stuff. He supposed every woman did. Come to think of it, so would he. He just never got around to treating himself.

  “Here,” he presented the basket to her. “Take your pick. It’s all yours.”