Due or Die (15 page)

“Excellent,” Nancy said. “I hope she has news.”

Beth came in on a blast of arctic air. It took both her and Lindsey to shut the door against the incoming wind.

As Beth unwrapped her head, she took the cup of coffee Charlie offered with a grateful smile. “Hot coffee? It’s a miracle!”

“Where have you been? Why haven’t you answered your phone? Is your place okay? Where did you get that ride?” Lindsey peppered her with questions.

Beth held up her hand and took a long sip of the hot java. “Okay, I think I can feel my feet again. Let’s see, to start with, I’ve been mostly at home, but I just took a quick tour of town, the battery on my phone is dead, my house is fine, so far, and the snowmobile is my neighbor’s, but he’s too old to ride it so he lent it to me.”

“Is it totally fun?” Charlie asked.

“Totally,” she assured him. They pounded knuckles and Lindsey rolled her eyes. There were times she was pretty sure Beth was a twelve-year-old boy trapped in a thirty-two-year-old woman’s body.

“So, tell us,” Nancy said as she pulled Beth into her apartment and pushed her into a chair by the fire. “What’s it look like out there?”

Beth sobered immediately. “It’s bad. The drifts are already six feet high and getting higher. You can’t even tell what’s buried under them. The waves crested with the high tide, and Jeanette Palmer’s Beachfront Bed and Breakfast took a pounding. I think the only thing that saved her from losing her back porch to the sea was Ian Murphy and Sully spent most of last night hauling in sandbags from the highway department.”

“Is Jeanette okay?” Nancy asked.

“She’s fine,” Beth said. “The B and B was open today for business, and she was out sweeping her front steps when I stopped to check on her. She says this storm is nothing compared to the ones in ’52 and ’78.”

“It’s not over yet,” Nancy said, looking out the large bay window where the snow continued to fall.

“Which reminds me,” Charlie said. “I’m going to get out there and start shoveling before it gets too deep.”

“I’ll
just call a snow plow,” Nancy said. “You don’t have to go out in this.”

Beth shook her head. “There isn’t a plow available. They’ve all been called out to do the roads. They’re hoping to get them at least partially dug out before the second half of the blizzard hits.”

“Is the library okay?” Lindsey asked.

Beth smiled at her. “That’s the first place I checked. The drifts are halfway up to the front door, but otherwise the building looks fine.”

Lindsey felt her shoulders lower in relief. She hadn’t realized she was so worried until Beth assured her that all was well.

“Can you give me a lift over there?” Lindsey asked. “I think I’d better start digging the building out. The town’s maintenance crew has enough to do and I don’t want it to get even worse.”

Nancy looked as if she would protest, but Lindsey held up her hand. “Unless you’re going to offer to loan me a snow shovel, don’t bother.”

Nancy blew out her lips in an exasperated puff. “They’re in the garage. Help yourself. But if the weather turns, get back here immediately, and take your cell phone with you.”

“I can…” Carrie began but Nancy cut her off.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You can’t fit more than two people on that contraption, and besides, I need to teach you how to crochet. It will give me something to do besides fret.”

“Thanks anyway,” Lindsey said to Carrie, who shrugged.

Lindsey was glad Nancy had put the kibosh on Carrie going out in this weather. Carrie looked as pale as the snow
drifts that surrounded the house, and Lindsey really didn’t think she had the stamina to be out in the cold.

“I’ll just go suit up,” Lindsey said and she darted up the stairs to her apartment. Heathcliff wanted to come with her, but she distracted him by throwing his chew toy to Beth, who began to play tug-of-war with him.

She didn’t want the young puppy out in this weather. There was no knowing when the storm would turn, and the thought of losing him in one of the drifts made her positively queasy.

Lindsey bounded back downstairs wearing her blue ski suit. It was not quite the neon pink of Beth’s, but at least she wouldn’t be confused with a snow drift either.

Charlie was already digging out the front porch and the driveway. He was as bundled as the Michelin tire man, leaving only his eyes visible above the scarf he’d wrapped around his face.

Lindsey borrowed two shovels and tucked them under one arm. When she climbed onto the snowmobile behind Beth, she looped her free arm about Beth’s waist. They both wore their ski goggles, and despite the bitter wind and pelting snow, Lindsey felt fairly warm with all of her gear on.

Beth revved the engine and they shot out over the snow and headed toward town. It took all of Lindsey’s coordination to hang on to the shovels and Beth. Although, she was driving carefully, not knowing what lay under the drifts, it was still a bouncy ride as she swerved to avoid dangerous bumps, and the visibility was poor as the snow continued to fall, and the sun’s light was a hazy gray at best as it tried to burn its way through the clouds.

Lindsey glanced up when they got closer to town. Roofs
had several feet of snow on them, the trees bowed to the ground under the weight of the snow on their branches, cars were abandoned all over the road and the eerie sight of absolutely no one moving about town gave Lindsey a creepy chill up her spine.

Beth pulled onto the side lot of the library and cut the engine. They both climbed off and Lindsey had to straighten out the cramps in her knees. She hadn’t realized she’d been clenching them so tightly around the seat.

“Where should we start?” Beth asked. Her voice was muffled because of her scarf.

“Let’s start at the front,” Lindsey said. “We can dig the back door out later if we have time.”

She handed Beth a shovel, and together they began to attack the four-foot drift of snow that pressed against the glass doors to the library. Lindsey wondered how much snow it would take to bust open the doors. She was hoping she didn’t find out.

It was excruciatingly boring work. Because the walkway was so full of snow, they had to start at the curb and work their way toward the stairs to the doors. Lindsey had intended to dig out the entire building, but after an hour and a half, they had just finished the steps and were beginning to get to the drift against the doors, and she realized once they were done with that, she was done.

She was pushing her shovel into the meaty part of the drift when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Beth pointed with her glove at a person coming their way. The person was unrecognizable as they, too, wore a snowsuit. They had snowshoes on their feet and were making good time as they came toward the library.

“Who is it?” she asked Beth.

Beth shook her head.

As the person got near, they went right past Lindsey and Beth to the book drop. It was then that Lindsey noticed the backpack that they wore. The person swung the backpack off their shoulders and opened the book drop and began unloading a pile of books into the drop.

“Really?” Beth asked Lindsey. “A nor’easter is happening and this person snowshoed to the library?”

The person turned around and lowered their scarf. It was then that Lindsey recognized Javier Ramirez. He was a middle-aged man, married, with kids, who worked in a neighboring town as a teacher. He was a big fan of Clive Cussler and Tom Clancy.

“There,” he said. “My books were due today and I returned them today.”

“Thank you, but that really wasn’t necessary, Mr. Ramirez,” Lindsey said. “The library is closed.”

He waved his hand at her as if to say that was incidental. “You two are my witnesses. You tell that mean old Ms. Cole that Javier Ramirez returned his books on time. I don’t want to get any fines from that one. Last time she made my wife cry.”

Lindsey sighed. The lemon had obviously struck again.

“If Ms. Cole ever treats you or your family in a way that is unprofessional again, please tell me,” Lindsey said. “You’re a good patron and I won’t have that.”

“I am a good patron,” he said. “I returned my stuff on time. Remember that.”

With that, he set off back across the drifts toward home.

Lindsey and Beth exchanged a look. Then Lindsey
started to laugh and so did Beth. It may have been a fit of giggles or a small bout of hysterics due to the stress of the storm, it was hard to say. But Lindsey felt better afterward, and digging out the rest of the drift seemed to go faster.

Lindsey was eyeballing the last pile. It was pushed up against the door like a sleepy cat that had no intention of being moved from its favorite chair. Lindsey could feel the ache in her shoulders beginning to throb all the way down her arms.

She glanced at Beth. She was moving slower, too, and her breath was coming out in exhausted white puffs.

“I’ve heard about dedicated employees, but this is above and beyond the call of duty.”

Lindsey glanced around to see a person on cross-country skis approaching.

She recognized the plaid scarf immediately. It was Edmund. He used his poles to stop beside her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I came out to survey the damage and pick up a few things for my uncle.”

Lindsey took in his puffy jacket. It must have been quite a trek because his jacket was showing serious signs of distress. She had never seen either Bill or Edmund look less than impeccable, so it was a surprise to see a tear and several streaks of dirt mar his appearance.

He must have seen her look, because he brushed at the dirt and said, “I had a heck of a time getting these skis out of the storage shed. Even though we knew it was coming, we weren’t quite prepared for a storm like this.”

He used the tip of his pole to pop the latch on his ski and took out first one foot and then the other.

“I
know what you mean,” Lindsey said. She glanced around the town buried in the white stuff. “I don’t think anyone saw this coming.”

Edmund propped his poles and skis against the wall and approached Beth. He took the shovel from her hands and gestured for her to go stand with Lindsey. He then began to dig out the last of the huge drift.

When Lindsey went to help him, he waved her away.

“No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. “You catch your breath.”

Lindsey was too tired to argue.

“Isn’t he nice?” Beth asked as Edmund shoveled twice as fast as they’d be able to.

“He really is,” Lindsey agreed. “He must take after his mother’s side.”

Beth laughed. “He’s certainly a refreshing change from surly Uncle Bill.”

Edmund finished in just minutes and joined them by the curb. He handed Lindsey the shovel.

“Thank you,” she said. “Your timing was perfect.”

“Yeah, I think my arms were about to give out,” Beth said.

He grinned at them and then popped his skis back on.

“Well, I’d better get back to Uncle Bill before he gets testy,” he said. “He doesn’t like to be alone in this weather. I think it makes him feel vulnerable.”

“Yeah, we should get back, too,” Lindsey said.

There was an awkward pause. Beth glanced between them and then took the shovels and headed for the snowmobile.

The sparkle left Edmund’s eyes as he studied Lindsey with a frown. “I don’t
like the thought of you out in this storm; promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” she said. “You, too.”

“Oh, I will,” he said. Then he grinned as if pleased with her concern. “I have a lunch date that I’m looking forward to.”

Lindsey waved as he pushed off into the snow. When she joined Beth, her friend looked at her and asked, “Okay, now what?”

Lindsey glanced around the snow-blanketed town. The only place showing any sort of life was the Blue Anchor. Several plow trucks were parked in front of it, and a plume of smoke was rising from its chimney.

“How about a hot toddy at the Anchor?” she asked. “My treat.”

“Get on,” Beth said. “And you’ll notice I’m not even teasing you about Edmund and his obvious crush on you.”

“We’re in our thirties; we don’t have crushes,” Lindsey said.

“Speak for yourself,” Beth argued. “And you’re full of baloney; otherwise, why does your face get red every time you see Sully?”

“It does not!”

“Oh, please, you’re a regular hothouse tomato when he comes around.”

“Just drive!” Lindsey assumed her previous position and Beth shot them across the street, through the park and into the semiplowed lot of the local watering hole.

Not wanting to lose Nancy’s shovels, Lindsey handed one to Beth and gestured that they were to take them into the restaurant with them.

As they lumbered into the room, Ian Murphy, the owner, piped up, “Lindsey and Beth, is that you? Are you here to fatten up your skinny dates with some shepherd’s pie?”

All the heads in the bar swiveled in their direction, and chuckles broke up the room as the two women hugged their shovels close in a mock embrace before leaning them against the wall by the door.

Lindsey pulled off her goggles and scarf and teased in return, “Eh, I’m afraid I’m going to have to dump him. His personality is too wooden.”

Always appreciative of a good pun, Ian slapped down his bar rag and laughed. “Get in here, you two, and sit down. We don’t have any power, but I can offer you a nice shot of brandy to warm you up, and we’ve got the woodstove doing triple-time over there. Mary’s cooking up ham and potatoes on it.”

Lindsey glanced over to the corner of the room, where the woodstove, which was used more often as a decoration than a stove, was in full use. Ian’s wife, Mary, a member of their crafternoon club, was standing over the stove and stirring something in a cast iron pot that made Lindsey’s mouth begin to water.

“I’m in,” Beth said, and she hurried over to the warmth of the stove. Lindsey was right behind her.

“You look frozen,” Mary said when she saw them.

Several of the men who had been sitting by the stove rose to offer them their seats.

“Oh, no, we’re fine,” Lindsey said. She had a feeling these men had been working all night to plow the town out. They had to be exhausted and she didn’t want to take their seats.