Snow Happens

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Snow Happens Page 5

by Wendy Meadows


  “It’s like my grandmother used to say,” Conrad said. “Whenever I got sick as a kid, she used to insist that I eat matzo ball soup, even though we’re not Jewish. I would always ask her if the soup would make me feel better, and my grandmother would reply ‘It can’t hurt’.”

  “That’s true,” Sarah smiled and looked at the phone on Conrad’s desk. “I’d better call Amanda.”

  Conrad leaned forward and slid the phone toward Sarah. She set down the water bottle and called Amanda’s home phone. It was picked up on the first ring. “Ms. Garland, how nice of you to call.”

  Sarah’s blood froze and her eyes grew wide as panic struck her chest. She recognized the calm British voice. Bradley Preston.

  “What...where is Amanda?” she demanded.

  “Right here beside me on her cozy brown couch,” Bradley replied easily. “Speak,” he commanded Amanda.

  “I’m alive,” Amanda yelled at the phone in a scared voice.

  Bradley drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. “Your friend has a lovely home. Reminds me of a flat I had back in London.”

  “If you hurt Amanda I will dedicate my life—” Hearing this, Conrad stood up and rushed around his desk. Sarah made room for him to hear Bradley speaking through the receiver.

  “Please, Ms. Garland, we are both professionals,” Bradley said in a sour voice. “Threats are futile and only serve to create needless enemies.”

  “What do you want?” Sarah asked.

  “Insurance. I want you to leave town now, along with Detective Spencer. You two may return in one week. By then, my job will be accomplished and I will be gone. No one will get hurt and everyone will be none the wiser.”

  “And Amanda?” Sarah asked.

  “If you do as I have requested, no harm will come to her,” Bradley assured her. “If you refuse, or decide to play any games, then perhaps a certain man may return back from London only to find himself... wifeless.”

  “Leave town,” Amanda cried out. “Sarah, take Conrad and go on holiday for crying out loud. Do I have to spell it out for you? Bradley is here in my house with a hired killer and a gun and a silencer. Let him have what he wants.”

  “Do we have an agreement?” Bradley asked.

  Conrad nodded at Sarah. “Yes,” Sarah said, in a purposefully defeated tone. “You win, Mr. Bradley. Detective Spencer and I will leave town for one week.”

  “Beginning tonight,” Bradley said forcefully. “I realize the weather is not very favorable, but the sooner the better, I would say.”

  “Fine, tonight.”

  “I have a man watching the police station. He will ensure that you keep your word. You have two hours. If you fail to leave town within that time limit, then I will be forced to punish your friend for every minute you delay,” Bradley continued.

  “Fine, two hours,” Sarah agreed quickly. “Please, there is no need to hurt Amanda. She’s innocent. Detective Spencer and I will get out of town, okay?”

  “Very good, Ms. Garland. You have two hours,” Bradley said again and ended the call.

  “I’m going to take that man down,” Sarah said, slamming the phone down with a furious hand. “This is personal, now. No one messes with my girl and gets away with it.”

  “Before your head explodes,” Conrad said, “we’d better get out of here. We’ll take your Subaru. Let’s go.”

  Sarah grabbed Conrad’s arm. “Bradley doesn’t know you’ve spoken to Mr. Pence, Conrad. If he finds out, he may hurt Amanda.”

  “It’s a flip of the coin,” Conrad reminded Sarah in a steady tone. “We have a hostage being held by a man who will not hesitate to act. Our only chance to save Amanda is to get to Mr. Pence and see what he has to say.”

  “And then what?” Sarah asked anxiously.

  “And then,” Conrad said, pulling Sarah up to her feet, “we make an attack plan. Now let’s move. We have less than two hours now and the way the snow is falling outside, we’re going to need every single second to get out of Snow Falls.”

  Sarah looked toward the office window. “Hang tight, June Bug... I’m coming back,” she promised, and then hurried out of the office with Conrad.

  Chapter Five

  Conrad and Sarah walked into a warm office that resembled the interior of a log cabin. A wooden desk covered with files and papers stood facing a blazing fire singing in a stone fireplace. The walls of the office were hung with family photos. The floor was decorated with a simple but tasteful green rug. “Please, sit down,” Roger Pence said in a welcoming tone.

  Sarah walked to a wooden chair with a green cushioned seat, sat down, and smoothed out her dark gray dress. Conrad sat down in the chair next to her. “Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Pence.”

  Roger looked at Sarah. The woman was beautiful and obviously very brilliant, he observed. With her hair covered by a pink beret and her black leather jacket, she conveyed a certain toughness in her personality. Conrad, on the other hand, looked unkempt in his wrinkled black suit. “I have no more than ten minutes. I’m a very busy man.”

  Conrad folded his arms. The small, thin man sitting behind the wooden desk reminded him of a boy he had known in grade school. Roger Pence had narrow eyes and a thin, tight face that didn’t seem to understand how to smile. He was nearly bald, and currently he bore the expression of someone very constipated. “Sure,” Conrad said.

  Roger nervously adjusted his gray suit and focused on Sarah and Conrad. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I know you two are investigating the murder of a very good man. Charlie Raymond was one of the best. Caring, smart, outgoing... great with the public... always had a joke to tell. Everyone liked him.”

  “That’s not the story his co-workers in Alaska told us,” Conrad said. “The report we were given indicated that Mr. Raymond was a cold fish.”

  Roger’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no,” he insisted, “Charlie was a delightful man. I admit that I don’t smile very often... I blame my mother for that... but Charlie always brought out a smile in me.”

  “Mr. Pence, you mentioned that Mr. Raymond requested a transfer to Alaska after a group of scientists left Yellowstone?” Sarah asked.

  Roger tensed up. “Look,” he said worriedly, “that was a slip of the tongue.” He leaned forward and retrieved a piece of peppermint out of a crystal candy dish. “Peppermint?” he offered.

  “Speak to us,” Conrad told Roger in a tough voice. “We need answers.”

  Roger popped the peppermint into his mouth and then nervously began to rub his hands together. “Detective Spencer,” he said, “I...”

  “You’re scared,” Sarah said.

  Surprised, Roger bit down on the peppermint in his mouth so hard it sounded as if he’d cracked a tooth. “I’m leery,” he told Sarah.

  “Why?” Conrad asked.

  Roger continued to rub his hands together. “Detectives,” he said, “the scientists who visited Yellowstone were not American. They were British. They visited ostensibly as nothing more than mere tourists. They took a tour of the Old Faithful geyser, visited the hot springs... normal tourist stuff. Charlie, rest his soul, took the group of scientists out each day. They stayed for four days and then left.”

  “How many scientists?” Conrad asked.

  “Three. Two men and one woman.”

  “Did these scientists mention their field of study?” Sarah inquired.

  “They were volcanologists,” Roger explained, “on what they called a ‘holiday’ from their station in Iceland.”

  “Do you have their names?” Conrad probed.

  Roger stopped rubbing his hands, closed his eyes, chewed on his peppermint, and then—painfully, as if he were having his appendix removed at that very moment—nodded his head. “Here,” he said and pulled out something from the top left drawer of his desk. “Take this.”

  Conrad reached forward and accepted the white piece of paper from Roger. The paper held the names of the three scientists. “Gwen... Gregory... Edward.”

  Sarah
studied the names. “This list has their names, the numbers to the cabins they rented, their payment information, their vehicle information... thank you, Mr. Pence, this will be very helpful.”

  “Mr. Pence,” Conrad said, “did Charlie Raymond come to you at any time and express concern over these visitors?”

  Roger looked from Conrad to Sarah and hesitated briefly before continuing. “On the fourth day, Charlie did come to me,” Roger said and looked down at his hands. “He told me he had seen one of the male scientists taking photos of Old Faithful. Of course, photos are allowed, but Charlie told me this scientist was taking enormous quantities of photos. But that wasn’t all... Charlie said that all three scientists had been continuously taking tons of photos of the park, but in continuous shifts. Charlie...”

  “Charlie what?” Sarah pressed.

  “Charlie told me that he suspected that they were spies for a foreign government. Of course, I laughed him out of my office and told him he had been working too hard,” Roger said in an ashamed voice. “And now, he’s dead. I should have seen the red flag waving in the air when Charlie put in for an immediate transfer to Alaska. Charlie loved Yellowstone. This park was his home.”

  “Did you happen to get any photos of these people... maybe on a security camera?” Conrad asked in a steady tone.

  Roger shrugged his shoulders. “We have live webcams aimed at Old Faithful and a few other locations, and there are security cameras in the park. But Detective, I don’t have the technical staff here to locate that footage in the archives.”

  “Did you ever meet the scientists?” Sarah asked.

  “On the day they left, yes,” Roger confessed.

  “What did they look like?” Conrad prompted.

  “The woman was young, maybe in her mid-twenties... very pretty,” Roger explained. “She seemed kinda young to be a scientist, but who was I to question her credentials?”

  “And the others?” Conrad urged.

  “One of the men was also young, about the same age as the girl. The second man was in his mid to late forties... very stern-looking, never smiled once,” Roger continued. “The girl had a reddish color to her hair... the young male had a military type haircut and a face that looked tough as a rock, even though he did smile a little and even shook my hand. The older man, he had on a Minnesota Twins baseball cap when we met, so I couldn’t see his hair color. They were all wearing the same type of clothes... kinda like you, Detective Garland. Black and gray.”

  “Was Charlie Raymond with you when you met them?” Sarah asked.

  Roger nodded his head. “He was,” he said, “but Charlie wasn’t acting like himself. He was nervous and seemed very anxious for the three scientists to leave the park. His face was pale and uneasy. In all my years, I had never seen Charlie so uptight. The scientists obviously noticed this because they all gave Charlie this kind of strange look and then... they left.”

  “Where did you meet them?” Conrad asked.

  “At the Old Faithful geyser. I was there with my grandson when Charlie came over. He told me the three scientists wanted to take one last look at the geyser before they left.”

  “Did you see any of them take any photos?”

  “The young girl,” Roger said, nodding his head. “She was taking photos of the younger guy standing in front of the geyser. I didn’t think anything of it. But obviously Charlie did. He frowned at me but didn’t say a word.”

  Conrad looked over at Sarah and then refocused on Roger. “Mr. Pence, you have been a great help to us. Please, if you see these three people, stay away from them and immediately call the police.”

  “They killed poor Charlie, didn’t they?” Roger asked sorrowfully.

  “It’s possible,” Sarah said as she stood up. “Mr. Pence, for now, please do not speak to anyone about our meeting, not even your wife. Detective Spencer and I are going to return to Alaska and continue our investigation.”

  Roger nervously rose to his feet. “Trust me,” he promised, “this meeting never took place. If I ever see those three phonies back here, I’m calling the feds.”

  “Good idea,” Conrad said. He shook Roger’s hand. “Thank you for all of your help.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Roger said, sounding relieved. When he reached his office door, he paused. “I was hesitant to speak to you... you have to know what I did today was for the sake of Charlie Raymond, bless his heart. He deserves justice.”

  “Justice will prevail,” Sarah promised as she exited the office.

  Conrad shook Roger’s hand again and stepped out into the hallway, which smelled of pine and roses. It was immaculately clean and had interesting artwork on the walls that reminded Conrad of spaghetti for some reason. “Let’s go get a bite to eat. We have a long drive back to Alaska.”

  “Sure,” Sarah agreed, “I could use something in my stomach. I’m really worried about Amanda, though, Conrad. I want to get back home as soon as possible.”

  “Let’s not be too hasty,” Conrad warned her as they began walking down the hallway together. “You and I both know these phony scientists are more likely to be terrorists than spies. Maybe Charlie Raymond realized this, somehow... and managed to extract information about their plans... and he was killed.”

  Sarah walked into the warm front lobby, made her way to the stone fireplace, and warmed her hands. Conrad grew silent. Sarah smiled at the older lady sitting behind the wooden front desk. “Very cold outside,” she said. The woman smiled back but didn’t reply. Instead, she went back to reading the old Western novel in front of her.

  Conrad nodded his head toward the set of double glass doors. “Ready?”

  Sarah kept her eye on the older lady. “It sure seems strange without Charlie around, doesn’t it?”

  The mention of Charlie’s name made the woman lower her book. “You know Charlie?” she asked Sarah.

  “Sure, Charlie is a fine man,” Sarah smiled. “I was sad to hear that he transferred out of the park.”

  She put down her book and clasped her hands together. Her graceful features took on a very sour expression. “Charlie was run off,” she said, looking toward the hallway. “I don’t care who hears me say that either. Charlie was run off from here. Shameful it was.”

  “Why would someone as nice as Charlie be run off?” Sarah asked with concern.

  The older lady kept her eyes on the hallway. “Mr. Pence ran Charlie off. Why? Because Charlie called the FBI, that’s why. Charlie was afraid that our park was under surveillance. The FBI came and left, and when they left, Charlie left. Whoever they were, they covered up their tracks too well. But I know the truth... Mr. Pence ran Charlie off.”

  “How awful,” Sarah said.

  The older woman nodded her head in agreement. “Mr. Pence said he forced Charlie to transfer for the good of the park... maybe that was so, but that still doesn’t excuse how poor Charlie was treated.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sarah said.

  “Me, too,” the receptionist said and picked up her book again. “I just work here part-time to supplement my Social Security income. But you’d better bet your butter beans I’m applying elsewhere, since that happened.”

  Sarah looked at Conrad to see if he had heard this. He raised his eyebrows and then nodded his head toward the front doors again. “Ready?”

  “Take care,” Sarah said to the older woman and followed Conrad out into the parking lot. It was surrounded with breathtakingly tall trees covered with winter snow. “So Charlie called the FBI, and that might have alerted Bradley Preston. And his transfer to Alaska might not have been so selfless after all.”

  “Seems that way, doesn’t it,” Conrad said, taking in the sight of the soaring trees. Beyond the trees lay a rough and rugged landscape of geysers, hot springs, rock formations, and other natural wonders that attracted millions of tourists each year. But what Conrad thought about the most was the volcano under their feet. Even though it wasn’t visible, he knew it was below them, growling, hissing, bubbling, a
nxious to explode at any moment. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

  “Sure,” Sarah agreed. She pointed at the red BMW parked next to her Subaru. “I guess Mr. Pence does okay for himself.”

  Conrad walked toward the car and examined the flashy red car, which was in a reserved parking spot with Roger Pence’s name stenciled in neat letters on the curb. “This car is brand-new,” he told Sarah. Stooping over, he looked in the driver’s side window to examine the interior. “Clean as a whistle, too.”

  “I would bet my last book advance Mr. Pence was paid a pretty penny to push Charlie Raymond out of Yellowstone,” Sarah said. Looking around, she spotted a young woman wearing a park ranger uniform watching them. “Let’s go.”

  Conrad lifted his head and, following Sarah’s gaze, spotted the park ranger standing next to a tall, snow-covered tree at the south end of the parking lot. He offered her a quick, friendly wave and walked over to Sarah’s Subaru. “Ten bucks Mr. Pence is being eaten up with guilt. With some people it’s like that,” he said, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling up.

  Sarah walked around to the driver’s side, glanced over her shoulder, and saw the park ranger pulling a cell phone out of the pocket of her brown coat. “Hurry up and tell Mr. Pence we’re leaving, young lady,” she whispered as she pulled open the car door. “Our friend over there is calling Mr. Pence,” she informed Conrad.

  “I expected him to have a set of eyes on us,” Conrad replied as Sarah situated herself behind the steering wheel and buckled her seat belt.

  “Years back,” Sarah said, bringing her Subaru to life, “my ex-husband and I visited this park. We had a wonderful time. We watched Old Faithful erupt, slept in a rented RV, roasted marshmallows over an open fire. Our time here was very nice.”

  Conrad waited until Sarah had pulled away from the main administration building before he spoke. “Memories hurt,” he said, watching the tall trees roll past the Subaru, slowly at first, and then faster and faster as the vehicle gained speed and headed up the Mammoth Hot Springs road toward the north entrance.

 

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