Wicked in Winter

by Jennifer Bernard

  Zander was probably still in town, waiting to pick up Jason from his ski practice. Maybe Earl hadn’t come home yet. But with a sinking heart, she remembered that he intended to replace the heat tape that kept the water flowing into the kitchen. He and Abby were both already home.

  If no one drove past, she’d have to race on her snowshoes all the way to the Noonans, and that would take precious minutes that Jeff might not have.

  As the seconds ticked past, she came up with more backup plans. Maybe she could try to drive the van, if it still ran. Could she somehow move Jeff without hurting him, then back the van up the hill to the road?

  Ridiculous ideas.

  What else? Signal flares? Maybe Jeff had something like that in the van? Should she have checked that first? Were her poor decisions about to cost a man his life?

  She was on the verge of tears when finally—finally!—a car rounded the curve from town. It was a tidy blue Toyota that looked oddly out of place in the Lost Harbor universe of work trucks and Subarus. A city car, with a woman at the wheel.

  Gretel waved madly to get the driver’s attention, even jumping up and down in her snowshoes. The driver turned on her hazards and pulled over next to Gretel. She rolled down the passenger-side window.

  “Do you need some help?”

  “Yes! I need a cell signal, can you drive me up the road a bit until I get a bar?”

  The woman frowned and cupped a hand around her ear. Gretel saw that she was Native Alaskan, with gray threaded through her dark hair. “You want to go to a bar?”

  “No! God no. I need cell service.” She came closer so the driver could hear over the sound of her engine. “A vehicle went off the road down there. The driver had some kind of medical crisis. We need to call 911 and I can’t get a signal.”

  Finally the woman seemed to understand. “Get in.” She gestured for Gretel to hop in. Something in her blunt manner made Gretel hurry to obey, but first she yelled down to the boys. “I’ll be right back! Hang tight!”

  “Is someone with the car?” the woman asked as Gretel snapped off her snowshoes. She planted them in the ridge of snow left by the plow truck. They’d be easy to spot, she figured.

  “Yes,” she said, then stopped before giving any more details. She didn’t know this woman, after all. Crime in Lost Harbor tended to be drug or alcohol-related, and domestic in nature. She probably wasn’t at risk from an unfamiliar woman, but she might as well be extra cautious.

  As they got underway, she stared at her phone, waiting for the infuriating “no service” to disappear and a bar to show up.

  “How long had you been waiting for someone to drive by?” the woman asked.

  “It seemed like forever! But I honestly have no idea. I was so happy when I saw your car. So few people live out this way. I was starting to worry that it could be hours before anyone came.” Ugh, she was babbling, something she did when she got nervous. Change the subject. “Do you know someone out this way?”

  “I’m headed for the Rosses. Do you know them?”

  “Of course I know them. Very well, actually.” Curiously, she dragged her gaze from her phone and glanced at the driver. What connection could she have with Zander and the kids? “Are you a friend of the family?”

  But she missed the woman’s response because just then her phone pinged. A bar appeared, then disappeared too quickly for her to place a call.

  She groaned in disappointment. “Actually, Petey Ross is back there with the vehicle. It’s his carpool. But he’s okay,” she said quickly. “Neither of the kids was hurt.”

  “Jason’s there too?” She knew their names; she must be a friend.

  “No, Jason’s at ski practice. Zander’s going to bring him home. He’s going to freak out when he hears about this, but he can’t be in two places at once, poor guy.”

  “Poor Zander has a lot to juggle, doesn’t he?”

  “Oh my gosh, he sure does. I honestly don’t know how he manages.” She was about to go on about Zander’s situation—and maybe ask a few questions of her own—but the phone dinged again. Two bars this time.

  “Pull over!” she cried. “Right here.” She was already dialing 911 as the Toyota veered to the side of the road.

  “Nine-one—”

  Gretel cut off the dispatcher in mid-911.“Car off the road! We need paramedics! The driver is Jeff Durst and he had a heart attack or a seizure or something. He needs medical help.”

  “Slow down,” said the dispatcher. “Where is the vehicle located?”

  “Wolf Ridge Road.”

  “Where on the road?”

  “Past the Durst place, do you know where that is?”

  “Do you know the mile marker?”

  “How would I know the mile marker? What is a mile marker? I mean, I know it marks the miles, but is it on your phone or something? How can I figure it out?”

  Sounding maybe a little amused, the dispatcher said, “It’s okay, we’ll use your cell signal to find you.”

  “No, I’m not with the vehicle. There’s no cell service there. But I put my snowshoes there as a marker. And I’m going right back there now.”

  “Good thinking,” the dispatcher assured her. Great, apparently she’d done something right, despite her ignorance when it came to ‘mile markers.’ “Someone’s on the way. Is there anything more you can tell me about the victim?”

  “No, except I checked his pulse and it was very fast. Two boys are with him and they’re going to keep him warm and be there in case he wakes up.”

  “Do you want to stay on the line until the EMTs arrive?”

  “No! I need to get back, as long as this amazing angel of a good Samaritan doesn’t mind driving me.” She gave her rescuer the most grateful smile in her extensive repertoire of smiles.

  After she hung up with the dispatcher, she made one more call—to Abby Noonan. “Abby, it’s Gretel. I don’t have the Dursts’ number, but Jeff was in an accident. The kids are all okay,” she said quickly before Abby panicked. “EMTs are on the way, but I was thinking you should call May Durst and let her know what happened. He had some kind of attack while he was driving and went off the road.”

  “Oh my god. I’ll call her right away, absolutely.”

  “Also, Petey and Eli need a pickup. I wouldn’t mind one too, since I don’t think I can snowshoe another inch.”

  “Of course. Earl will come right away.”

  “Perfect. Zander won’t be back until later, so—”

  “Petey will stay with us until then. I’ll call Zander right after I call May.”

  “You’re a doll.” Gretel hung up and sat back on her seat, utterly spent now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

  Her rescuer turned the Toyota around and headed back down the hill.

  “I seriously can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am,” she told the woman.

  The good Samaritan gave her a creaky smile, as if she didn’t do much of that in general. “I’m glad I was at the right place at the right time.” She sounded less brusque than she had at first.

  “No kidding.” Gretel scanned the side of the road for her snowshoes, or for a paramedic van, or anything breaking up the monotony of trees and snow. “I think it was destiny, or at least serendipity. It’s such a funny coincidence that you know the Ross family. I can’t wait to tell Zander.”

  “Are you going to see him today?”

  “Of course. I see him all the time.”

  Just then Gretel spotted the glow of blue and red flashers past the downward curve of the road. The paramedic van was almost here, and with any luck, Nate would be in it. At that point she could completely relax. Or almost completely, because she’d still be worried about Jeff, and she still wanted to make sure Petey and Eli got home safely. “I’m Gretel, by the way.”

  “Susan Baker. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  Gretel realized Susan Baker must think she was closer to the Ross family than she actually was. She opened her mouth to c
orrect her, but she was already bringing the car to a stop on the downhill side of the road, poised to head back to town.

  “You’re not going to the Rosses, after all?” Gretel asked in surprise.

  “No, I’ll come some other time. This doesn’t seem like the best time for a visit.”

  “Are you sure? Do you want me to give Zander a message?” Gretel got out of the car, anxious to get to the boys and make sure they were still okay.

  “No need. I’ll call soon. You can tell him that.”

  Was it Gretel’s imagination, or did that sound almost ominous?

  Chapter Twelve

  Zander screeched his work van to a stop outside the Noonans’ house and tore inside. As soon as he spotted Petey, he swept him into a bear hug that had the boy squirming in protest.

  “You’re okay? What’s that bruise on your forehead?”

  “It’s fine. The paramedics put ice on it, but it doesn’t even hurt. Jeez. Mr. Durst had a stroke! Can you believe it? In the middle of driving!”

  Zander shuddered at the very thought of it. As soon as Abby had called him, he’d charged into Jason’s practice—luckily it was an indoor workout day—and they’d headed for home. The details kept ringing through his brain like an echo.

  Stroke at the wheel. Car into a tree. No cell service. Gretel to the rescue.

  Where was Gretel? He located her in the play corner with the toddlers, sitting cross-legged while they all built a pyramid of blocks.

  She glanced up and met his eyes—pure sympathy shining from those turquoise depths—and he felt a rush of gratitude. She’d been there for Petey—for the second time—and he’d never forget that.

  But there was a whole roomful of people and he couldn’t properly express his feelings in that situation. So he just mouthed, “thank you,” to her and put a hand over his heart.

  The smile that lit her face was something to see—not just radiant, but filled with pride too, as if he’d offered her something priceless with his simple ‘thank you.’

  A chaos of conversation followed, with Petey determined to recount every single thing that had happened. And maybe a few things that hadn’t happened.

  “I’m pretty sure Eli and I heard a bear while Gretel was gone.”

  “That’s very unlikely, kid. All the bears are hibernating right now. And they don’t hibernate this close to people. You know that.”

  “Well, maybe we woke this one up when we crashed. It was such a loud sound, like bam.”

  Zander caught a flinch from Gretel. She probably didn’t want to relive all this, even if Petey did, in excruciating detail.

  “Come on, guys, let’s get home and get some dinner.”

  “Can Gretel come? I want Gretel to come. She saved us!”

  He focused on Gretel again, even though he hadn’t actually fully looked away from her yet. “Sure. But it’s up to Gretel. She might be too tired.”

  “Why don’t you guys stay here?” Abby spoke up from the kitchen, where she was stirring some kind of delicious-smelling sauce. “There’s plenty, despite Earl’s immense and endless appetite. Moose-meat spaghetti sauce.”

  Petey made a face and angled a pleading glance at Zander. Lately he’d been refusing to eat meat, which made cooking a lot more complicated.

  “We should probably get back. Jason has a lot of homework tonight.”

  Jason loitered by the door, the hood of his sweatshirt drawn up over his head. Until Zander had explained the situation, Jason had been furious about leaving practice early.

  This ski obsession was getting out of control, in Zander’s opinion.

  He met Gretel’s gaze again, and lifted his eyebrows in invitation. “I’ll drive you there and back. No snowshoeing required.”

  “Please, Gretel,” begged Petey. He hurtled across the room at Gretel and flung his arms around her. “It’ll be so much fun. Please.”

  Sometimes little brothers really came in handy. Who could resist that? Gretel rolled her eyes. “How about a little more drama, kid? Think you can manage it?”

  “Pleeeeeease!!!”

  Gretel climbed to her feet, which were encased in knee-high fleece slippers. With an impish smile, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Someone’s going to have to carry me, though. My feet are too sore to put boots on.”

  “I will!” And Petey actually did. He wrapped his arms around her legs and lifted her off the ground. He made it a few steps until he staggered to a stop. “Zander! Help!”

  Zander flexed his muscles, playing the strongman, and strode across the room. He plucked Gretel away from Petey and whisked her to the door, where she slid to the floor, laughing.

  And he tried desperately to hide the effects of that brief contact.

  Most of dinner consisted of Petey recounting his adventure over and over. They got word, halfway through, that Jeff Durst was conscious and alert. He’d experienced some damage to his right side, but with therapy, it would be manageable.

  The relief brought by that news put everyone in a happy mood.

  It wasn’t until after dinner—a Petey-friendly vegetable stir fry with a slab of venison for Jason— that disaster struck.

  Zander asked, casually, who had picked Gretel up by the roadside. She slapped her hand against her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! It was a friend of yours. Oh my God, I can’t remember her name—” She snapped her fingers to summon the memory. “She told me, right at the end, but everything was so crazy at that point—Susan something?”

  He frowned as he racked his brain for a Susan. “I don’t have any friends named Susan.”

  “She said she would call you and arrange another time to visit.”

  Visit. That word rang a bell.

  “What did she look like?”

  “Native Alaskan, maybe around fifty. Dark hair with a little gray. She could easily get rid of it, I thought about offering as a thank you for—what’s wrong?”

  Oh shit. Dread settled into his gut, sinking through him like a deadweight. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead to chase away the sudden tension.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Tell her? Nothing. I didn’t mention her hair at all, I just thanked her for—”

  “About us? What did you tell her about us? Our family?” His sudden intensity made her jump.

  “I don’t know. Nothing. I asked if she wanted to send you a message and she did, and I already gave it to you. She said she’d call you soon to come out and visit. Why?”

  “Jeez, Z, what’s wrong with you?” Jason frowned at him. Petey was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had, a little.

  But Gretel was a loose cannon. She loved to chat and get into long conversations with people. He needed to know exactly what she’d told Susan Baker.

  “Gretel, can I speak to you in private?”

  Her pretty eyes widened. “Again? Are you kidding?”

  “No. Please.”

  She must have picked up on his worry because she snapped her mouth shut and followed him into his bedroom.

  “I’ve missed this place,” she joked as they stepped inside. “It’s been too long.” Then she turned serious as she faced him. “What’s going on?”

  “Can you tell me, word for word, everything you said and everything Susan Baker said?”

  Gretel cocked her head, one of her earrings catching the light. She wore an unusually subdued bulky sweater in basic black. But nothing ever looked basic on Gretel. It clung to her body like fur on a kitten.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  “Because…it’s important.”

  “Why is it important?”

  “Why can’t you just tell me? Trust me, it’s important.”

  “Trust you? That’s ironic, when you don’t even trust me enough to explain why it’s so important! Who is Susan Baker? Why are you so worried about her?”

  He swung away from her, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

  “God, Zander, don’t you e
ver get tired of keeping everything to yourself?”

  Yes, he did get tired of it. Sometimes it made him feel like the weight of the entire world was on his shoulders. Just tell her, jackass.

  “Can you commit to not telling anyone else? Not the Noonans, not your sister, not the dude at the Wicked Brew, not fucking anyone.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and he realized that he’d offended her. Too bad. He needed her to know how important this was.

  “I’ve always been good at keeping secrets,” she told him stiffly. “I never spill. There’s a certain movie-star divorce that I knew about way before it happened. TMZ actually offered me a hundred thousand dollars to talk. If I didn’t then, why would I now?”

  He squinted at her, not sure if she was joking, and wondered how they’d gotten so far off the topic.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I know how much you like talking to people, that’s all.”

  Her expression softened just a smidge. “Talking to people is different from spilling their secrets.”

  “Yeah.” So maybe he’d underestimated her. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  “So now that you know I’m as good as a bank vault, tell me what’s going on,” she said. “Who is Susan Baker and why do you care what I told her?”

  He drew in a deep breath. He still didn’t know if he could fully trust her, but she’d just come through in a crisis—in a big way. Maybe he should give her the benefit of the goddamn doubt.

  “Okay, I’m going to tell you, but you can’t say anything to Jason or Petey. I haven’t talked to them about it yet.”

  “I promise. I won’t.”

  “She’s a caseworker for the Alaska Child Services Department.”

  Gretel’s fine eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Okay…so?”

  “So I’m still kind of a probationary guardian of my brothers. My parents didn’t leave a will. Caseworkers from the department check in now and then. I’m happy they do, because I know they’re just looking out for the boys. I don’t mind it. But Susan Baker is new. And I think she has something up her sleeve. I think someone wants to take Jason.”