Dashing Through the Snow

by Mary Higgins Clark

  But there was still no answer at Rufus Blackstone’s home. “Why doesn’t he have an answering machine?” Alvirah grumbled. “In this day and age…Let me try Mrs. O’Keefe. I just want to see what she remembers about the companion. She’s probably mad at me because I haven’t talked to her in so long.”

  “No one could stay mad at you, Alvirah,” Jack said amiably as he pulled into a parking space.

  Alvirah began to dial. “I never forget a phone number,” she bragged. “Particularly Bridget O’Keefe’s. She was always calling me and leaving messages asking if I had seen her glasses or her keys or her address book…. Hello, Bridget? This is Alvirah Meehan…” She laughed. “No, I’m not too big for my britches. I do want to see you for lunch one of these days…But the strangest thing happened today. I’m in a little town in New Hampshire, and I spotted Kitty’s flower ring in a jewelry shop window. I’m absolutely sure it was hers.”

  On the other end of the phone, Alvirah’s former employer, who had been watching her afternoon soap operas, gasped. “That ring has been on my mind lately. How did the jeweler get it?”

  “A local man found it. I’m trying to get in touch with him. I wanted to see what you remembered about Kitty’s companion. I only saw her once from a distance.”

  Mrs. O’Keefe lowered the volume on the television. “I still feel so terrible about Kitty. That companion, who we later found out used a fake name, was syrupy sweet in the beginning, then she started to boss Kitty around.”

  “I remember you were worried about that. But what did she look like?”

  “She had one of those round faces that always had a phony smile plastered on it. Brown hair. Medium sized, but kind of a big frame. She pretended to act concerned about Kitty and was always saying she wanted to fatten Kitty up. It bugged Kitty, who said the companion’s head was always in and out of the oven, baking cakes and cookies, most of which she ate herself. To think she got away with robbing poor Kitty blind, then pushing her down the stairs. We both know she did that. Alvirah, if you find her, I’d love to get the chance to spit in her face.”

  “Bridget, I would love to find her. Kitty was such a sweet lady. I’ll call you when I get back to New York. I have the ring. As long as Kitty’s nephew says it’s okay, it’s yours. I heard Kitty say so many times that she wanted you to have it.”

  “Oh, Alvirah, I can’t believe how good you are. The ring won’t bring Kitty back, but it will make me feel close to her again.”

  Alvirah said her good-byes and closed her cell phone. “That wasn’t much help,” she admitted. “The murdering companion likes to bake. Which reminds me, I’m hungry.” She reached in her purse for a chocolate caramel. “Jack would you like one?”

  “Sure,” he said. As he unwrapped the red and green foil he asked, “Alvirah, how’s your head feeling?”

  Alvirah opened the car door. “I’ll think about it when we get Flower back.”

  Jack put his hand under her arm as they walked carefully through the parking lot. Inside the church, they went down the steps to the basement, which was cheerfully decorated and abuzz with smiling volunteers. They could hear the choir rehearsing nearby. “Nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying…”

  Alvirah turned to Jack. “Five gooolden rings,” she sang off-key.

  “Jack!”

  They both turned. Regan was hurrying toward them. “Duncan just got a phone call from the Winthrops’ elderly aunt. They know Duncan has the lottery ticket. She said he’d better not cash it because it belongs to her, and she wants it back or she’ll be very hurt.”

  “Hurt?” Jack repeated.

  “That’s what she said. Duncan is sure it’s a threat and that those guys have Flower, but the aunt hung up before he could question her.”

  “How is he supposed to get the ticket to her?” Alvirah asked.

  “She said she’d call back later. Duncan knows she didn’t buy the ticket, but he doesn’t care. He’s going to give it to her anyway.”

  Alvirah’s heart sank. She’d been hoping against hope that Flower had maybe gone skiing for the day and was going to surprise Duncan tonight. These kidnapping situations usually don’t end well, she thought. There’s always the fear the kidnappers will panic, and then…

  She knew that Regan and Jack were thinking the same thing.

  34

  You two-timing jerk!” Betty cried as she stood over a stunned Edmund, whom she’d karate chopped in the back of the head. Dazed, he began to struggle clumsily to his feet.

  “Don’t bother,” Jed said quietly from the doorway, pointing a pistol at Edmund. “Betty, let’s get him tied up.”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” she asked impatiently, grabbing the duct tape. “I’ve got to get back inside. People are wolfing down my scones.” With swift movements she secured Edmund’s hands behind his back and twisted tape around his legs.

  They heard the outer door of the shed open and close. “Here comes 911,” Jed scoffed in a low voice.

  As Betty was about to stuff Edmund’s mouth, he cried out, “Woodrow, run!”

  But it was too late.

  A moment later Jed was escorting Woodrow back to his office, his gun pointed at Woodrow’s ear. “Betty, it looks like you’re going to have to help me up at Devil’s Pass. We now have three people going for a dip tonight.”

  “Jed, what are you talking about?” Woodrow asked, his voice trembling.

  “Your cousin here said you wanted to let this little girl go. That wouldn’t have been so good for me and Betty, now would it?”

  “We weren’t going to let her go.”

  “Then what were you planning to do?” Betty asked harshly as she pulled his arms behind him and started to bind them with the tape.

  “Let’s work this out,” Woodrow pleaded. “When we cash in the lottery ticket, we’ll only take ten percent. The rest is yours.”

  “Only if you throw in a couple oil wells,” Betty snapped. “I’m tired of listening to your lies.” She stuffed his mouth with a gag.

  Within five minutes, their three captives securely bound and gagged, Betty was back in the parlor.

  Rhoda Conklin and Tishie Thornton were talking animatedly to two women at a neighboring table.

  “They actually put Duncan’s girlfriend’s ring on display at Pettie’s jewelry store,” Tishie was telling her enthralled listeners. “He was furious.”

  “Some girl came into the store looking for him this morning,” Rhoda said. “I don’t see how that could be his girlfriend though. She seemed stunned when I told her he’d quit because he won the lottery.”

  One of the women waved her hand dismissively. “Maybe it was someone who did know he had won and was hoping to meet him.”

  “But who would go to work when they just came into twelve million dollars?” the other woman asked. She laughed. “Right, Rhoda?”

  “It’s not my problem anymore who does or doesn’t come to work,” Rhoda snarled. “Or who Duncan’s girlfriend is.”

  They don’t know she’s missing yet, Betty thought gratefully as she started to clear a vacated table. We have to get Flower and the others out of here the minute it gets dark. Rhoda spotted her and beckoned. “Could we have our check now? I was wondering where you were. We would have liked another cup of tea, but it’s too late now. I even went looking for you in the kitchen.”

  Did she look into the laundry room? Betty wondered uneasily. She had stuffed Flower’s coat in the hamper and tossed her knapsack behind it. Could Rhoda have seen it? “Sorry,” Betty said with a smile. “Things have been so busy with the Festival. I’ve had my hands full.”

  “We don’t care about the Festival,” Tishie said. “Bah, humbug.”

  “Bah, humbug is right,” Rhoda agreed as she reached for her purse. “This is my treat, Tishie. Thanks for picking me up. I knew I couldn’t drive in this mess. Thank God I’m moving back to Boston tomorrow.”

  Thank God is right, Betty thought.
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  35

  After the lottery ticket was securely locked away in the vault of Branscombe’s only bank, Ralph, Tommy, and Marion agreed to meet at the start of the candlelight ceremony. Ralph and Judy, hand in hand, had headed toward their car; Tommy, closely guarded by his parents, had gotten behind the wheel of their ten-year-old sedan; Marion had driven home through the snow by herself.

  Inside her house, Marion put the keys on the kitchen counter and went into her bedroom. I’ll get out of my dress-up clothes and put a robe on, she thought. I’ll make myself a cup of tea and relax for a few hours. I hardly closed an eye last night, but I know I’ll never sleep now.

  Out of the blue, she burst into tears. Grabbing a hanky from her drawer, she dabbed her eyes. I feel so alone, she thought. This money is wonderful, but I’m going to miss seeing my friends every day—the people I worked with, excluding The Skunk, and our regular customers. What am I going to do with myself when I wake up in the morning?

  She put on her robe, tied the sash, and told herself how silly she was being. So many people would give their eye-teeth to be in my shoes right now, she thought. But if only Gus were still alive. We’d have so much fun planning trips. She remembered the dozens of pictures of penguins a Conklin’s customer had shown her, taken on a cruise to Antarctica. I think Gus and I would have skipped the penguins and gone to someplace warm, Marion decided wistfully.

  In the kitchen, she turned on the kettle, opened the cabinet, got out a cup and a tea bag. I should call Glenda. Reaching for the phone, she looked at the list of numbers taped to the side of the refrigerator and dialed. When Glenda answered, Marion could hear the buzz of activity in the background. “Glenda, the ticket is locked up,” she began brightly. “How’s Duncan?”

  “Not good,” Glenda said quickly. “His girlfriend is missing.”

  “What?”

  Glenda filled her in. “I’m at the church bazaar. We’re showing her picture to everyone. On top of that, we picked up the flower ring from the jewelry store, and it turns out it was stolen eight years ago.”

  “Flower’s ring was stolen?”

  “Actually, what I mean is that the ring Duncan bought for her is in the shape of a flower, and…I’m sorry, Marion, I can’t talk now.”

  “I want to help!” Marion cried.

  “We can’t have you walking around in the snow ringing doorbells.”

  “Glenda, don’t put me out to pasture! Don’t forget, until this morning I stood on my feet all day at the bakery.”

  “I know what you can do. I’ll have someone here e-mail you Flower’s picture. Go down to Conklin’s, stand inside the entrance, and show it to everyone who comes in. Maybe someone saw her.”

  “Conklin’s?” Marion asked tentatively.

  “Oh, I didn’t tell you. The Skunk is gone for good. She and Sam broke up this morning. He’s thrilled.”

  “Send me that e-mail ASAP. I’m on my way!” Marion hung up. A flower-shaped ring, she thought as she rushed back into the bedroom. I know I’ve seen somebody wearing one.

  But who?

  And where?

  36

  Betty carried the last tray of tea cups and dessert plates into the kitchen. She dropped the tray next to the sink and with heavy steps strode to the door of the laundry room.

  “What are you doing?” Jed asked.

  “Checking to see if that knapsack is visible. Rhoda Conklin was in the kitchen when we were in the shed. She saw Flower this morning at the market, and she may have noticed she was carrying a red knapsack.” Betty stared at the red fabric sticking up from behind the hamper. “You can see a little bit of it, but not so much that you’d pay attention. If that ‘Flower Power’ logo had been visible, we could have been sunk.” She grabbed the knapsack and Flower’s coat and threw them at Jed. “Pull the van up next to the shed and hide these in it. We’ve got to move the three of them into the van and off this property fast.”

  “Betty, it’s not dark yet.”

  “Jed, stop being so stupid. Rhoda Conklin, that gossip Tishie Thornton, and some other women were all talking about Flower. They don’t know that she’s missing yet, but I’m sure word has gotten out. Someone’s already called here to see if she checked in. We can’t take a chance that the police may stop by and start snooping around. They don’t need a search warrant to walk around the back and see the Winthrops’ car behind the shed. Let me remind you—they told us the cops were probably looking for them.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Jed snapped. “Someone may be upstairs.”

  “No one is upstairs. Why would the television people be here when they have the Festival to cover?” she snapped back.

  “Betty, we have to wait until it gets dark,” he said firmly. “It’ll only be another half hour.”

  “Then just pull the van around and stay with them in the shed until we leave. That girl is smart. She already figured out a way to attract attention. Someone could have heard her kicking the wall if I hadn’t stopped her.”

  “So, you stopped her. But remember, this is your fault. You should have handled it better when the Winthrops showed up.”

  “And you should never have become friends with them in prison!” Nervously, Betty began to rinse the cups. “Jed, after we get rid of them we’d better think about moving on from here, and soon. There are going to be a lot of questions asked when Flower doesn’t show up, never mind the other two. If anyone starts digging deep, it won’t take them long to find out that the real Betty and Jed Elkins died when their touring bus crashed in Germany six years ago.”

  37

  Duncan, if you perceive that woman’s call as being a threat, then you might be right that those guys have Flower,” Jack said bluntly.

  “We’d better talk in the office,” Steve suggested. “It’s through that door in the corner.”

  Steve and Muffy, the Reillys, Alvirah and Willy, and Glenda and Duncan followed Steve into the office, and Jack closed the door behind them.

  “They must have Flower,” Duncan blurted. “That’s why I’m going to give that ticket to their aunt. Why did she hang up? I didn’t say I wouldn’t give her the ticket.”

  “She’s playing with you, Duncan,” Regan said. “She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  Duncan pointed to the window. “It’s going to be dark soon. I can’t just sit around and wait for that woman to call back. We’ve got to look for Flower. It may sound stupid to you, but I feel as if she’s pleading with me to find her before it’s too late.”

  “We will, Duncan,” Jack said quickly. “But we can’t officially treat this as a kidnapping yet. You did take the ticket they bought, and they want it back. It could be just a coincidence that Flower is missing. And her disappearance could involve someone else, now that we know she’s an heiress. The thing you have to take heart about is that she’s an adult, and hasn’t been out of touch for all that long. She tried to reach you a few times this morning. She could walk in the door of this bazaar any minute.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Duncan said flatly. “I know she’s out there, and I know she needs my help.”

  “Well then let’s get started,” Regan said briskly. “Steve, can we use one of these machines to duplicate Flower’s picture?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is where we’ve been doing the mailings for the Festival,” Muffy informed them. “I’ll scan the picture into the computer and print out copies. Then we can do an e-mail blast. We must have the e-mail address of almost everyone in town. I’ll send out an emergency alert, with Flower’s picture and description.”

  “That’d be great,” Regan said.

  “I promised Marion I’d send her Flower’s picture,” Glenda said. “She’s going to go over to Conklin’s and show it to everyone who comes through the door.”

  “I’ll call our chief of police,” Steve said. “We reserve a few numbers that we use for emergencies. He’ll give me one of them to put on the e-mail, so people can call in if they’ve seen
her.”

  Duncan hadn’t let go of Flower’s picture since Glenda gave it back to him after they had canvassed Main Street. Now he carefully took the picture out of the frame and handed it to Muffy. She sat down at the computer and got to work.

  The activity obviously sparked a flicker of hope in Duncan.

  “Duncan, we’ll show her picture to all the volunteers here now,” Alvirah said comfortingly. “Then we’ll take to the streets. There’s no reason we can’t reach everyone in Branscombe in the next hour.”

  “Steve and I are heading over to the park in a few minutes,” Muffy said as the printer was spitting out copies of Flower’s picture. “We’re supposed to be at the reviewing stand when Santa arrives. We’ll get some of the Festival workers over there to distribute Flower’s picture.”

  “Aren’t there going to be people lining Santa’s route?” Nora asked.

  “Yes,” Steve answered. “They’re gathering already. Some people don’t mind waiting in the cold and snow to get a good view.”

  “Luke and I would be happy to go out along the route with Flower’s picture and show it to the people who are already out there.”

  “Absolutely,” Luke confirmed. He put his hand on Duncan’s shoulder but didn’t know what to say. He remembered how terrified he had been when he and his driver were kidnapped and left to die in a leaky boat. “Let’s move fast, everyone,” he urged.

  “I’ll go with you and Nora,” Willy offered. “I might not look it, but I’m quick on my feet. I know Alvirah will want to stay close to Regan and Jack and Duncan. It’s best if we fan out and cover as much ground as possible.”

  “Muffy, before we all split up,” Alvirah said, “do you know Rufus Blackstone?”

  “Rufus Blackstone? Of course I do. He’s playing Scrooge in ‘A Christmas Carol.’ They were rehearsing across the street at town hall, but they should be about wrapped up by now. Why?”