The Deposit Slip (33 page)

“You sure you got it?” Carlos asked, walking at Jared’s side, watching him push a wheelchair through the growing piles of slush on the sidewalk from the VA Hospital to the parking lot.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Jared answered.

Jared looked up in frustration at the snow, beginning to fall with greater urgency. He had a full two-hour drive if the weather continued to worsen, on slick country roads.

The veteran had on his “bionic” leg and walked fairly well, though carefully through the wet snow. The nurse had insisted they bring the wheelchair to limit Carlos’s fatigue while he stayed at the farmhouse for his prep session. The plan was for Carlos to stay the night; then Jessie would drive him back to the VA Hospital in the morning.

Jared opened the back to his CR-V, surveyed the space for a second, and began shifting things around to make room for the wheelchair.

“That what I think it is?” Carlos asked when he pulled out a canvas case.

Jared nodded. “My old .22 and some ammo. Erin said my dad could do some target shooting at the farm this weekend, and he was so excited he put it in my trunk a couple of days ago.”

The wheelchair fit, but barely. Carlos headed toward the passenger side while Jared slid behind the wheel.

As he got into the car, Jared thought back to the advice Clay had given him before his first trial.
“By the time a good attorney finishes his trial preparation,”
Clay had said,
“he is usually convinced of the justice of his case, and equally convinced that any fair-minded jury will agree with him. It doesn’t matter how bad the case really is, or if he’s the only person so certain. A good advocate, once prepared, must believe in the case he is about to present—or no one else will.”

Jared thought he was at that place now. Though there still were moments when doubts came crashing through, most of the time he felt amazed at how far they’d progressed. The discovery of the account number had to mean victory.

As he started the car, Jared saw how thickly the flakes had accumulated on his windshield. The wipers could still push it aside, but at this rate the visibility was going to be limited, and he’d have to take it slow. Hopefully Erin was already back from Minneapolis after picking up Cory at the airport.

He backed up, glancing at the car clock. It was nearly six o’clock, fully dark, and the car was buffeted by growing gusts of wind. Jared grimaced once more before gingerly maneuvering the CR-V out of the VA Hospital lot for the long drive to Erin’s farm.

Jessie looked out the kitchen window as headlights emerged from the blanket of white that obscured everything more than one hundred feet from the side of the house. The car stopped, the lights went out, and Erin emerged from the driver’s side.

The young woman getting out of the passenger door must be Cory. They pulled a red backpack from the car trunk and then slipped and slid the short distance to the side entrance into the kitchen.

“It’s awful out there,” Erin said as she removed her coat. She stomped the clumps of snow from her boots in the entryway and then made introductions.

Cory’s cheeks were flushed from the wind and cold outside. Jessie thought she looked even younger than her twenty-one years. She was dressed in clothes more appropriate for touring southern Europe than the arrival of a Minnesota winter.

Seeing her in person, Jessie was drawn back to Jared’s description of their time in Athens. She wondered how Cory had processed the truth about the threats told to her by Mrs. Huddleston. Was she angry at Jared? Frightened? If she was concerned about the risk of testifying, Jessie saw no signs of it in her face or eyes.

After Cory had shed her coat and boots near the door, Erin led her through the kitchen into the living room, toward the staircase leading to her second-floor guestroom while Jessie returned to preparing supper. She heard the rising howl as the wind began to gust. Already Erin’s car was disappearing under growing piles of wet snow, and the forecast called for the winds to pick up as the night got colder, freezing the snow on the roads.

Jared was supposed to be here within the hour, but she wondered how long it would really take him to make it. It was a good night to be indoors, safe and sound.

The road looked familiar—but then all these country roads were starting to look familiar—two lanes covered with white. Visibility was down to a hundred feet or so. Richard wished again he knew how to use the GPS on his cell phone.

He’d been roaming these roads for nearly an hour now. The sun was fully gone and no stars or moon were visible through the low, heavy clouds overhead. He’d considered calling Jared or Jessie to guide him in, but what would they tell him when he could see no landmarks? As much as he’d hoped to make it to the Larson farm tonight, perhaps it was time to turn around and try to find his way back to Ashley.

A car emerged from the white cloud ahead, moving fast. Then it was past, spraying a mix of slush and snow across the slapping wipers of the Accord. The car, visible in Richard’s headlights for only a moment, seemed faintly familiar.

He drove another quarter of a mile, then came to a T intersection with a road to his right. Richard turned onto the road, hoping this might lead to the Larson driveway.

A few hundred yards down this turnoff, he passed a truck parked at an angle on the opposite side of the road, resting partially in the shallow ditch. Another hundred yards beyond the truck and the Accord headlamps shone on fencing bordering a small turnabout. A dead end.

Richard turned the car around. As he approached the truck in the ditch once more, he slowed. The vehicle was disappearing under mounting snow, but its hood remained nearly dry. It must have been driven recently, he thought. Then he realized where he’d seen the truck before, or one like it, in front of the Legion Hall.

It was the same color; looked like the same model. Richard pulled up alongside the vehicle and rolled down his passenger window. The truck windows were nearly covered over with snow, but it appeared empty.

The snow underfoot was slippery as Richard walked across the front of his Accord toward the parked truck. He brushed aside the snow clinging to the driver’s side window and shone a penlight from his key chain onto the seat. There was nothing there. He did the same to the back windows.

A John Deere hat was visible on the back seat. It rested on an unzipped, empty gun case.

The wind tugged at his coat, and Richard felt the cold keenly. He quickly retreated to the warmth of his car.

Why would a hunter be out on a night like this? Richard looked around in the darkness. The visibility was too poor to see any distance, but the shadow of tall woods loomed across the field on the far side of the parked truck.

The car that passed earlier . . . in the momentary flash of his headlights, Richard had an impression that it was tan. The same color as the car that passed him before the pedestrian appeared at the Legion Hall.

Worried at the accumulating snow, Richard put the Accord in Drive and drove slowly back to the T intersection—where he turned left to retrace his route to Ashley.

The Larson farm had proven too elusive to find in this snowstorm, but Richard knew that he had to be within a mile or so. The hunter. The tan car.

The connections were so vague—like pieces so different they seemed unlikely to fit the same puzzle. He drove on, pondering what he should do.

Erin, Jessie, and Cory finished their dinner of leftovers. Cory spent the meal telling about her trip—particularly her week in Venice and working her way down the coast of Italy.

While Erin and Cory cleared the dishes to the sink, Jessie put on her coat and gathered the full trash bag to carry to the bin across the driveway.

It was growing colder, the snow less wet and the flakes smaller. As the wind gusts snapped at her hair, Jessie felt the touch of the flakes drifting onto her eyelashes and melting as they brushed her cheeks. She looked across the fence at the brown fields that had disappeared under a cushion of snow. It was supposed to be warmer in a few days, and all this could be melted. But fall was losing the struggle, and she knew that soon enough these fields would be knee deep in the permanent white cover of winter.

Jessie tossed the garbage bag into the bin and replaced the cover. As she turned to walk back, she thought she saw movement in the trees, just visible beyond the edge of the house, where the woods of the windbreak ascended the hill into darkness.

A deer, she thought. Each morning their tracks crossed the farmyard in the frost, mixed with rabbit prints and beaver. It made her feel like she slept in a menagerie. She stood a moment longer in the cold, hoping to catch a glimpse of the animal coming out of the trees. But there was no more movement.

Jessie returned to the kitchen door and stepped back inside, shivering in the welcome warmth.

“I think I saw a deer,” she called to Erin standing at the sink.

“That’s not too unusual.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Jessie said with a smile.

They finished the dishes together and then retreated to the living room, now deep in papers and boxes. Cory excused herself for an early bedtime. Her fatigue showed in dark rings beneath her eyes and a fading voice, and they said good night. Jared didn’t plan to work with her until the weekend anyway, Jessie explained, so they wouldn’t disturb her until morning.

Jessie looked around the cluttered living room. They probably still had plenty of time to lay out the notes and exhibits Jared needed to prepare Carlos, since it was such slow going tonight. Jessie glanced once more out the window into the dark. She just hoped Jared would drive carefully.