Snow(27)

“You’re right,” Fred agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

Todd shook his head. “No. I can do it. Stay here with the girls.”

“Shit,” Kate said. “That sounds absolutely high class, Todd.”

“I don’t care. We’re not gonna squabble about women’s lib right now, Kate, okay?” He was already shucking off his coat and cuffing his sleeves. “I’m gonna need a screwdriver to get this grate off.”

“Check,” Nan said, hopping off the Coke cases and dodging down one of the aisles.

“I’ll go with you,” Kate said, pulling off her own coat now.

“Not a chance. I can do this.”

“What, do you think you’re suddenly on Survivor or something?” Kate said, pulling back her hair. “Didn’t we already have the ‘nobody goes off alone’ talk, buddy? Or do you need a refresher?”

“Here you go,” Nan said, handing Todd a screwdriver.

Todd climbed back up on the stack of soda cases and began unscrewing the ventilation grate.

“I can bitch and moan with the best of them,” Kate said, her arms now folded obstinately across her chest.

“Fine, fine. We’ll go together. Now grab something we can use as a weapon.”


With the vent cover off, the ventilation shaft looked smaller than Todd had originally thought. Standing on the cases of soda and peering into the opening, he could see that it cut sharply to the right. It would be a narrow squeeze. Although he wasn’t claustrophobic by nature, the idea of getting stuck in there suddenly terrified him.

He thought of Justin fast asleep in his race-car bed, the flannel blankets tucked securely under his chin. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was only ten minutes past midnight. With some uncertain emotions, he wondered if Brianna was still up waiting for him.

Kate and Nan returned with armfuls of supplies: plastic bags, rope, broom handles, two more flashlights, and a couple of long, serrated kitchen knives. Shawna hobbled over and handed Kate a pair of makeshift sheaths for the knives, made out of Bubble Wrap and electrical tape. “Stick ’em to your belt,” Shawna explained, “and those knives will slide in and out.”

“We’re like a couple of accidental warriors,” Kate replied, trying hard to sound upbeat.

“Use this so you won’t break your neck, Todd,” Fred said, carrying over a four-foot stepladder. “Those cases of Coke are starting to buckle.”

Todd nodded and clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder. A brief father-and-son moment passed between the two men. Then they both became embarrassed and the moment was gone. Men are often their own worst enemies, Todd thought, setting up the stepladder beneath the ventilation opening.

“You sure you guys don’t want to take the rifle?” Fred asked.

“No. You hold on to it. We’re breaking into a gun store; we’ll have all we need right at our fingertips.”

“Just be careful, Todd.”

Again, Todd nodded.

“Look.” It was Nan, standing in the center of the store, looking out the plate-glass windows. Fresh snow was falling outside.

“I used to think that was so beautiful,” Shawna said. The saccharine tone of her voice sounded very unlike her. “But now I find myself distrusting it all.” She shot a worried look over at Todd. “That could be them. They’re the snow.”

Kate took a deep breath and moved one step closer to Todd. Instinct kicking in, Todd nearly reached out and took her hand, just barely catching himself at the last possible moment. Instead, he offered her a wan smile, which she returned with equal enthusiasm.

“Merry Christmas,” he said. “It’s after midnight.”

“It seems like we’ve been here a week already.”

“You ready to do this?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Let’s move.”





CHAPTER TEN



A serrated steak knife affixed to his belt in its Bubble Wrap scabbard, Todd climbed the stepladder and hoisted himself up into the ventilation shaft. His legs kicked out behind him and it required much more strength than he had expected to drag himself forward those first few feet. The shaft itself was about as wide as a coffin—and the comparison did very little to settle Todd’s nerves. His breath reverberated off the aluminum, echoing back into his ears.

He crawled a few feet farther, then paused while he listened to Kate follow him inside. She was a tough chick, Kate Jansen, although he knew there was a softer, more emotional side beneath the surface of her tough, self-reliant exterior. He had caught brief glimpses of it this evening, particularly out by the bronze statue when they’d first come across what looked like the guts of some large animal—or possibly a human being—strewn about in the snow. She was similar to Brianna that way. But of course, just look how all that had turned out.

The divorce wasn’t Brianna’s fault, he thought now, breathing warmth into his cupped hands, his shoulders pressing against the ceiling of the shaft. Brianna wasn’t the one with the problem. I can spend the rest of my life blaming her and hating her, but that won’t change the truth. And it won’t fix the future.

“Okay,” Kate whispered behind him, her voice echoing up through the aluminum chamber. “I’m good.”