A Snow Covered Nightmare: Refuge Series Book Two by Debbie Zello (2)

Chapter Two

The annoying ring from her cellphone woke her. “Why didn’t I turn that damn thing off?” she moaned. Looking at the alarm clock, she saw it was four o’clock. She should get up anyway or she’d never want to go to bed tonight.

She sat up and unwound the towel from her hair. Looking in the mirror opposite the bed, she thought her hair resembled something from the ‘Bride of Frankenstein.’ With the phone ringing again, she swung her legs out from under the covers and walked to her purse. “Hello.”

“Miss Spencer, this is detective Aiden Baldwin; we met yesterday.”

“Yes, detective, I remember you, vividly.”

“That’s nice to hear. Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but it is just as well. I don’t want my internal clock to be all messed up. I have to go to work…Oh my God! I don’t have a job anymore. How the hell am I going to pay my rent?” she said horrified.

“That’s one of the reasons for my call. We have a victim’s advocacy fund set up. It helps people with expenses that occur because of a crime. You being out of a job because of a crime, falls into that category.

“I just need you to bring your bills or copies of checks down to the station and we’ll cut you a check for food, rent and utilities. We’ll cover two months. That gives you some time to find new employment.”

“What do I do about a reference?”

“Good question. We can write that you lost your job through no fault of yours. You’ll be surprised what a letter from us might do,” he said cockily.

“I’m sure everyone wants to hire someone that comes with a letter from the police. I know I would,” she replied.

“I see your point. I also wanted to ask you if you remembered anything else from yesterday.”

“I dreamed about it. I saw the whole thing again. But nothing new, I’m sorry to say. Have you found anything out yet?”

“The autopsy is being done as we speak. The SOB shot him directly in the groin. Perfect shot. Bad news is; he was so close that powder was all over the area. When you put your hands on him, it all transferred to you. So technically, you’re our one and only suspect.”

“Perfect. Maybe I should have asked for an attorney before questioning.”

“None of us believe you did it. But making the bad guy think that we think you did, will keep you alive while we try to find him. We’re leaking it to the media, that we have a woman under investigation, an employee.”

“Gee, thanks! I’m supposed to find a job. They’ll be so stupid they won’t guess that I’m the employee under investigation. They will just love to hire a murderer. Do you think you guys could manage to have me raped and robbed while you’re at it? I might as well have the full treatment.”

“I know how this all sounds and you’re understandably still upset. We have a grief counselor on staff. I could set up an appointment for you.”

“I can grieve on my own, thank you. What I need is a job. I don’t suppose that any of Denver’s finest has need of a secretary.”

“I’ll ask around. Try to relax today. I met his family, by the way. They’re nice people. Did you know them?”

“No, I told you I know nothing about his life. I worked for him for two years, and we never discussed anything outside of work.”

“His parents and sister stopped in to speak with us. They’re like you. They knew nothing about his work or his personal life. Just his interactions with them. It’s bizarre that he compartmentalized his whole life.”

“That is strange. Not to change the subject, but is it all right if I go skiing?”

“Yes, of course. The officer will follow you in his car. Try not to break your neck,” he said with a chuckle.

“I was an instructor all through high school and college. It’s doubtful I will break my neck,” she schooled him.

“What else don’t I know about you?”

“Lots. I’ll bring in the bills and checks tomorrow. Have a good night.”

Once she got her skis on and hit the slopes, she felt better. The fresh, cold air and flash of humanity passing soothed her. There was something calming about riding up slowly, anticipating the rush of the descent. This was her space, her chance to level out her thoughts and emotions.

Somewhere around her third run, the snow began to fall in earnest. It should be noted that it snows nearly every day around Denver, in the winter. This snow, at least in her mind, cleansed her of watching Dan die while doing nothing to save him. She came to terms with herself in knowing that she’d had no viable choice but to stay hidden in the closet. Showing herself would not have prevented anything, and would have most likely gotten her killed as well.

Briah went for her last run, and got two cups of soup to go at the snack bar inside the chalet. She walked out, balancing her skis on her shoulder, to the police car parked next to hers. She placed her skis against her car and then knocked on the window. “Hi, I brought you a cup of soup. It’s pretty cold tonight.”

“Thanks, that was very nice of you. I have two thermoses of coffee but the soup will be a welcome change. My name is Steve Carpenter, by the way.”

“Briah Spencer, but you already know that. Thanks for being my watchdog. I don’t think I need you, but it seems I’m overruled.”

“That happens. I’ve had worse assignments than this, and they didn’t bring me soup. Are you ready to go home?”

“I am. I’m going to have the hot bath and glass of wine I wanted last night. See you later!”

“Thanks again.”

Briah was sunk in the tub up to her neck in sweet-smelling bubbles. When it came to her baths, Briah was a real girl. She had to have bubbles and a pouf to scrub up more bubbles on her skin. She had a glass of red wine on the rim of the tub and soft music playing. Her hair was piled high atop her head in a messy bun.

She often thought that the world was split into two kinds of women. The kind that loved baths and the kind that didn’t. Most of the former would take a shower; the latter would never take a bath. Somehow, that didn’t seem right to her. The showerers were too judgmental when it came to the bathers.

It was after eleven when she finally crawled into bed. She felt sleep overtaking her, and she welcomed the feeling. Emotionally, she was spent, and the exercise had worked its magic on her body.

Briah felt the cold, icy hand on her arm. His breath was on her neck. She stilled, waiting for the feel of the gun or knife that he would thrust in her back. Panic overtook her, as her heart raced as quickly as her mind, trying to reason through her choices. Scream, and hope someone would hear her. Elbow him, and try to get up and run. Lay there, and let him kill her.

She went with a combination of the first two. She started to scream and threw her arm back, to nail him. She clawed her way from the bed and ran to the door, as fast as she could.

Her feet barely touched the steps, as she ran to the police car parked in front of the building. Her breath came out in plumes of mist against the frigid temperature.

Steve saw her coming and hurriedly scrambled to exit the car. “What is it?” he yelled as she ran into his arms.

Her heart was beating so hard she could barely speak. “A…man…in…my…bed. He…touched…me.”

“Get in my car, and start it to get some heat. Lock the door. I’ll be back soon,” he said as he took off running back towards the stairs. She could see him talking into his shoulder, keying the mic on his radio. She did what he’d said to do, and felt the heat on her ice-cold legs and feet.

A few minutes passed, as she watched for his return. Three police cars joined her in the parking lot. One officer staying with her, while the other two went off in the direction of her apartment. Time, for Briah, stood still.

She put her head on her hands, as they rested on the steering wheel of the car. She could still feel his hand on her arm as a frosty reminder of what she had witnessed two days before.

Steve came around the corner, walking towards her, carrying her coat and a pair of her shoes. She opened the car door as he approached the car. “Did you find him?” she asked shakily.

“No, Briah. There wasn’t anyone in your apartment. We looked everywhere. Closets, behind and under furniture, and all around. There are no footprints in the new snow, nothing to tell us that anyone other than you were in there.”

“You think I made it up?”

“No, I think it was a very vivid dream. Considering what has happened to you, a completely understandable reaction. Your mind was short-circuiting and caused you to have a very real feeling dream,” he said, handing her the shoes. “Put these on and I’ll walk you back in.”

She slipped into her flats, and stepped out of the car. He helped her into her coat, then walked her back to her door. The two other officers were still in her apartment, rechecking everything for the supposed intruder, but again found nothing out of place.

“There was no forced entry at your front door. He would have to be Spiderman, to scale up five balconies, to get to you that way. Still, we checked for footprints just in case he was. Nada!” one of the officers told her.

“Thank you anyway. I’m so sorry I brought all of you out here for nothing,” she said, embarrassed by what had taken place. She prowled around her space, still seemingly sure he was there. Looking at the opposite side of the bed from where she’d slept, she could see the sheets were still tucked in and there was no head indentation in the pillow. It didn’t look like someone had been laying there, next to her.

Satisfied she was alone and had dreamt the whole thing, she said, “Thank you again for coming to my rescue. I’m sorry for disturbing you and taking you away from more important things.”

“All in a night’s work, ma’am. Think nothing of it,” the officer said as he left.

“If you’re all right, I’ll go back to my car. If you need anything, I’ll be right outside. Try to go back to sleep,” Steve called as he walked out, closing the door behind him. Briah stood staring at the door. As every light she owned was on, she began going around turning them off. She closed closet doors and the vertical blinds that covered the balcony.

She had warmed up considerably. She took off her coat and hung it back on the chair in the kitchen. She knew she would never be able to fall back to sleep, so she slumped down on the couch and turned on the TV, to watch the hundred or so infomercials that plagued the air waves at three in the morning.

“So, I look up from my cell phone to see this vision of a woman, in a sheer-lace, light pink teddy, running full-tilt-boogie towards me. Her titties are bouncing like crazy and the teddy is ridding up so I can see these skimpy lace panties with strings tied on the sides.

“I got hard as stone for a nanosecond, until my brain slides into gear and I realized it’s Briah that’s doing the running. I bolt from the car and she runs right into my chest. I know this is unbelievably sexist and completely unprofessional, but all I wanted to do was bend her over the hood of the car and f…”

“I got the picture. And you’re right, that is way past unprofessional and sexist. You’re supposed to be there to protect her, not to ogle her body,” Aiden said, jealous that it wasn’t he who had witnessed the whole escapade.

“I know, I’m bad, but my wife used to wear those teddies and panties. I used to untie them with my teeth. That was two babies ago. Now she wears cotton grandma underwear that wouldn’t excite a sixteen-year-old, and we both know they are excited by everything,” Steve reminisced.

“Okay, thanks for the update,” Aiden said.

“You’re welcome. I’m going home and jumping Cindy.”

“TMI, Steve.”