The Kid Who Stole Christmas (21 page)

Microwave meals were the catch of the day. Shannon found hers quite tasty, perhaps because it was nearly three in the afternoon and she was famished. Rick ate his while still on the phone, and might not have even tasted it. But his hard work paid off at last.

“I have good news and bad news,” he announced.

“I always prefer bad first,” Shannon told him. “Makes the good seem even better.”

“Okay. The bad news is, you were right. There really are a lot of rich people around here. Then, too, the price on these pools has come down a bit since I was in the business. I thought we’d be looking at one or two of them, tops. But the distributor for one major brand claims sales of over a hundred statewide.”

“Oh, no!” Shannon exclaimed. “You’d better tell me the good news quick.”

“Let’s take a look at the map again.”

They went back into the kitchen and sat at the table. Rick picked up the marker and checked his notes.

“There are a lot of installers in the state,” Rick began. “But naturally, a lot of them operate out of Denver, since it’s the biggest city. I asked around and found the ones who do these kinds of pools, and then narrowed those down to the ones who do a lot of work in the mountains. That reduced it from one hundred to twenty.”

“Wow.”

Rick nodded in agreement. “A lot of well-to-do indoor swimmers up here. Anyway, I then narrowed down the possibles even further by asking specifically about this area.” Rick indicated the zone Shannon had marked earlier. “Considering that Vail is in this cell, I suppose it’s not surprising that we’re still left with ten out of that twenty.”

Shannon was starting to feel much better. “Ten houses,” she said. “That’s not so bad.”

“It gets even better. While you were slaving over a hot microwave, I saw what direction this was headed and decided to try chasing down the other clue you remembered. About the phones being out during that storm?”

“And?”

Rick drew two parallel lines down the middle of the cell. “This area in the middle, more or less along the interstate, was the one affected.”

“How many pools?” Shannon asked excitedly.

“Three.” He held up that many fingers. “They probably all have satellite dishes, and they might even have white rugs with purple stains in their entertainment rooms. But it’s a pretty good bet that only one of them has a Lyon.”

Shannon was on her feet, gathering their things. “Then let’s go find that one!”

“I did save a small piece of bad news for the end, I’m afraid,” Rick admitted. “But only because I just noticed it.”

“What’s that?”

Rick pointed out the window. “We’ll have to find that one house in what could become a full-blown blizzard.”

Chapter Eighteen

A
s Shannon and Rick pulled away from the Bayer lodge, they could see that the clouds were moving in from the south with a vengeance now, boiling over the nearby peaks in a dark gray sheet. They had only gone about a mile, when the snow started coming down in big, fat flakes.

Shannon was at the wheel, and Rick wasn’t making any macho noises about wanting to take over, either. Although he had been in some dandy snowstorms during his wanderings, especially back East, it had been years since he’d driven a car in one. Still, he couldn’t help fretting a bit.

“Is this car pretty good in the snow?” Rick asked.

“Decent. It’s a front-wheel drive.” She glanced at him and smiled. “I’ve never gotten stuck, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“I’m not worried,” Rick objected.

“Yes, you are. But you can stop. It’s going to take a lot more than a few snowflakes to keep me from finding Leo.”

“That’s sort of what has me worried,” Rick muttered.

Nevertheless, Shannon decided to start at the westernmost end of the corridor Rick had marked on the map, since the one house they needed to check there was also the one deepest into the mountains. She wanted to get there and back as soon as possible, because of a pass they had to go through that the State Patrol might close, should the storm become severe.

Once back on the interstate, they both relaxed. Snow was falling, but the roads were still clear. It only took about half an hour to reach their destination. Shannon’s map didn’t give a street-by-street breakdown for the little ski-resort towns, so they had to stop at a gas station and ask directions. At the same time, they bought a better map. Like the gas they didn’t buy, it was enormously overpriced, but necessary.

The house at the address Rick had tracked down wasn’t at all what they expected. Small and unassuming, even a bit tacky-looking among its ultramodern stone and glass neighbors, it was a simple frame home with weathered cedar siding and a single-car detached garage.

There was a lot of traffic moving up and down the road in front of it, mostly pricey four-wheel drives with fully loaded ski racks on top. They had no skis, but the pair of amateur sleuths didn’t think they’d look too suspicious if they stopped and pretended to check their map, while covertly scanning the area for signs of kidnappers.

“Satellite dish,” Rick said, looking at the side of the structure. “And I guess there’s enough space for an entertainment room in there somewhere.”

“Hard to imagine any white carpeting inside, though,” Shannon said doubtfully.

“True.”

“What do you think we should do?”

Rick sighed, then reached for the door handle. “I’m going to go ask to see their pool.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

With that, Rick climbed out of the car and dashed through the steadily falling snow right up to the front door of the house. Shannon watched, incredulous, as the man who came to the door ushered Rick in almost immediately.

Ten minutes went by. Shannon was starting to have a horrible vision of Rick floating facedown in the pool he had so blithely gone to see. But he suddenly emerged from the house, waved to his host and dashed back across the street to Shannon. Though he did the best he could to brush himself off, his shoulders were still covered in a mantle of white.

“Whew!” he exclaimed. “Really coming down out there.”

Shannon sniffed. “Surely that’s not beer I smell on your breath? Not when I was out here worrying about your having fallen prey to murderous kidnappers.”

“Sorry,” Rick apologized sheepishly. “But Bill brews his own, and refused to let me go unless I tasted some.”

“Bill?”

“The guy in the house. Bill Enright. He’s a retired heating contractor. A real nice guy,” Rick informed her. “But he does like his beer. Got the pool so he could swim off the excess calories year-round.” He leaned closer with a conspiratorial air. “Bill’s pension fund has done very well.”

Shannon chuckled. “You’re doing very well, that’s for sure. Must have been one incredible beer.”

“He did tell me the combination of it and the altitude might have a considerable kick,” Rick said.

“Uh-huh.” Shannon pulled away from the house. “I think I’d better find you some coffee. I need you clearheaded.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

“You did remember what you went in there to do, right?”

Rick scowled at her. “I know you, Ms. O’Shaughnessy. You’re just sore because I didn’t bring you one. And yes, I checked. No white carpeting, no kidnappers and no Leo. He did have a parakeet, though.”

“Do tell.”

“Its name was Ouch.”

Shannon sighed. “I know I’m going to hate myself for asking this, but why did he name his parakeet Ouch?”

“I asked the same thing. Bill told me to put my finger in its cage and I’d find out.” He chuckled. “Bill’s a riot.”

Shannon got them both some coffee at a convenience store and then headed back east on the interstate. The snowfall was increasing, and it took them twice as long to get back to the pass. By then, Rick had sobered considerably. “My finger hurts,” he told her.

“What did you expect from a bird named Ouch?”

“My head hurts a little, too. I suppose I should have known better than to imbibe a beer called Malted Mayhem, as well, shouldn’t I?”

“It was probably unwise,” Shannon agreed. “But then, so is driving in this weather.”

“We could go back and stay with Bill. He did offer.”

“Hah! I’ll take my chances.”

She studied the winding road of the mountain pass up ahead of her. Snow had long since started sticking to the pavement at this altitude, and the conditions were far from ideal. If a sand truck hadn’t been about four vehicles ahead of her, her car wouldn’t have made it. As it was, they skewed sideways a couple of times on the long uphill climb, giving both of them a thrill they could have lived without.

At last they reached the crest of the pass and started downward. Now, the biggest problem wasn’t getting stuck, it was sliding off into the deep ravines on either side of the snowpacked road. By taking it nice and easy, Shannon managed just fine. But caution did have a price. When they again passed the cutoff for the Bayers’ lodge, Shannon glanced at the dashboard clock. The return trip had taken them three times as long, and it was now full dark.

“Where’s the next house?” she asked.

“Well, the crossroad is about ten miles ahead. And I’d say it’s about another five from there.” Rick peered out the windshield at the snow. It was falling so heavily now that it was a virtual wall of white in front of them, reflecting the headlights back and creating an annoying glare. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

“I’m doing fine,” Shannon objected.

“Sure you are. Now. But you have a string of cars ahead of you blazing the trail,” Rick said. It amazed him how heavy the traffic was, considering the strength of the storm. “It looks like those who have to are getting out of the mountains while the getting is good. We should join them.”

“No!” Shannon was adamant. “I don’t know what Angela and her paramour are up to, but if it involves Leo, I want him safely away from it.”

Rick touched her shoulder. “We won’t do him much good stuck in a ditch and buried under three feet of snow, either.”

“That won’t happen.”

It was already two inches thick on the hood of the car, and they were moving. He could only imagine what the actual accumulation was. But Rick could tell by the look on her face that arguing with her was useless. And he wasn’t accustomed to weather like this. Maybe Shannon did know what she was doing.

When they reached their turnoff and plunged into the blackness on their own, however, it became apparent just how much of an aid to navigation the headlights of other cars and an occasional streetlamp had been. Though it seemed impossible, the snow started falling even harder. Shannon had the wipers on high, and still couldn’t keep the windshield clear.

They slowed down to a crawl, scarcely able to see one car length in front of them. The blowing, drifting snow made the road ahead seem little more than a footpath through the dense pine trees. It also had a hypnotizing effect as it danced in the glare of the headlights. Shannon felt as if the entire car was moving from side to side.

“Uh, Rick?” she said at last.

He was sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, a dour expression on his face. “Yes, Shannon?”

“I think we’re in trouble.”

“Really? But you said that wouldn’t happen.”

She sighed. He had every reason to be mad, and he clearly was. “I was mistaken.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Any suggestions?”

“I assume you mean one other than the obvious, considering the approaching religious holiday.”

“Yes. I started doing that a few minutes ago,” she said.

“Me, too.”

Rick glanced at the speedometer. They were barely going five miles an hour, and that was pushing the envelope. Except for the pitiful, snow-clogged glow from their headlights, they were immersed in inky darkness. As a final insult, it seemed the heater was having trouble keeping the windows from fogging up. He reached over and, using his glove, cleared a spot for Shannon to see out of.

“Thank you,” Shannon said. “But I’m driving mostly by instinct, anyway.”

“I thought as much. You’d better just stop right here. I’ll get out and scout ahead to see if I can find a place to pull off, and we’ll just wait for a snowplow to come along.”

Shannon did as he asked. It was a relief to be able to stop concentrating on the road. There was a spot in the middle of her shoulder blades that felt as if someone had stuck a red-hot poker in her and left it there.

Rick disappeared the instant he passed the front fender. An occasional gust of wind shook the car, as a reminder of what he must be going through outside. Shannon nearly jumped out of her skin when he knocked on her window.

She rolled it down. Rick was a mass of white from head to toe. “I’m going to walk in front of you. Just follow slowly and try not to run me down, okay?”

“Okay.”

Shannon rolled her window up again as quickly as she could, and even then the side of her head was plastered with blowing snow. Rick stood in front of the car and motioned for her to start moving. She eased forward. They crept along that way for what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few minutes and probably less than a hundred yards. At last, Rick stopped and held up his hands. Shannon stopped, too.

He didn’t even bother trying to shake himself off until he got back into the car. It was a lucky thing that the coat he’d chosen had a hood, or his whole head would be a frozen snowball. As it was, his nose and cheeks were pink from being scoured by the blowing snow.

“Go ahead and turn your headlights off,” Rick told her.

“But how will anyone see us?”

“We don’t want them to.”

Shannon helped brush the snow off him, and then held her warm hands against his face. He moaned and nodded.

“That feels good.”

“We need to thaw you out.” She chuckled. “It sounded like you said we don’t want anyone to see us.”

“That
is
what I said,” Rick said.

He held his hands over his ears for a moment to warm them, too. Before, the car heater hadn’t felt very warm. Now it was heaven. But the windows were fogging up worse than ever, thanks to the snow melting off his clothes.