A Cold Tomorrow

by Mae Clair

  “Forget it.” Katie’s mom waved a hand in the air as if to fluff aside the concern. “I guess I’m on edge. Rex took off last night, and I’ve been worried sick ever since.”

  Katie narrowed her eyes. “Martin’s dog?”

  Her mom nodded. “I had him overnight because Martin was having his place fumigated. I thought Sam would like having Rex there, but the darn dog took off when the two of them were outside.”

  A lump formed in Katie’s throat. “Is Sam okay?”

  “He’s fine, Katie. Just upset Rex hasn’t come back.”

  “Have you told Martin?”

  “I called him last night. He drove around looking for him, but no luck. I feel horrible.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Wanda said. “Rex probably heard or saw something. You know how dogs are. He’ll turn up, you’ll see.”

  Doreen Sue nodded, but her eyes glimmered with tears. “Martin’s the first decent guy I’ve had in my life. I don’t want him to ditch me ’cause I lost his dog.”

  “Aw, come on now, honey. He’s not like that.” Wanda moved to Doreen Sue’s side. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Wanda tugged her close and offered a peppy smile. “Martin’s crazy about you. He was following you around like a puppy when you were seeing Amos. You were just too wrapped up in that loser to notice.”

  Katie’s mom sniffled and offered a watery smile. “I hope you’re right. I’m falling hard for the guy.”

  Interesting. Katie would have liked to know more about her mother’s attachment to Martin, but her mind was preoccupied with Sam. “Mom—”

  As if reading her mind, Doreen Sue spoke quickly. “Katie, I told you Sam is fine.” She nodded to Wanda, indicating she was okay, and her friend moved away. “He spent last night and this morning drawing.”

  “Drawing?” The word settled uncomfortably in her stomach. It dredged awake a memory from childhood—sitting cross-legged on her bed, scribbling geometric shapes and patterns in a school notebook while her mom and a man whose name she couldn’t remember shouted drunken insults at each other in the kitchen.

  “You liked to draw,” her mom reminded her. She twined her hands together, jumpy all over again.

  Katie cleared her throat. “Just for a while.” The intensity of sitting hunched over that notebook, fervently sketching shapes and patterns that made no sense, was like a sliver of icy air creeping down her spine. She’d conveniently forgotten that time, locking it in a shadowed corner of her memory. It bothered her for reasons she couldn’t explain.

  It seemed to bother her mom too.

  Shaking off her unease, Katie refocused on why she’d come. “Um…Mom. Are you sure you’re okay watching Sam again tonight? If Martin needs you to help him look for Rex, I can change my plans.”

  “Don’t even think of it.” Dismissing the notion, her mom returned to tidying items around the shop. “Sam and I will be fine. And you’ve been planning this sleepover for weeks.”

  “Just a few.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. Eve and Sarah had been badgering her for over a month to do something silly and fun. It was odd to suddenly find herself part of a trio when she’d spent most of her childhood alone.

  “Well, I think it’s a great idea,” her mom said. “It’s about time you started doing things with friends. You can swing by when you get off work and have dinner with me and Sam before you join the girls. I’m making fried chicken and mashed potatoes, and won’t take no for an answer.”

  Katie nodded. She’d half hoped her mom would renege on watching Sam. As stupid as it sounded, she’d never been to a sleepover and didn’t know what to expect. How pathetic that she was only now going to experience one at twenty-seven.

  “Can I bring anything for dinner?”

  “It’s all taken care of.” Her mom paused in the process of running a feather duster over a collection of shampoo bottles. The frown lines crept back around her mouth. “But you might want to pick up a sketchbook for Sam.”

  Katie’s mouth was dry. “What kind of stuff is he drawing?”

  Her mom looked away. “Odd things. Shapes…trees.” She bit her lip. “But they’re all filled with tiny triangles and boxes.”

  Noise.

  “Like a pattern,” Katie whispered.

  “Exactly.” Her mom set the feather duster down and turned to face her. “He said it’s because of the cloud.”

  Chapter 2

  Katie sorted through the afternoon mail, setting aside several envelopes for Eve to review later. She loved working for her friend as manager of the Parrish Hotel, but found it hard to concentrate on business.

  The lobby was empty; all the departing guests checked out for the day, with those remaining scouring the town. There hadn’t been a reported sighting of the Mothman for months, but the mere idea of the creature’s existence kept visitors flocking to the hotel.

  From her position behind the check-in counter, she cast a glance out the front windows. A nest of leaves had become snarled on the covered porch, huddled in a corner where they were shaded from the sun. Soon it would be too cold to linger outdoors, the change in weather signaling the need to store the high-backed rockers loved by guests for the season. The Halloween decorations—fat orange pumpkins, Indian corn, and dried cornstalks—could remain into mid-November.

  She rubbed her eyes.

  Frivolous thoughts, conjured to keep her mind off Jerome and her son’s sudden obsession with drawing. Maybe she couldn’t put her mind at ease about Sam, but at least she could get an update on Jerome.

  Picking up the handset for the phone, she punched out the number for Ryan Flynn with her free hand. She and Ryan had grown increasingly friendly ever since Eve and Ryan’s older brother, Caden, started dating. If there was information to be had, Ryan would know.

  The phone cycled through four rings before he answered.

  “Sergeant Ryan Flynn.” His voice had a calming effect on her nerves, much as his presence often did.

  “Hi, Ryan. It’s Katie.”

  “Katie?” His tone brightened noticeably, losing some of its professional edge. “Nice to hear from you. I hope everything’s okay.”

  “Fine.” She imagined a trace of concern crinkling his blue eyes. “I was hoping you could check on something for me.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “It’s about Jerome Kelly.” Briefly, she relayed her experience of the previous night. “I feel bad leaving him the way I did, even though I’m sure Deputy Brown is more than capable. I was hoping you’d know something…that Jerome made it home okay or that Deputy Brown took him to the hospital. I hate not knowing what became of him.”

  “Deputy Brown?” An odd inflection colored Ryan’s words.

  “Yes.”

  “Of the Mason County Sheriff’s Department?”

  “Yes.” Impatiently, Katie drummed her fingers on the counter. “Is there some kind of policy that won’t allow you to tell me?”

  Ryan exhaled into the phone. “Katie, I know every deputy and officer in this department and there is no one named Brown.”

  “But that’s not possible. He introduced himself and told me his name.”

  “Maybe you heard him wrong.”

  “No.” Pressing her fingertips to her forehead, she rubbed the spot just above her eyebrow. She’d been rattled because of Jerome, but she’d heard the deputy clearly.

  “All right.” Ryan’s voice was softer as if he sensed her agitation. “What did he look like?”

  “He…” Katie closed her eyes and concentrated, too embarrassed to admit she couldn’t remember. Several times since the incident she’d tried to recall his face and each time came up empty. “It was dark,” she said at last. “I didn’t get a good look at him, but I saw his car with the sheriff’s department seal on the side, and he told me his name.”

  Silence reigned on the other end.

  “You don’t believe me,” she accused.

  “
I didn’t say that. Maybe he’s a new hire. I’ll ask around.” A peace offering. An attempt to pacify her.

  The effort was pathetically transparent. “I think I’ll call the hospital.” More annoyed at herself than him, she grew increasingly irritated she couldn’t recall a single feature of Brown’s face.

  “I’ll call the hospital,” Ryan offered. More olive branches.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I don’t, either.” He was back to sounding helpful, the Ryan she liked best. During their short time as friends, she’d known him to be stubbornly opinionated, but also courteous and charming.

  “You have me curious about Brown,” Ryan continued. “And Jerome. I’ll do some checking and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Ryan. I’ll be here most of the afternoon; then I’m heading to my mom’s place for dinner. Tonight, I’ll be with Eve and Sarah.”

  “The sleepover.” A grin crept into his voice.

  “You know about it?”

  “Caden told me.”

  A sergeant with the Mason County Sheriff’s Department, Caden was scheduled to work the late shift, according to Eve. “Does he tell you everything?”

  Ryan snorted. “Hardly. Anyway, I hope you girls enjoy yourselves. Do you want me to call you at Eve’s if I turn up news on Jerome?”

  “Sure.” She’d sleep better if she knew Jerome hadn’t been sidelined by anything serious. “You’re a good friend, Ryan. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  After she’d hung up, it occurred to her that he’d asked for a date in a roundabout way. Then again, maybe he just wanted to pick her brain about Deputy Brown and find out how a faceless, unknown officer could end up driving a Mason County patrol car.

  * * * *

  After work, Katie drove to her mom’s home, wanting to spend an hour or two with Sam before Eve’s sleepover. The sound of a radio greeted her inside the door, and she followed the music to the kitchen where she found her mom busy cubing potatoes on a cutting board.

  “Hi.” Her mother flashed a smile. “Sam’s in the living room if you want to say hello. Dinner in forty-five. I’ve already got gravy simmering on the stove.”

  “Mmm.” Katie nodded, inhaling the aroma of hot chicken stock, butter, and seasonings. Despite the non-traditional manner in which she’d raised her daughters, Katie’s mom had always ensured both girls had a hot cooked meal. It might have been tossed on the table as she dashed out to grab a drink with some loser in a beat-up Ford, but she’d made sure her girls had something more substantial than fast food or snacks.

  “Is there anything you want me to do?” Katie dropped a green carry tote onto the floor. The bag contained a few items she’d need for the sleepover, but also a gift for Sam.

  “I’m fine, hon.” Another quick smile. With her bleached blond hair and blue eyes, Doreen Sue looked like an older Kim Carnes. People sometimes said as much, a comparison that never failed to earn a flirty flutter of her eyelashes, especially if the compliment came from a man. Wearing the same clingy black leggings and oversized silk shirt she’d worn to her salon, she hardly looked dressed to be mashing up potatoes or frying chicken. At least she’d traded the stiletto heels for a pair of comfortable blue jelly flats.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

  “I have everything under control. Go see your son. He’s anxious to show you what he’s been drawing.”

  Nodding, Katie pulled a paper bag from the tote. “Yell if you need me.”

  She found Sam in the living room, seated on the sofa, hunched over a loose-leaf notebook. He grinned when he saw her.

  “Hi, Mom.” Thrusting his pad aside, he hopped off the couch and ran to give her a hug.

  “Hey, my handsome man.” Katie knelt, wrapping him in her arms and inhaling a mixture of autumn grass, browning leaves, and denim. “You were outside.”

  “I was looking for Rex.” Sam had her green eyes paired with his father’s floppy brown hair. Thankfully, hair color was all he’d inherited from Lyle Mason.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll turn up.” She smoothed a scattering of bangs from his forehead. “Sometimes dogs just like to roam.”

  “That’s what Martin said.”

  “Then you should listen to him.” Martin was the first good guy her mom had dated. It didn’t surprise her he’d go out of his way to soothe Sam’s fears. “Hey, look. I brought you something.” Standing, she handed him the bag.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  Eagerly, he tore into the package. “Wow, thanks, Mom!” His mouth split with an exuberant grin as he withdrew two sketchbooks and a pack of graphite pencils.

  “Grammie said you started drawing.”

  “Yep. Look at this.” Grasping her hand, Sam tugged her toward the couch, then handed her his notebook. “I did most of these last night.”

  Katie bit her lip. “There’s so many.” Too many, as if her son had pored over the notebook for hours. The pages were filled with random drawings, some in pencil, most in ink. The detail was astounding. Images of trees, houses, fields, even the sky, all rendered in a precision she wouldn’t expect an eight-year-old could manage. Her heart beat faster as she flipped through the pages. Sam had crammed the inside of the trees and houses with all manner of geometrical shapes. Triangles, squares, lines, and diamonds. The patterns repeated over and over in mirrored perfection.

  Noise.

  How did she know that term?

  “Do you like them?” His face held eager expectation, his eyes bright. The corners looked a little puffy, the whites pinkish.

  “When did you find the time to do all of these?”

  Dancing from foot to foot, he shrugged. “Last night. Today.”

  “Is this all you’ve been doing? Don’t you want to go outside and play?”

  “I was outside, remember? I helped Martin look for Rex.”

  His eyes were definitely puffy. Maybe he hadn’t slept well. Maybe he’d been up all night scribbling tiny patterns in houses and trees.

  “Don’t you like them, Mom?” His voice carried a note of worry.

  “Of course I do.” She smoothed a hand over his hair. “I’m just concerned about you. You look a little tired. Your eyes—”

  “They itch, that’s all.” As if to prove the point, Sam dug a knuckle into the corner of his eye before pointing back to the tablet. “That one’s my favorite.” He tapped the open page.

  Katie’s gaze fell to the picture. Her mother’s backyard. She recognized the willow tree near the rear porch. The flowerbed, tucked beneath the kitchen window, bare now but for a scattering of dried leaves trapped by a black plastic border. Rex was in the picture, muzzle pointed skyward, mouth open as if caught in mid-bark. A fat cloud hovered over the tree, casting a wide beam to the ground. In the center of the diaphanous cloud, small pinpricks of light pulsed like dancing fireflies. Unlike Sam’s other drawings, this one did not contain any geometrical shapes.

  Katie tapped a fingernail against the cloud. “What’s this?”

  Sam angled for a better look. “The cloud.”

  Goose bumps prickled her arms. Not a cloud, but the cloud. She tightened her fingers on the tablet.

  “It was there right before Rex disappeared,” Sam continued, seemingly unaware of her distress. “It was green.”

  He scrubbed his eye, this time using the back of his hand. “Rex started barking at it and then took off.”

  Katie wet her lips. “Did Grammie see the cloud?”

  Sam shook his head. “It kind of vanished.”

  “Maybe it was just an ordinary cloud with a plane or something behind it.” Katie wasn’t certain if she made the observation to pacify Sam or herself. An icy finger skipped down her spine. An attempt to resurrect something from the past. Something she couldn’t remember.

  “Maybe.�
�� He shrugged, seemingly disinterested in the subject. Returning to the couch, he plopped down and opened one of the new sketchbooks. Immediately, he began to draw a series of shapes and symbols.

  Katie sat beside him. “Are you going to be okay here again tonight?”

  “Sure.” Sam tucked his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he worked. It was hard to decipher what he drew this time, the lines crisscrossing one another, settling into a repetitious pattern.

  She wished he’d go outside and play. Find a ball or run around the yard. Dig for worms. Anything. “It’s going to be dark soon. Why don’t you go outside and play a bit before dinner? You can draw later.”

  “Okay.” He set the sketchbook aside.

  She couldn’t tell if he made the concession for her or because he really wanted to be outdoors. Likely, the former. “You know where I’ll be tonight, right?”

  “Sure. With Eve and Sarah, at Eve’s place.”

  “Grammie has the phone number if you need to reach me.”

  Sam sighed. “I know, Mom. But come on—I’m eight now. You don’t have to worry about me all the time.”

  She fought the urge to grin. He wouldn’t appreciate the tender response, thinking she didn’t consider him grown up. Which, of course, she didn’t. But it was hard to tell an eight-year-old he still had a lot of growing to do.

  “I know. Third grade.” Cupping his chin, she tilted his head up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It wouldn’t be too long before he put a stop to such overt displays of affection. “But call if you need anything, otherwise I won’t feel like a mom.” Now she did smile, coaxing a grin from him in return. “And I want you to give your eyes a rest, so don’t spend the whole night drawing. Deal?”

  “Okay.” He made the word sound like he was getting the short end of the stick, but there was affection in his tone. “I’ll get my coat and go outside. Maybe Rex will come back if he sees me.”

  “Good idea.” It would be so much better to have him focused on Rex than sketching strange clouds. As she watched him bound from the room, she assured herself there was nothing to worry about.