“Damn,” Skip muttered aloud then shook his head. He clicked the ignition to off and pulled out the key.
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.