In The Bleak Midwinter: A Special Agent Constance Mandalay Novel (4 page)

Daydreaming had distracted him and he’d
missed the weather again, just like earlier. Couldn’t very well
blame Ronnie for that one, no matter how much he might want to. Oh
well, judging from his words and song selection, apparently more
snow was still in the forecast, so that much hadn’t changed. Odds
were Clovis would have the latest report anyway. She usually
did.

Deputy Carmichael climbed out of the patrol
car once again, this time without hesitation. He locked it out of
habit then pushed his hat down on top of his short crop of brown
hair. It didn’t do much for his ears as far as the cold was
concerned, but he could live with that. He took a moment to adjust
his belt before starting across the small parking area at the back
of the building that housed the town jail and sheriff’s office.

Another glance at his watch told him he was
still flush with time before his shift started, so he considered
going ahead and having a cigarette now. Sheriff Morton had banned
smoking inside—a side effect of being a reformed nicotine addict
himself.

Stopping near the back door Skip reached
inside his jacket and withdrew a pack of reds from the inner
pocket, then tapped one out across his index finger. After tucking
the filter end between his lips he dug around for his lighter.
Absently shoving his hand into an outer pocket he once again felt
the small box and paused. After a moment of introspection he
snatched the unlit cigarette from his mouth, pushed it back into
the pack, and stowed it, then popped a peppermint into his mouth
instead.

He wanted to talk to Clovis before her shift
ended, and besides, he would probably end up smoking half a pack
later. He always did whenever he was out on patrol. It wasn’t
because of an addiction so much as it was just something to help
him escape the boredom without being too distracted.

After all, this was Hulis. It’s not like
anything ever really happened here.

CHAPTER 3

4:01 P.M. – December 22, 1975

Bremerton’s Dime Store

Hulis Township – Northern Missouri

ALL
Merrie wanted right now was to be
at home.

No… That wasn’t really true. She wanted way
more than that.

She not only wanted to be at home, she wanted
to be warm, next to the fireplace, with hot chocolate and a book.
And, she wanted it to be yesterday. She wanted more than anything
for today to just vanish. She wanted for it to have never, ever
happened.

And, her list didn’t stop there.

She also wanted something back that had been
taken from her. She wasn’t sure exactly what that something was,
but she could feel the emptiness inside where it used to be, so she
knew without a doubt that it was gone. And she was certain that
he
had taken it.

She didn’t just want these things, she was
wishing
for them. In fact, she had been wishing hard on them
for hours now. But so far, wishing hadn’t worked out any better
than wanting.

Still, out of all those things she wanted and
wished for so desperately, right now, at this very moment, she
would settle for just being home. And, the sooner they were
finished here, the sooner that could really happen, which is
exactly why she was standing before the huge front window of
Bremerton’s Dime Store, clutching tightly to Becca’s mitten encased
hand.

Her little sister simply wasn’t going to be
happy until she had officially recited her amended wish list to the
jolly elf in person. The letter Merrie had helped her write,
decorate, and “mail” to the North Pole two days ago just wasn’t
enough in her young mind. She had to talk to the man himself.

The problem had started in the car on the way
here, and before they were ever inside the market it had grown.
Beginning as an “I want” that quickly turned into a whine, it then
became the first embarrassing squeals of a signature Rebecca
Kathleen Callahan tantrum. She didn’t throw them as often as she
used to, but when she did they were just horrible, and Merrie could
tell this one had been well on its way to being one of her
worst.

Merrie could also tell that Mom was already
wearing down, and Becca’s outburst wasn’t helping at all. The
observation made her feel more confident about not having said
anything to her mother about what had happened at school. Right now
it wasn’t something Mom could handle. Not without Daddy to help, at
least. But the confidence came at a price, because at the same time
it made her feel even more afraid for their safety being out here
and not at home. It was obvious to Merrie that her mother couldn’t
protect herself and Becca, and she still couldn’t be sure that
he
hadn’t followed them.

Unfortunately, as her sister’s temper fit
grew in volume, her mother’s nerves began to fray, and she finally
gave in, promising that she would take her next-door to see Santa
once they had finished the shopping.

Becca was happy about getting her way, of
course, but still not satisfied. As five-year-olds tend to be, she
was twice as impatient as she was excited, which was still just as
annoying. Merrie actually shared her unwillingness to wait, but for
a wholly different reason. Panic had set in once again as soon as
her mother made the promise. Their current detour was already bad
enough because it turned out that Norris’s Market was packed with
people doing last minute shopping too, and that was turning a short
stop for a few things into what felt the same as a whole morning
grocery-shopping trip, just like they did every other Saturday. The
idea of it taking even longer still before they got home was just
unthinkable for her.

Merrie decided she had to keep that from
happening, and so she did the only thing she could think of to do.
She had offered to take her sister next door to visit Santa while
her mother waited in line at the butcher counter. Divide and
conquer, that’s what Daddy always said. If they could just get this
all over with now, they could go home and wait for him. Then she
could tell the secret. Then maybe she wouldn’t hurt inside so much.
And maybe,
just maybe
, things could finally be okay…or at
least as okay as they could ever be again.

Although the sick feeling in her stomach had
sort of gone away for a time, it had never really left completely.
However, now it was back worse than before as she watched the
brightly colored “Holiday Express” electric train weaving its way
through a fantasy toyland on the other side of the window glass. As
much as she wanted this to be over, she now found herself stalling.
With each step closer to Bremerton’s, her dread at seeing Santa
Claus had increased. Even though it wasn’t
him
, the suit was
the same, and she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

The train, however, was different. Through
the weather frosted pane she could barely hear the dull
tick,
tick, tick
of the wheels on the metal track as the engine
circled, pulling behind it a line of colorfully decorated cars.
But, if she concentrated hard and listened closely, it was
definitely there.

Tick, tick, tick, swish…

Tick, tick, tick, swish…

And then the faint whistle…

Tick, tick, tick, swish…

In those sounds she found some minor bit of
comfort—not exactly from what she was hearing really, but from the
pleasant remembrance the rhythmic noise brought rushing back into
her head. The vivid memory of standing here with Daddy for what
seemed like hours last Christmas season, watching the train,
pointing out the various miniature scenes, and grinning so hard
that it made her face hurt.

Happiness and joy…

But the comfort of the memory didn’t stay
with her for very long. Last Christmas was forever ago, and now
things were all different and messed up. Yes, the train still
chugged around the track, just as it had done then. The tiny
caroler figurines were still “singing” in front of the tiny plastic
church, just as they had done then. The brightly colored lights
strung around the display still winked off and on, just as they had
done then.

But that was then.

Now everything was changed. Merrie’s face
hurt but she already knew that this time it wasn’t because she was
grinning. She was no longer able to feel those things called
happiness and joy. She could only feel the darkness and the
pain.

She swallowed hard and blinked. When she
looked again her eyes focused on her own reflection in the glass.
It came as no surprise that the face staring back at her wore a
deep frown. After what had happened today, she wasn’t so sure she
would ever smile again.

A lick of icy wind weaved its way through the
bustle of people moving along the sidewalk behind them, and it blew
hard against her back. She watched the reflection as her hair
whipped around her head, a shock of it eventually coming to rest
across her face and blocking her tired eyes. She brushed it away
with the back of her hand, and then purely out of habit she reached
down as she momentarily hiked up her leg and proceeded to adjust
her sagging knee sock. The thin cotton did little to protect her
against the cold, but right now she really didn’t care.

Still quietly staring into the window she
pulled her free hand back inside the arm of her coat and clenched
her fist hard. Her fingernails dug into her palm, and as she felt
the sting she winced and then relaxed her fingers. She had thought
the pain helped earlier, but now she wasn’t so sure. It didn’t make
anything go away this time. It was just more pain on top of what
was already there. Maybe there was nothing at all that could help
her.

Maybe this really was all her fault. Maybe
God was punishing her for something. That’s what Sister Conran
would say. “God punishes bad girls.” She had heard those words more
than once from the nun, but they had never really applied to her.
That is, maybe until now.

Merrie just wished God would tell her what
she had done wrong, so she could confess her sin and be sorry. She
would say
Hail Marys
and
Our Fathers
until she lost
her voice if it would make all of this go away and keep her from
going to Hell.

She didn’t want to go to Hell. She felt like
she was already there anyway, and that was bad enough. If Hell
really was worse than this, she didn’t want any part of it.

Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted a
moment later when she felt a furious tugging at her other arm. The
constant pull was soon joined by seemingly desperate words
screeching into her ears.

“Mare-reee…” Becca pleaded. “C’mon, Merrie…
C’mon… I doan wanna lookit the train no more… I wanna see Santa
now.”

“Okay, okay,” Merrie mumbled, giving in and
allowing her sister to drag her toward the door. “But we have to be
quick. Okay? Mom will be waiting.”

Becca began chanting, “Santa Claus is coming…
He knows you’re naughty… Santa Claus is coming… He knows you’re
‘wake… Santa Claus is…”

“Don’t sing, Becca, okay?” Merrie
grumbled.

The request fell on all but deaf ears, not
that it really mattered. Her younger sister was too overwhelmed
with excitement, and she couldn’t stop singing even if she
tried.

Still holding on to Becca’s hand, Merrie
reached out and tugged the door open. The bell at the top jangled,
then her ears were filled with voices, holiday music, the swishing
and ticking of the model train, and all of the other sounds that
came with a busy store at Christmas. But as loudly as they echoed
inside her head, they couldn’t push away
his
voice. It was
louder still.

“…
You don’t want to make me
kill your parents, right? Promise you won’t tell…”

Immediately following the wall of noise came
a blast of warm air rushing outward into her face. It was
comfortable and stuffy at the same time. Chasing away the chill of
winter, but also stale and thick in a way that made it hard to
breathe. Like the sounds, it too was filled with way too many
things—

The sweet smells of candies, and the buttery
aroma of popcorn…

The spiciness of candles and perfumes…

Of fruitcake…

The chemically sharpness of flocking…

Of plastic trees…

And even the smell of the people
shopping…

Floating in between like some kind of
invisible glue holding the odors together, was a weird, pretend
Christmas tree scent. The kind that came in a spray can and made
everything smell like the pine sawdust the janitor always used
whenever someone puked on the floor at school.

School…

The janitor’s closet…

The piney stink was just another reminder
that Merrie really didn’t need right now. Her stomach felt like it
flip-flopped and her mouth started to water. She paused, holding
the door open as the fear began chewing its way through her insides
all over again.

However, Becca wasn’t going to wait.

Still set on her single-minded mission, the
five-year-old stomped forward toward the threshold. When she could
go no farther because of Merrie’s grip on her hand, she stopped
chanting her joyful tune and began tugging hard on her sister’s
arm. “C’mon, Mare-reee… C’mon…”

Merrie gave in and plodded slowly through the
doorway and into the store, even though the panic in her chest made
her want to turn around and run away as fast and as far as she
could. Even worse, the feeling was getting stronger with each step,
and before they had even made their way past the checkout stand she
found herself once again trying to reason out a deal with her
younger sibling in order to escape the horror of facing anyone in a
red suit, even if it really was just Mister Babbs behind the beard,
just like he always was at Christmas.