Winter Chill (17 page)

CHAPTER 21

“Don’t forget now. Tell me everything that happens.” Cliff walked with her as far as the landing. “I’ll be waiting for you at the lockers.”

Connie felt very alone as she went down the stairs into the elementary wing. She was a little nervous. What she had promised to do felt almost disloyal. Still, it couldn‘t hurt anything if Mrs. Larsen was innocent. After Cliff dropped her at home last night, Connie had thought about it. Reluctantly, she had reached a decision. And now here she was, standing in front of Mrs. Larsen’s door, prepared to spy on a teacher she liked and respected.

“Here’s Connie!” Ricky Owens pulled at Marian’s sleeve. “Can we have art class now, Mrs. Larsen?”

“Hello, Connie.” Marian turned and smiled. She was folding up squares of white paper at the front table. The children were clustered around her. There was a large six-sided figure drawn on the blackboard and several smaller, less perfect versions under it.

“We’re making snowflakes today,” Marian explained. “Who can tell Connie how many sides a snowflake has?”

Several children shouted out the answer. “Six!”

“And what is a six-sided shape called?” Marian nodded to Joey Cracowski, who was waving his hand in the air.

“A hexagon!” Joey beamed proudly. “We’re making hexagons today, Connie. Mrs. Larsen’s folding the paper, and we’re gonna cut ’em out. Then we’re gonna make a mogul.”

“Mobile,” Marian corrected. “We’re going to have our own beautiful snowfall right here in the room.”

“That sounds like fun.” Connie watched as Marian folded another piece of paper. “What can I do to help, Mrs. Larsen?”

“Some of the children will need help cutting out their snowflakes. Why don’t you go to my office and get the large art scissors? They should be hanging on the board over my desk.”

Connie hurried to the small office at the rear of the room. It was a fairly recent renovation, a floor-to-ceiling partition that hid a small desk and one wall of shelves.

There was a door with a window in it. The little room could be locked during recess to keep any dangerous items away from the children. It had been one of Mr. Woodruff’s first projects when he took over the school. Connie remembered when the small office was built. It was right after Susan Rhinbolt ate a jar of paste when Miss Adams was out of the room.

Most teachers used this place for storage, and Marian was no exception. The shelves were filled with jars of tempera paint and reams of construction paper. The supply board was over the desk. It had been a gift from last year’s class, a clever idea that the children had designed. It was simply a piece of plywood painted blue, with silhouettes of supplies painted on it in red. A nail held each item in place.

The board was nearly full. There was an extra stapler, a tape dispenser, a paper punch, and several sharp X-Acto knives. The red silhouette for the large art scissors was not covered by the scissors. Connie pulled out the desk drawers and searched through them, but she couldn’t find the shears. Marian’s tote bag was sitting on top of the desk. Perhaps she had taken them home with her last night.

Connie lifted out a pile of corrected homework papers and looked under it. No scissors. She was about to put the papers back when she noticed the name on the top sheet. Laura Larsen! There was a large red A next to her name.

She was almost afraid to look at the rest of the pile. Connie took a deep breath and paged through it quickly. Becky Fischer! Jenny Powell! Mrs. Larsen had filled in all three papers and then she had graded them. Connie recognized her handwriting. She had to tell Cliff about this!

Connie straightened the pile and replaced the papers with shaking fingers. When she turned around, Mrs. Larsen was standing in back of her.

“I . . . I’m sorry, Mrs. Larsen. I can’t seem to find your scissors.” Connie pointed to the silhouette on the board. “I looked in your tote bag. I hope you don’t mind. I . . . I just thought you might have taken them home with you last night.”

“Oh, they’re around here someplace, but we don’t have time to look for them now.” Marian smiled at Connie and glanced at the clock. “Run down to Mrs. Powell’s room and borrow hers, will you, Connie?”

Connie hurried down the hall to the kindergarten room. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could barely breathe. Thank goodness Mrs. Larsen hadn’t seen her going through the homework papers!

The kindergarten was at the end of the corridor. While Mrs. Powell went to look for her scissors, Connie held up some pictures for the kids. Poor Mrs. Powell looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes. Connie didn’t think she could go on if she were Mrs. Powell. It must be terrible to suspect your child was murdered!

She didn’t think of it until she was out in the hall again, carrying the scissors carefully, point down. If Cliff was right, Mrs. Larsen had killed Jenny! How could she murder her best friend’s child!

Connie stopped and leaned against the wall. Her knees were shaking. She didn’t want to go back to the second grade. Finding those papers was creepy! Cliff just had to be wrong about Mrs. Larsen. She might be a little crazy, but she couldn’t be a killer!

Cliff was counting on her. Connie took a deep breath and started up the hall again. It was best to pretend that nothing was wrong. She had to get through the hour somehow. Then she could tell Cliff everything.

Connie spent the rest of the period helping the children cut out their snowflakes. Even Ricky Owens managed to do a good job on his. Connie thought they all looked very nice when they were done. Mrs. Larsen might be crazy, but she was still a good teacher. Her class would never forget the definition of
hexagon.

“We’ll put them up tomorrow.” Marian stacked the huge snowflakes in a pile on the table. “You’ll help us, won’t you, Connie? I think they’ll look wonderful hanging in front of the window.”

Marian walked Connie to the door. “Would you stop at the office and ask Mary if she has some fish line? The shop class is sending us a dowel for each window.”

“Yes, Mrs. Larsen.” Connie managed a smile. “That art project was really a math lesson, wasn’t it?”

“In a way.” Marian smiled back. “Learning is fun, and children remember when they take an active part. I used to cut out colored squares and triangles and pentagons when Laura was quite young. She still remembers. Laura knows all of her shapes now.”

Connie couldn’t help it. She shivered slightly. Mrs. Larsen talked as if Laura were still alive!

“You’d better hurry, Connie. There goes the bell. Drop the scissors off at the kindergarten, and don’t forget to tell Mary about the fish line.”

 

 

“It could have been a slip of the tongue.” Cliff frowned slightly as they leaned against the lockers. “Tell me about those homework papers again. Are you sure they weren’t old ones?”

“I’m positive.” Connie opened her locker and took out her chemistry book. Her hands were still shaking. “I passed out those papers myself. I know they’re not old.”

“It’s just like the coach said.” Cliff stared at Connie as she dropped her book. Her hands were shaking, and she looked scared to death. He put his arm around her and hugged her hard. “Let’s cut the next class, Connie. We’ll catch Mr. Larsen in his office. I think we’d better tell him about this right away.”

 

 

“Oh, Connie’s just wonderful with the kids.” Marian poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Sally. “How’s Dianne Jacobs doing in your room?”

“I think she belongs with an older group.” Sally sighed deeply. “You’re really lucky having Connie. She’s going to make a fine teacher someday.”

“Why don’t we work out an exchange?” Marian paused thoughtfully. “I could send Connie to your room on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And I’d take Dianne. I’ll talk to Connie tomorrow and see what she thinks.”

“Great idea! I really like Connie.”

“I do too.” Marian drank the rest of her coffee and headed for the door. “She seemed a little nervous today, but I heard they’re having a big test in algebra. That must have been it. Well, back to the salt mines. Only an hour to go.”

“It’s okay with my parents.” Connie hung up the phone and picked up her books. “They said to bring you home with me for supper. I told them we were going to the library to study.”

“I don’t like missing hockey practice, but this is more important. Mr. Larsen wants us to check the area at the top of Heidelberg Hill.”

The wind was blowing, and Connie zipped her long parka and put up the hood. Cliff drove in as far as he could, and they left the van next to the pond.

“Sheriff Bates searched here already.” Connie tramped through the snow, holding Cliff’s gloved hand. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything, Cliff.”

“He might have missed something. It can’t hurt to look. Let’s climb the path and split up at the top. You check one side, and I’ll check the other.”

Connie frowned, but she didn’t say anything. She really didn’t want to be in the woods at all, but Cliff thought it was important. She could feel her knees shaking, and it had nothing to do with the cold. It felt creepy up here, knowing what had happened. She wouldn’t come up here at night for anything in the world!

“Hey, Connie. Would you rather stick together?” Cliff glanced down at her worried face.

“Uh . . . yes. I guess I’m a little nervous, Cliff.”

Cliff held Connie’s hand a little tighter. He knew exactly how she felt. It grew darker the higher they climbed. The big pine trees blocked out the winter sun, and the woods were caught in a sort of perpetual twilight. It was quiet up here. They were all alone. Their boots crunched on the crust of the snow, and the snapping of the twigs underfoot was loud in the stillness.

They were near the top of the hill when Connie slipped. Cliff caught her with his good arm, and she laughed nervously.

“New boots,” she explained. “They’re still slick on the bottom.”

Cliff bent over to look at the snow. “No, you slipped on something. See? It’s a glove.”

Connie watched as he brushed it off. It looked like a brand-new glove.

“This couldn’t belong to Mrs. Larsen.” Cliff slipped it on. “It’s big enough to fit me. See if you can find the other one.”

Connie kicked at the snow with the toe of her boots. They managed to clear a big area, but nothing turned up.

“Somebody has one cold hand.” Cliff shrugged. He turned the glove over and examined the lining. “Brooks Brothers? That’s expensive, Connie. I bet somebody’s upset about losing it.”

“Cliff? You don’t think it has anything to do with . . . with Jenny, do you?”

“I doubt it.” Cliff ran his fingers over the soft fur inside. “Come on, Connie. We might as well take this glove with us. We’ll give it to Mr. Larsen tomorrow, and he can put it in the lost and found. If we’d found both of them, I’d be tempted to keep them. Just feel that lining!”

They were chilled by the time they got back to the van. Cliff dropped the glove behind the seat and turned on the heater full blast.

“We’ll stop by my house for a second. I’ll give the coach a quick call and tell him what we found. Then we’d better get over to your parents’. I sure hope your mom’s making meat loaf for supper.”

CHAPTER 22

Dan leaned back against the pillows and stared at the book that was open on his lap. He really should work up a lecture on the Spanish Civil War, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on his material. Maybe he could show a slide of
Guernica
and spend the whole period discussing it. The kids would enjoy that, and they’d be learning painlessly.

After a few more moments of staring at the page, Dan closed his book. It was no use trying to read. All he could think about was Cliff and Connie, and what they’d discovered today. Marian was bringing home class work for Laura and her dead friends. Connie said Marian filled in the answers and then graded the papers with the rest of the class. That ought to be proof that she was insane. Now, if they’d only find something on Heidelberg Hill . . .

The phone rang, and Dan reached over to answer it.

“Mr. Larsen? It’s Cliff. Connie and I found a glove on the hill. It’s black with mink lining. And it says Brooks Brothers on the label.”

His glove! Marian must have worn his new gloves when she killed Jenny!

Dan gripped the phone tightly. “Bring it to school tomorrow and I’ll . . .”

He stopped suddenly. Marian was standing in the doorway!

“I’ll take care of it then. Nice of you to call, Cliff. I’m sure those hockey plays will be helpful. Marian’s here now. I’ve got to run.”

“More hockey plays?” Marian shook her head and smiled. “I swear, that’s all Cliff thinks about. Are you hungry, Dan? I’ve got some chicken to fry.”

She left him alone while she fried the chicken. Dan stealthily dialed Cliff’s number, but no one was home. If he could walk, he’d go out and caution them. They shouldn’t say anything about the glove. It was very important to keep it a secret until he had enough facts to incriminate Marian. If Marian heard they’d found it, she’d know he was spying on her!

Dan managed to make polite conversation through dinner, even though his mind was miles away. His glove! There had to be a reason. Was it easier to break Jenny’s neck with his heavy gloves? Or did Marian take them simply because they were warmer than hers?

She was doing the dishes now. He heard the water spraying from the faucet as she rinsed them. Those little homey sounds were suddenly chilling. His wife was a murderer masquerading as an excellent cook and homemaker.

“Dan?” Marian stood in the doorway. “I have to run to the store before it closes. We’re completely out of coffee.”

“Fine.” He smiled at her absentmindedly. Then his expression sobered abruptly as he heard the front door close behind her. He could have been smiling at Jenny’s killer just then. The thought made him shudder. At least there hadn’t been any more murders, but he was still uneasy. The wind howled past the window, and Marian was out there somewhere, alone.

At least it was a miserable night. Dan relaxed slightly. There would be no one out tonight. Perhaps there was no need to worry. Marian would just run to the store and come right home. She couldn’t very well kill anyone standing in line at the Red Owl! Also, so far she’d murdered only Laura’s friends.

Dan’s eyes closed, and he settled back against the pillows. Maybe he’d take a little nap until Marian got home. He really didn’t have to worry tonight. Nothing was going to happen.

 

 

“How did you manage to get out of the house?” Cliff opened the door of the van for her. “I thought your mother was going to make you stay home.”

“She was.” Connie grinned at him. “I told her the truth. I said we wanted to find somewhere to park and do illicit and immoral things to each other. She told me to stop kidding and be home at ten thirty.”

Cliff shook his head and grinned. Thanks to Connie, they had three precious hours together. And she hadn’t even lied about it to her mother.

The streets were icy, and Cliff put the van in low gear to drive up the hill by the Congregational church. Flurries of snow whipped against the window, and Connie shivered. They were in for another two inches, at least. Maybe school would be closed tomorrow if the weather got worse. That thought did nothing to dampen Connie’s spirits.

She reached over to snap on the radio. Cliff could get only one station, KTIG in Pequot Lakes. It was a religious station that went off the air at ten, but at least they had the news and weather.

“Time is eight-oh-four, temperature minus twelve on the KTIG thermometer. Wind chill brings that down to a frigid thirty-two below. Some roads are closed due to blowing snow, and travelers’ advisories are in effect. Now some heartwarming music from the Christian Gospel Singers. . . .”

Connie reached out and turned the knob. She wasn’t in the mood for gospel music. She wished Cliff would hurry and install the new radio his parents had given him for Christmas. Then they could listen to anything they wanted.

“We’ve got the whole place to ourselves again tonight.” Cliff turned the van around and backed into the corrugated garage the church still owned. There had been a church bus once, but now it was gone. The garage had been empty for the past three years. “It’s nasty out there. Listen to that wind.”

“But it’s nice in here.” Connie gave him a quick kiss. “I guess I’d better set my alarm watch again. My mother’s in a good mood, and I don’t want to spoil it by getting home late.”

It was their own private world in here. Connie turned on the dash lights and set her alarm. They were alone at last. The heater made a comfortable hissing sound, and she smiled as she slipped between the seats and climbed in the back. This was exactly where she wanted to be. Sometimes she wished she could stay with Cliff like this forever.

“Can we leave the heater on?” The air was cold on her bare arms as she took off her blouse. “It gets cold in here so fast, Cliff.”

“You won’t need the heater in a minute.” Cliff laughed and shut off the engine. “I’ve got a new way to keep you warm tonight.”

He did. Connie smiled in the darkness as his body covered hers. She was really warm now. Actually, she was hot, hot and ready for whatever he had on his mind.

“Oh, Cliff! What are you doing?” She giggled as he repositioned himself. Then she didn’t have to ask anymore, and it was wonderful.

Later, she sat up with the blanket around her. “Listen to the wind blow, Cliff. It makes me feel cozy in here with you.”

They were silent for a long moment, listening. Cliff touched her face. “Let’s snuggle for a while, Connie. I’m really beat. I didn’t get much sleep last night, thinking about what Mr. Larsen told me.”

“Me neither.”

Connie slid down beside him and gave a sigh of pure contentment. Her back was toward Cliff, and his body curved around hers. They fitted together like two spoons in a drawer. Connie smiled at the thought.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Just stay like that, Connie.”

“I don’t think . . . oh!” She gave a startled gasp as her doubts vanished. It just went to prove that anything was possible if you wanted it badly enough.

She must have dozed for a moment. When Connie woke up, the van was cold. Even the blanket couldn’t keep out the chill. Cliff was sound asleep, and she rolled off the mattress carefully, trying not to wake him. She’d let him sleep until her alarm went off.

The parka was cold against her bare skin. Connie almost gasped out loud as she slipped it on. She crawled in the front seat and braced herself for the unpleasant shock as she sat down on the icy vinyl.

The key was in the ignition, and the van started with no trouble. Connie revved the motor a couple of times and turned the heater up as high as it would go. A blast of warm air started to blow out of the vents almost immediately. Cliff’s van was old, but it had a good heater.

Connie turned around to look in the back. Cliff was still sleeping. Not even the sound of the motor had awakened him. The windshield was steamed up, and she used the sleeve of her parka to wipe a clear spot. The wind was stronger now, and gusts of snow blew across the open garage door. If the radio was right, they wouldn’t have school tomorrow. Then she could sleep in late.

Connie lifted her feet and propped them up right in front of the heater vent. Now her toes were toasty warm. She sat that way for a while, watching the snow flurries. She was almost ready to crawl in the back again. Now she was warm, and she missed Cliff.

She really should turn off the ignition and crawl back under the blankets with Cliff for the little time they had left together.

She hesitated as she reached for the key. She didn’t want to shut off the heater. Then she’d be cold again, and soon it would be time to get dressed. There was nothing worse than dressing in the cold. Why turn it off! She wasn’t going to go back to sleep. It would be perfectly safe to leave the van running for a little while. The garage door was wide open.

Cliff pulled her close as she got back under the blanket. She snuggled up to him and fitted her body to his. He was still sleeping, but he held her tightly. It made Connie feel safe to have him hold her like this.

She tried to keep her eyes open, but they fluttered closed a couple of times. It was warm inside the van now, and she yawned in contentment. Her head rested against Cliff’s chest. She could hear his heart beating. Soon they wouldn’t have to sneak around and sleep in the back of the van. When they started college, they could get an apartment and be together like this every night.

The soft sound of Cliff’s breathing was rhythmic and deep. She felt herself falling into the same regular pattern, breathing the same air he was breathing, matching breath to sleepy breath. She was almost asleep when she thought she heard a noise. It sounded like heavy metal scraping and sliding. Connie’s eyes closed, and she smiled slightly. She must be dreaming. She cuddled a little closer to Cliff and went back to sleep.

Cliff woke up once, and his head felt strange. The van was running, the heater going full blast. Connie must have gotten up and turned it on. He tried to sit up, but it was too much of an effort. The wind had died down now. It was still and quiet in the garage. Connie was sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t want to risk waking her. They’d have to get up in a few minutes, anyhow.

Cliff’s muscles felt like water, but he managed to raise his arm somehow and drape it over Connie’s naked back. He loved her so much. His lips touched the warmth of her shoulder. There was just a moment, near the end, when his mind gave a dim warning. It was much too dark in the garage. The streetlight had been shining through the open door, but now it was pitch-black. There was something wrong. The garage door was closed. He had to get up and shut off the engine. He’d just close his eyes a minute and gather his strength for the effort. He was much too tired to move right now.

An hour later the engine coughed and died. The cold began to creep into the cracks of the windows, and the temperature lowered. The wind picked up velocity and whistled past the metal sides of the garage, rocking it slightly. Snow pelted against the closed door, and the hasp froze shut. The temperature dropped, and soon the inside of the van was frigid. Connie’s Christmas watch glowed softly in the dark as the minutes clicked off. Ten eleven. Ten twelve. Ten thirteen. Ten fourteen. At last the time set matched the time on the display, and the watch started to beep. It made a rhythmic electronic sound over and over in the icy darkness. But there was no one to hear.