Snowy Misery (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 7)

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Snowy Misery (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 7) Page 4

by Wendy Meadows


  Sarah was surprised to hear Conrad speak so openly. Usually, the man guarded his emotions. “Every day is a blank page and a new prayer.”

  Before Conrad could respond, Brad reappeared. “I've decided that my trip to Alaska has been in vain after all. I'm going to rent a room for the night and leave first thing in the morning,” he announced without taking a seat.

  Sarah raised her eyes and examined Brad's face. The man was clearly anxious and scared. “Brad, what are you scared of?” she finally asked, deciding to dive right into the deep end of the pool and skip the swimming lessons.

  “I don't know what you mean,” Brad replied and began putting on his gloves. He wouldn’t meet her eyes yet again. “Sarah, it's clear to me that I made the right decision in divorcing you, if you truly are not willing to discuss it further. This trip has taught me that truth. You and I have obviously grown apart and live in two completely different worlds now.”

  Sarah fought back tears. Sweet memories stung her mind. She saw Brad as her husband instead of the rude, cold man standing before her. Everything inside of her heart wanted to beg Brad to take her back home with him. Instead, she lowered her eyes and looked at the marshmallows floating in her hot cocoa. “Have a safe trip home, Brad. It was...nice seeing you again.”

  “On the contrary,” Brad objected, “this trip has not been pleasant in the least. Goodbye, Sarah.”

  “Don't let the door hit you on the way out,” Amanda retorted and pointed at the front door. “Hotel is two miles south of town. You can't miss it.”

  Brad threw a sour look at Amanda and then turned to walk to the diner’s door.

  “Excuse me,” Sarah said and rushed off to the bathroom.

  “I better go with her,” Amanda told Conrad and ran after Sarah.

  Conrad drew in a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the front of the diner behind Brad. He didn’t want to give the man the opportunity to turn around and find Sarah and make things worse.

  After Brad went through the front door, Conrad held the door open and watched him walk away through the snow. “Jerk,” he muttered and began to pull the door shut. But before he could, a single rifle shot erupted in the still, quiet air of the snowy town. Conrad saw Brad's body thrown backward and then crumple down into the snow, only a few paces away from the door. “Get down!” he yelled at the people eating in the diner. Without wasting a second, he drew his gun, squatted down, and began searching the snow for a shooter. All his eyes managed to make out were snow-covered, frozen buildings. “Where are you?” he whispered, straining to see through the heavy falling snow.

  Sarah came running out of the bathroom and made her way to Conrad. “What is it?” she asked.

  Conrad grabbed Sarah and pulled her down into a crouch beside him. He looked into her panicked eyes. “Someone...shot...your ex-husband,” he said and eased the front door closed.

  “No,” Sarah began crying and tried to run outside into the storm. Conrad grabbed her. “Let me go!” Sarah yelled. The diner was filled with the panicked whispers of customers.

  “Sarah, the shooter could still be outside,” Conrad said in a soft voice and pulled Sarah into his arms.

  “Let me go!” Sarah screamed and tried to break free of Conrad. Conrad held on tight. “Let me go!”

  Amanda ran up to Sarah and grabbed her. “What's happening?” she asked Conrad in a scared voice.

  “Sarah's husband has been shot,” Conrad explained in a regretful voice. “We can’t go out there, the shooter could be waiting for another target.” He transferred Sarah into Amanda's arms and eased open the front door. Brad was lying face down in the snow. Conrad darted his eyes around, desperately searching for the shooter.

  Sarah yanked away from Amanda and managed to push her body through the front door before Conrad grabbed her. She saw Brad lying in the snow. “No,” she cried. “Oh Brad, no.” Sarah's tears were met by a second rifle shot that shattered the front window of the diner.

  “Down!” Conrad yelled and yanked Sarah back inside and used his body to shield her. “Everybody stay down!” The tinkle of glass faded and the shrieks of terror quieted as everyone waited to see what would happen next.

  Amanda grabbed Sarah's hands and began pulling her back toward the bathrooms. “Come on, love,” she pleaded. Sarah felt her heart collapse and all of her strength drain out of her body. She allowed Amanda to pull her back without putting up any resistance. The two women ducked down behind the table, peeking out a little to watch Conrad.

  Conrad made his way to the phone on the front counter and called Andrew at the police station. “We have an active shooter. One man is down,” he explained. “Keep the guys at the station inside. Whoever the shooter is, he has the upper ground.” Conrad ran an angry hand through his hair. “I didn't see anyone out on the sidewalk...”

  “This snow is good cover for a shooter,” Andrew told Conrad in a worried voice.

  “I know,” Conrad said and focused his eyes on Sarah. Sarah was on her knees, leaning into Amanda's arms. Anger flared in his chest. “The man down in the street – I can’t reach him yet. His name is Brad Garland, and I think he brought someone with him,” he said through gritted teeth. “Someone who wants Sarah dead.”

  Outside, the strange words of a song echoed as a figure disappeared around a corner. “The weather outside is frightful, but this game is so delightful, and since you’ve no place to go, let it snow...let it snow...let it snow...”

  In the diner, Sarah cuddled up into Amanda's arms and closed her eyes. “This was no coincidence. This was what I saw in his eyes…”

  Amanda was worried. “Love, what are you saying? What did you see?”

  “The fear. This is why he was afraid. Brad brought a killer with him,” she whispered. “And I think I know who the killer is.”

  “Who, love?” Amanda begged. “Who did that awful man bring to our town?”

  Sarah looked up into Amanda's eyes and wiped at her tears. “Amanda,” she spoke in a voice barely loud enough to hear, “my ex-husband...he might have brought...the Back Alley Killer with him.”

  Amanda's eyes went wide. “But the Back Alley Killer is locked away in prison...right?”

  Sarah didn't respond. Instead, she looked toward the front door and closed her eyes to the memory of her ex-husband’s dead body lying in the cold, cold snow. I'm coming for you, Sarah. Oh yes, it's time for the final game and this time I'm going to win, she heard a hideous voice echo in her mind.

  “What's the plan?” Andrew asked Conrad.

  Conrad spotted Sarah staring at the front door with terrified eyes. “I don't know, Andrew,” he confessed and ran his left hand through his hair again. “I don't know.”

  Outside, the heavy snow continued to fall, blanketing the still figure that lay on the sidewalk.

  Chapter Three

  Night had fallen. The diner was still and nervous. Snow was pouring in through the broken window, accumulating on the floor in little frozen piles that whirled around and resettled, over and over, an angry thumbprint of the storm’s hand. The winds continued to howl into the ears of the trapped people who grew more scared by the minute. “It's been hours,” Marion told Conrad. She was sitting with her back leaning against the front counter and her arms tucked around her knees. “I really want to get home to my husband.” She had a spare tablecloth wrapped around her like a blanket.

  Conrad kept his eyes on the storm outside. Brad's body was now buried in snow. “The shooter could still be outside,” he warned Marion. “We have to wait for Andrew to call the all-clear. He and the others are searching the town now, all the storefronts and roofs. It’s taking some time in this weather, of course.”

  Marion spotted Sarah walking out of the bathroom and begin making her way through the diner toward Conrad. Amanda was right behind her. “Sarah is out of the bathroom,” she told Conrad.

  Conrad turned away from the door. He saw Sarah walking toward him with a face that was now focused and ready to act. “Are you okay?�
��

  “No,” Sarah admitted and eased toward the front door just enough to see the spot where her ex-husband's body lay under the snow. “I can't believe Brad is dead,” she told Conrad in a miserable voice.

  Conrad put a gentle hand down on Sarah's shoulder. “Sarah, you said you believed your ex-husband brought the Back Alley Killer to Snow Falls. Why?” he asked. “What makes you believe the person who shot your ex-husband is the Back Alley Killer?”

  Sarah locked her eyes on the snow covering Brad's body. The distant hope of reconciling her broken marriage was forever destroyed. The desperate dream of returning to her old life and pick up the pieces was now demolished. Her old life...the life she had once loved and cherished...had been murdered along with her ex-husband. Sure, she could go back to Los Angeles and buy the house she had once called home, but the life...the oak tree...the city...her job...would be meaningless, a shadow of what it had once been. Brad, Sarah felt within her shattered heart, had always been the anchor that held her life within the harbor of Los Angeles. Now the man was dead...and a major part of Sarah died along with him. “The first victim the Back Alley Killer shot was a divorcee,” Sarah spoke in a low, troubled, voiced. “I could be wrong, but I don't think I am. But that’s not how I know,” she added. “I know it was the Back Alley Killer who forced Brad to come here because I saw the fear in his eyes. There’s only one thing…one person…who could have caused him to come crawling here, demanding a reconciliation that he didn’t want. I know...knew...my husband.”

  Conrad stared into Sarah's hurt and scared eyes. “I had Andrew make a few calls,” he spoke in a reluctant tone. “Francis Norman Clark escaped from his prison cell around the same time you were in Oregon.”

  “Why didn't someone call Sarah?” Amanda exclaimed in an angry voice. “A mad serial killer escapes from prison and no bloody authority figure thinks to tell the woman who captured him? What kind of world are we living in?”

  “The authorities didn't want to alert anyone,” Conrad explained.

  “Why?” Amanda demanded.

  “To prevent mass panic,” Sarah explained and stepped back from the front door. She turned and looked at her best friend. “If the public becomes aware that a deadly serial killer is loose, mass panic would follow.”

  “So the so-called authorities believe it's better to risk people’s lives?” Amanda asked, incensed.

  “Yes,” Sarah replied honestly. “It's a disgusting pill to swallow, but that's the way local, state and federal governments operate. Imagine thousands of people hunkering down at home and not showing up for work? Parents yanking their children away from schools? Businesses closing down? You're talking about mass panic that would cripple an entire community.”

  “And on top of that,” Conrad added, “imagine thousands of people walking the streets with loaded weapons prepared to shoot into any shadow. I'm all for people having the rights to carry their personal firearms and protect themselves, but people walking around with scared, itchy trigger fingers isn't a good thing.”

  “People have the right to know,” Amanda argued.

  “Yes, they sure do,” Marion jumped into the fight. “If a killer is loose in Snow Falls, I would want to know. There's innocent children at risk, for crying out loud.”

  “I agree with you,” Sarah promised Marion.

  “So do I,” Conrad said, “but I can understand the need to prevent panic. It's a double-edged sword.”

  “Double-edged sword or not, there's a killer loose in Snow Falls,” Marion snapped. “I read all about this Back Alley Killer when I found out our very own Sarah Garland was the woman who captured him. Snow Falls is a small town and word gets around fast. I couldn't believe a detective from Los Angeles had made her way to our little town. And on top of that, the woman was famous for catching some serial killer that I never even heard of. But let me tell you, after I began reading about the Back Alley Killer...my skin crawled up and down my back all night. I didn't sleep a wink.”

  Conrad glanced at the faces hunkered down in their seats. He knew every face. And the faces were looking at him with angry, accusing eyes, questioning him. “Everyone, please listen to me,” Conrad said. “I know you're upset. But I assure you that neither myself or Detective Garland was aware until today that the person known as the Back Alley Killer arrived in town with Brad Garland. We're not even sure the person who killed Brad Garland is the Back Alley Killer.”

  “Don't feed us that lie,” a man named David Ellis yelled at Conrad. “I'm sixty-eight years old and I've lived in Snow Falls most of my life. Up until that woman arrived, this town has been a peaceful place to call home.” David pointed at Sarah. “That woman has brought nothing but trouble with her. But I'm the only one with enough guts to say it!”

  “Oh hush up, Dave,” Marion snapped, “and just remember how many times you've been pulled over for driving with a whiskey bottle before you go pointing a hard finger at poor Sarah. You're no saint. And if I remember correctly, you were the person who nearly ran over poor Mrs. Mulkey.”

  Dave shoved his hands into the rugged brown coat he was wearing and gave Marion a sour look. “That old windbag walked right out in front of me.”

  “Sure she did,” Marion rolled her eyes. “Sarah, ignore that grouch. Everyone in Snow Falls is thrilled that you've decided to call our little community home. You're a welcome member of our family.”

  Sarah wanted to thank Marion for defending her but she wasn't in the mood. Instead, she allowed the anger bubbling in her chest to speak for her. “Mr. Ellis,” she said and stormed up to the booth he was sitting in, “America is a free land. A person has the right to live wherever they choose. If you can't accept that truth then I advise you to pack your bags and shove them down your throat! I didn't ask for the trouble that followed me to Snow Falls. I moved to this town because my husband divorced me and I needed a fresh start. And now, you lousy, cold-hearted toilet sponge, my husband is dead. So my advice to you is to shut your mouth before I slap it into the snow!”

  “Wow,” Amanda whispered, “I've never seen Los Angeles lose her temper before.”

  “You can't talk to me like that,” Dave objected and tried to stand up. Sarah took her right foot and kicked him back down in his seat. “Hey!”

  “Don't press me!” Sarah warned Dave and pointed a finger at him. “I know all about you. I know you're a drunk that the local cops tolerate because they’ve known you since elementary school. I've seen you staggering down the sidewalk a time or two with my own eyes.” Sarah raised her voice. “I know you live off of the money that was left to you by your parents when they were suddenly killed in car accident. I know you never married and live alone and that most people in Snow Falls could care less about you and your drinking!”

  Dave stared up at Sarah with shocked eyes. The polite detective that seemed timid at times was turning out to be a vicious tiger. “You...leave me alone,” he grouched at her, but he backed down.

  “With pleasure,” Sarah growled and walked back to Conrad, eased open the front door, and studied the dark night. The snow was falling in hard, steady streams, making it difficult to see across the street. “Conrad, we can't stay in this diner forever.”

  “And if we step outside we may get shot,” Conrad pointed out. “If the person who shot your ex-husband is the Back Alley Killer, he was smart to wait until we came to the diner. Now we're trapped.”

  “We can go out of the back door,” Marion pointed out. “We can escape into the alley.”

  Conrad had considered that option. The thought of a second shooter prevented him from voicing his approval. “It's been a few hours,” he said and focused on Sarah. “What do you think, Detective?” he asked.

  “If the Back Alley Killer wanted me dead, I would be dead,” Sarah told Conrad in a voice that sounded defeated. “This is personal, Conrad. Francis Clark will strike people I care about and then come for me.”

  “Which means you're certain he's the one that killed your husband?” Conra
d said.

  “Francis Clark breaks out of prison and months later my ex-husband shows up in the town I live in with fear in his eyes. Yes, I'm certain,” Sarah turned around and locked her eyes on Amanda. “You're my shadow, do you understand me? You are not to leave my sight even when you go to the bathroom.”

  Amanda felt fear grip her heart. She had faced many dangerous cases with Sarah but not once had she ever seen absolute panic consume her best friend's eyes. “You bet, love...I'm your shadow,” she said in a shaky voice.

  Sarah spun around and nodded her head at Conrad. “Detective Spencer, you're also my shadow. You, me and Amanda, we're a team, is that clear?”

  “Clear,” Conrad said.

  “Good.” Sarah stared at the front door. “It's dark. This storm will work against Francis but also help him. My guess is right now he's finding a place to bed down for the night.” Sarah bit down hard on her lip. “He might choose a home at random and take hostage whoever is living there.”

  “Or kill the people living in that home,” Amanda fretted.

  Sarah shook her head no. “Francis isn't a random killer. He fooled me at first into believing that he was. I'll explain later.”

  “So...we can leave?” Marion asked.

  Sarah hesitated. Francis Clark was a brilliant, clever and deadly killer. The man has won two world chess tournaments and had worked for the Los Angeles NCIS for ten years after serving nine years in the Navy as an intelligence officer. The man was a stealth killer. His grudge was going to be personal, and his method was going to be precise. “Francis is here to kill me...not you, Marion,” she finally spoke. “Yes, leave. Go out of the front and not the back.”

  “The streets are snowed over. No one will be able to drive out of town,” Dave complained. “The plow hasn't run in hours.”

  “I live a few blocks away,” Marion said. “I can walk.”

 

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