Snow Happens (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Wendy Meadows

  “MI-6?” Conrad exclaimed. She heard the squeak of his office chair as he sat bolt upright in alarm.

  “Seems to be,” Sarah said. “I saw him leave in a gray SUV with temporary tags. He ordered me to stand down from this case or else he would take drastic action, beginning with you.”

  “MI-6... Are you sure, Sarah?” he asked.

  “Amanda is sure.”

  “And of course my crazy friend threatens the deadly bloke,” Amanda yelled toward the phone.

  “Go get the kitten some milk, please,” Sarah begged Amanda.

  “‘Go get the kitten some milk’,” Amanda nearly laughed to herself. “We’re dead and she wants me to fetch warm milk.” Amanda looked down at the kitten in her arms. “Well, why not? No sense in you being hungry. Come on, little guy.”

  Conrad, his voice still full of concern, said, “Sarah, are you absolutely sure your visitor was MI6?”

  “When Amanda said Mr. Bradley was British intelligence, the man didn’t actually confirm her words, but he sure didn’t deny the claim, either.” Sarah attempted to gather her thoughts. “Conrad, despite his words, I don’t think Mr. Bradley has any intention of harming us. If this man is who Amanda says he is, then he could have easily killed us at the lake.”

  “How do you know he was at the lake?” Conrad asked, confused.

  “That piece of gray thread Andrew found,” Sarah explained. “This man was wearing a gray suit. It’s likely he was wearing a gray coat, as well.”

  “That’s a stretch.”

  “Then how else do you explain this man showing up at my coffee shop if he didn’t see us at the lake,” Sarah nearly yelled into the phone. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay,” Conrad assured her. “And you’re right.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. “Mr. Bradley did confirm my theory that more than one person was involved in the killing of Charlie Raymond.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes.” Sarah pictured the landscape of Diamond Lake in her mind. She concentrated on the snowy woods surrounding the lake. “Conrad,” she said, “Mr. Bradley isn’t alone here. We know he has a driver. He has too many angles to cover on this job to go after the killers alone. If he is British intelligence—”

  “The old bloke is MI-6, Los Angeles!” Amanda yelled from the kitchen.

  Sarah sighed. “If Mr. Bradley is MI-6, then we’re part of something that’s very dangerous,” she said. “Conrad, you and I both know British intelligence wouldn’t make an appearance on American soil unless a serious threat was at hand.”

  “I’m very familiar with MI-6,” Conrad informed Sarah. “When I worked in New York I had a friend who used to work for British intelligence, okay? Let me just tell you that he vanished into thin air. When I tried to open a case on his disappearance, the mayor of New York personally threatened my job and future if I didn’t throw the case into the cold files.”

  “So what do we do, Conrad? Do we throw Mr. Raymond’s murder into the cold files and look the other way?”

  “I made contact with a Mr. Pence at Yellowstone. He was on his way to a meeting and told me that he would give me a call back within the next hour. Let me see what this guy has to say.”

  “Who is this Mr. Pence?” Sarah asked.

  “Charlie Raymond’s former boss,” Conrad answered. “Hey, you and Amanda had better get back to my office, okay? From now on we stay by each other’s side day and night.”

  “I don’t like being scared and I don’t like being threatened,” Sarah said, clearing her throat. “I’ve tangled with some of the worst people mankind has to offer, Conrad. But I’m not going to back down and run scared from a man who hides behind his government agency to bully people.”

  Conrad was quiet for a moment on his end of the phone before he spoke again. “Sarah, the CIA works closely with the MI-6. If we make one wrong move, it’s over for us. Our best shot is to gather up as much information as we can, because whatever information we gather could save our lives.”

  “You mean to use our information as a bulletproof vest,” Sarah inferred.

  “Yes,” Conrad said. “Listen, you and Amanda get back to my office on the double.”

  “We’re on our way,” Sarah promised. She hung up the phone and walked out of her office into the kitchen. “Conrad wants us back at his office ASAP.”

  “Let the little kitten eat first,” Amanda said, pouring warm milk into a green bowl she had placed on the floor. The kitten ran to the bowl and began hungrily licking up the milk. “Los Angeles... I have Jack to think about. That MI-6 bloke mentioned my husband’s name. I know you have your duty, but... I have mine too. I think I’m going to go home and let you run solo this time, okay” she said in a careful voice. “You know I love you, but... I can’t let anything happen to my Jack.”

  Sarah stared into Amanda’s worried eyes. She saw tears appear. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, pulling Amanda into her arms. “I understand. I’ll have Andrew drive you home.”

  Amanda wiped at her tears. “I have my truck parked outside, remember? Listen, Los Angeles, I can’t lose my husband over a dead man that I don’t even know. Whatever is happening is none of my concern. I was crazy to get involved to begin with.”

  “You saved my life because you had the courage to care and become involved,” Sarah pointed out.

  “My courage... is gone,” Amanda said, tears welling up again. Leaning up, she looked deep into Sarah’s eyes. “Come home with me. We’ll make tea and watch a silly romantic comedy and cry our eyes out. Afterward, we’ll do each other’s nails and fuss about getting old.”

  Sarah reached out her right hand and wiped Amanda’s tears away. “I’m a cop. Once a cop, always a cop. A man was murdered on American soil and I have a job to do. Conrad has a job to do. The police in this town have a job to do.”

  “I was afraid you would say that,” Amanda said, sniffling. “I’d better... go get my coat.”

  Sarah’s heart broke as she watched Amanda leave the kitchen. “Goodbye, partner,” she said, fighting back her own tears. Then she followed her friend to the door.

  Outside, Amanda slowly walked to her truck, which she had parked in front of the coffee shop. The snow was falling heavier and the winds were picking up. “Another storm is coming,” she told Sarah.

  “You’d better take this little guy, then,” Sarah said and handed Amanda the kitten. “I’ll call you tonight, okay? Please, keep your doors locked and don’t open up for anyone.”

  “Trust me,” Amanda promised as she pulled open the driver’s side door, “I won’t. After what we’ve been through, the only person I’m opening my front door for is Jack.”

  Sarah watched Amanda place the kitten gently inside the cab of the truck. “I... I’ll miss you.”

  “This isn’t goodbye, silly,” Amanda said, forcing a smile to her lips. “We’re still best friends. I’ll still come over to your cabin for some good chats and you’ll still come over to my flat for some tea. We’ll still go shopping together and grow old together, fussing about our wrinkles.”

  “I know,” Sarah said and hugged Amanda. “It just feels that we’re somehow... being separated.”

  “We’re not,” Amanda promised, hugging Sarah back. “Now listen to me,” she said. “I’m going to drive home, make some coffee, bake some cookies, and call my bloody husband and fuss at him until his ears fall off. Afterward I’ll make myself a hot bath, soak until I turn into a prune, and then cuddle up with a silly romantic comedy and cry my eyes out.”

  “Sounds fun,” Sarah smiled. She helped Amanda up into the cab of her truck. “I’ll call you,” she promised as a strong gust of wind howled down the street in an eerie, lonely voice.

  “The wind can sound so creepy at times,” Amanda said, looking up the deserted street.

  “I know,” Sarah agreed. She closed the car door for her friend. Backing up onto the sidewalk, she waved at Amanda. Amanda waved back, brought her truck to life, let it warm up
a bit, backed up into the street, and drove away.

  “Be safe,” Amanda pleaded, glancing at her friend’s retreating figure in the rearview mirror. She spotted Conrad walking down the street toward the coffee shop and waved at him as she drove past, too.

  Confused, Conrad waved back, then noticed Sarah and hurried up to her. “Where is she going?” he asked.

  “Home,” Sarah said sadly. “Mr. Bradley threatened her husband. I don’t believe he’d follow through, but Amanda was spooked by it. It’s different for her, Conrad. I can’t blame her.”

  Conrad shoved his bare hands down into the pockets of his black coat. He watched Amanda’s truck as it disappeared in the distance. “Weather report said another storm is pushing in from the west. So much for the clear skies that were predicted.”

  “The weather can be very unpredictable.” Sarah sighed as Amanda’s truck vanished from sight. “So, what are you doing here?”

  “Personal escort,” Conrad explained. “I hurried down here as fast as I could after we hung up. I didn’t want you ladies walking back to the police station alone.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” Sarah said, grateful for Conrad’s unexpected presence and touched by his thoughtfulness. “Well, there’s no sense in standing on the sidewalk freezing, is there?”

  “I guess not,” Conrad said. He looked deep into Sarah’s beautiful eyes. “You’re scared.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted. “Conrad, I know how dangerous British intelligence is. I know how dangerous the CIA is. I know how dangerous every intelligence agency in every country is. I’m not blind. But a man was killed on American soil, and we have a job to do.”

  “At a very dangerous risk,” Conrad pointed out.

  “Are you backing down?” she asked, shocked.

  “No way.” Conrad shook his head. “I know the risks and I accept them,” he explained. Casting his eyes around, he studied the sleepy street through the heavily falling snow. The sound of the howling wind sent a strong, melancholy feeling into his heart. “But today I see sadness walking around this town.”

  Sarah followed his gaze and shivered a little in the gathering cold. “Even on the busy streets of Los Angeles, you can hear the sadness,” she told Conrad in a tired voice. “Doesn’t matter how crowded the sidewalks are, there is always a pair of sad, desperate eyes somewhere, hungering to be loved... needed...”

  Conrad focused his eyes on Sarah’s cold face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said, and forced a weak smile to her shivering lips. “Let me make that pot of coffee I promised you and then let’s get to the station, okay? Before we freeze.”

  “Okay.” Conrad made another quick visual check of the street. Somewhere, hidden within the small, snowy town, lurked a darkness that held no conscience—a darkness whose only purpose was to kill and destroy.

  Chapter Four

  “I’ll be there,” Conrad said and ended his call with Mr. Pence. “Well,” he said, leaning back in his office chair with a dry grin, “are you up for a road trip?”

  “In this weather?” Sarah shook her head no. “I would prefer to stay in town.”

  Conrad folded his hands behind his head. “Mr. Pence won’t talk to me over the phone. He insists that I travel to Yellowstone.”

  Sarah walked to the office window and took a cautious view of the front street. The snow was falling from the sky in steady, powerful drifts. “Well, we would have to drive. There’s no way anyone will fly us down to Anchorage to catch a flight, that’s for sure. Not in this weather.”

  “Hungry?” Conrad asked.

  “Not really,” Sarah answered absently. Her eyes were focused on the street lamp in front of the police station. It was casting a yellowish light down onto the snow that reminded Sarah of the street lights in her neighborhood back in Los Angeles. Memories of sitting in the kitchen of her old house, sipping coffee and reading a good novel while waiting for her husband to return home, flooded her mind. “Times were good then,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Huh?” Sarah turned away from the window.

  “What did you say?” Conrad asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Sarah said, momentarily flustered. She walked to the chair in front of Conrad’s desk and sat down. “I know you haven’t been away from New York very long, but do you miss it? The sounds, the lights, the buildings, the people, the restaurants?”

  Conrad considered Sarah’s question for a moment. “I don’t miss the crime, the traffic, the pollution, the dirty streets, the gangs, the violence, the drugs, the high cost of living... those things I don’t miss.”

  “I miss seeing the palm trees swaying in the wind... the smell of the Pacific... the sights of the canyons... a little diner I used to eat at all the time that overlooked a little beach that hardly anyone ever visited. I miss seeing the city lit up at night... a city that—somehow—always captivated me.”

  Conrad nodded his head. “New York was like that for me. I never tired of walking down Broadway or eating at this little Italian restaurant... a real hole-in-the-wall place that had the best veal parmesan you ever tasted.” Conrad smiled. “There was a bookstore called Page After Page that Old Lady Reed used to operate. The bookstore was nothing grand, really, but, I don’t know... there was something compelling about the inside of the store that always felt like... home, in a way.”

  “What happened to the bookstore?” Sarah asked.

  “Some loser doped up on drugs held the store up and shot Old Lady Reed in the shoulder. After that, she closed down and moved to Florida with her husband. Now the bookstore is a pawn shop,” Conrad said, his voice a mix of anger and sadness. “That’s life, I guess.”

  Sarah grew silent and listened to the winds howl outside. “I admit, I do miss Los Angeles. I guess I would still be living in my old house if my husband and I were still married. After the divorce... well, I felt that it was time for a change in my life. My writing career is stable and my books sales are in the green right now.”

  Conrad examined Sarah’s face. “You’re homesick,” he said.

  Sarah nodded. “I guess I am homesick,” she admitted. “But I could never go back and live in Los Angeles. I know this might sound crazy, but this little town is growing on me. I like my little cabin. I like my coffee shop. I like the snow. I like... being so far away from everything I once knew. I feel that I can... see clearly, somehow. But yes, I am homesick for my old memories.”

  “I understand.” Conrad leaned forward. “Listen, you can back out of this case at any time and take a trip to Los Angeles. Take Amanda with you. I know she would enjoy the trip.”

  “No,” Sarah said firmly. “We’re on a case together. Now, what little tidbits did this Mr. Pence give you?”

  Conrad shook his head at Sarah. “Stubborn,” he said with a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Pence didn’t say much, but he did manage to convey that Charlie Raymond requested a transfer right after a group of scientists left Yellowstone.”

  “Scientists? What type of scientists?”

  “Pence didn’t say,” Conrad replied. “The man seemed extremely worried that he had let that bit of information slip. So my guess is that these scientists might be who this Bradley man is searching for.”

  “Very possible,” Sarah said hopefully. “Speaking of Charlie Raymond, how are our three park rangers managing in the holding cell?”

  “Last time I checked they were okay. But we have to remember that any one of those three park rangers could be involved in his murder.”

  “Not Dave,” Sarah protested. “Conrad, Dave—”

  Conrad held up his right hand. “I don’t think Dave is involved either,” he reassured her. “But we have to treat him as a suspect in front of the other two.”

  Sarah nodded. “Okay,” she said, “so what about this trip to Yellowstone? It could be a setup.”

  “I don’t think so. Mr. Pence sounded very nervous, so I did some checking on him.” Conrad cleared hi
s throat. “He is married and has three sons and four grandchildren. He and his wife like to take trips to Africa. He’s been an employee of the National Park Service at Yellowstone Park for over thirty years. The only legal trouble the man has ever gotten into was when he was nineteen and got arrested for protesting a company that made some toxic house paint. The man is a real ‘Keep the Earth Clean’ type guy.”

  Sarah considered this. “So his record seems clean,” she said. She pondered for a moment, then switched tracks as something occurred to her. “You know, Yellowstone is home to the largest super volcano in the world,” she said worriedly. “What did Charlie Raymond find out that got him killed? Could it have something to do with that?”

  “Are you suggesting that the volcano beneath Yellowstone could erupt?” Conrad asked hesitantly. “Sarah, that’s really stretching it.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything of the sort,” Sarah replied. “But I am saying Charlie Raymond was murdered shortly after he transferred to Alaska and shortly after a group of scientists left Yellowstone. And the super volcano is the biggest natural threat waiting to happen. Maybe that’s the connection.”

  Conrad rubbed his rough chin. Sarah’s theory held merit. It was obvious that Charlie Raymond was murdered for a certain reason—and with MI-6 in town searching for the people who had murdered the man, Conrad saw red flags popping up everywhere. “We have to go down to Yellowstone and talk with Mr. Pence, Sarah. We can’t move forward until we do.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Raymond’s autopsy report?” Sarah suggested. “I’m sure the report will give us a lead or two.”

  “The coroner can call me with the results. I have to go to Yellowstone. I would like it if you accompanied me.”

  Sarah leaned forward and picked up a bottle of water from the desk. “If we leave town, Mr. Bradley might suspect something... then again, if we leave town, he might just think we’re standing down.”

  “It’s a flip of the coin,” Conrad pointed out.

  Sarah took a drink of water. It was delicious in her mouth and cold going down her throat. “Okay, Detective Spencer,” she said. “I’ll go to Yellowstone with you. Speaking with Mr. Pence is very important to our case.”