Chill Factor (4 page)

All of this registered with Scott, but on a subliminal level,
until
his dad stopped for one of Main Street's two traffic lights. He was
staring vacantly through the rain-spattered window when his eyes
happened to focus on the flyer tacked to the utility pole.

MISSING!

Beneath that bold headline was a black-and-white photo of
Millicent
Gunn, followed by a basic physical description, the date of her
disappearance, and a list of telephone numbers to call with any
information as to her whereabouts.

Scott closed his eyes, thinking about what Millicent had
looked like
the last time he'd seen her.

When he reopened his eyes, the car was once again in motion,
the
flyer no longer in sight.

CHAPTER
4

ARE YOU CERTAIN WE HAVE EVERYTHING WE MAY NEED? Bottled water
and
nonperishables?" Marilee Ritt tried to contain her annoyance. "Yes,
William. I double-checked the shopping list you gave me before leaving
the market. I even stopped at the hardware store for extra flashlight
batteries because the market had already sold out."

Her brother peered past her through the wide windows of the
drugstore that bore his name. On Main Street, vehicles were reduced to
a crawl, not because of road conditions, which were becoming
increasingly dicey, but because there was so much traffic. People were
anxious to get wherever they were going to wait out the storm.

"Forecasters are saying this could be a bad one, lasting
several
days."

"I listen to the radio and TV, too, William."

His eyes moved quickly back to his sister. "I didn't mean to
imply
that you were inefficient. Just a little absentminded sometimes. How
about a cup of cocoa? On the house."

She glanced outside at the slow-moving stream of cars. "I
don't
think I'd get home any faster if I left now, so all right. I'd love
some cocoa."

He ushered her toward the soda fountain at the front of the
store
and motioned her onto one of the chrome stools at the counter. "Linda,
Marilee would like a cup of cocoa."

"Extra whipped cream, please," Marilee said, smiling at the
woman
behind the counter.

"Coming right up, Miss Marilee."

Linda Wexler had been managing the drugstore soda fountain
long
before William Ritt bought the business from the previous owner. When
he took over, he'd been smart enough to keep Linda in place
.
She was a local institution, knowing everyone in town, who took cream
in their coffee and who drank it black. The tuna salad was made fresh
by her every morning, and she wouldn't even consider using frozen
patties for the hamburgers she cooked to order on a griddle.

"Can you believe this mess outside?" she asked as she poured
milk
into a saucepan to heat for the cocoa. "I remember when we's kids
,
how excited we'd get ever' time snow was in the forecast, wondering was
we gonna have school the next day or not. You prob'ly enjoy a free
holiday much as your pupils."

Marilee smiled at her. "If we have a snow day, I'll probably
use it
to grade papers."

Linda sniffed with disapproval. "Waste of a day off."

The entrance door opened, and the bell above it tinkled.
Marilee
swiveled around on her stool to see who'd come in. Two teenage girls
rushed inside, giggling and shaking moisture from their hair. They were
in Marilee's third-period grammar and American literature class.

"You girls should be wearing caps," she said to them.

"Hi, Miss Ritt," they said, virtually in unison.

"What are you doing out in this weather? Shouldn't you be
getting
home?"

"We came to rent some videos," one said. "Just in case, you
know, we
don't have school tomorrow."

"I hope there are some new releases left," the other girl
remarked.

"Thank you for reminding me," Marilee said. "I may take one or
two
movies home myself."

They looked at her strangely, as though it had never occurred
to
them that Miss Marilee Ritt might actually watch a movie. Or that she
would do anything other than give tests, and grade themes, and monitor
the hallways during class changes, keeping a keen eye out for
unnecessary horseplay. They probably couldn't imagine any kind of life
for her outside the corridors of Cleary High School.

And, until recently, they would have been right.

She felt her cheeks turn warm at the reminder of her new
pastime and
quickly changed the subject. "Get home before the roads get icy," she
cautioned her students.

"We will," one said. "I have to be home before dark anyway.
Because
of Millicent. My folks are freaked out."

"Mine too," the other said
.
"Totally. They've got
to know where I am twenty-four-seven." She rolled her eyes. "As if I'd
get close enough to some creep that he could grab me and carry me off."

"I'm sure they're very concerned," Marilee said. "They should
be."

"My daddy gave me a pistol to keep in my car," the other girl
said.
"Told me not to hesitate to shoot anybody who tried to mess with me."

Marilee murmured, "It's become a frightening situation."
Gauging
their impatience to get on with their evening, she told them to enjoy
the snow day, if indeed they had one, then turned back to the counter
just as Linda was serving her cocoa.

"Careful, hon, it's hot." Looking after the girls, Linda said,
"People have gone plumb nuts."

"Hmm." Marilee took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. "I'm
not
sure which is more disconcerting. Five missing women or fathers arming
their teenage daughters with pistols."

Everyone in Cleary was nervous about the disappearances.
People were
locking doors that previously had gone unlatched. Women of all ages
were warned to be aware of their surroundings when they were out alone
and to avoid dark and isolated places. They were advised to trust no
one they didn't know well. Since Millicent's disappearance, it had been
suggested that husbands and boyfriends meet their partners at their
workplaces at the end of the day to escort them home.

"I can't rightly blame them though," Linda said, lowering her
voice.
"You mark my words, Marilee. That Gunn girl is as good as dead if she
ain't already."

It was pessimistic to think that way, but Marilee was prone to
agree. "When are you leaving for home, Linda?"

"Whenever that slave-driving brother of yours says I can go."

"Maybe I can influence him to let you off early."

"Ain't likely. We been doin' a land-office business all
afternoon.
People figurin' it'll be days before they can get out again."

A drugstore had occupied the corner of Main and Hemlock
streets for
as long as Marilee could remember. When she was a little girl and the
family had come into town, she'd always looked forward to stopping here.

William must have had fond memories of it too, because as soon
as he
graduated from pharmaceutical school, he'd returned to Cleary and
started working here. When his employer decided to retire, William
bought the business from him, then immediately borrowed money from the
bank for expansion.

He bought the vacant building next door and incorporated it
into the
existing store, enlarging Linda's work space and adding booths to
increase the soda fountain's capacity. He'd also had the foresight to
set aside room for video rentals. In addition to the pharmacy, he had
the most extensive stock of paperback books and magazines in town
.
Women shopped here for their cosmetics and greeting cards. Men bought
tobacco products. Everyone came to catch up on local gossip. If Cleary
had an epicenter, it was Ritt's Drug Store.

Along with prescriptions, William dispensed advice,
compliments,
congratulations, or condolences, whatever his customers' situations
called for. Although Marilee thought the white lab coat he wore in the
store was a bit pretentious, his customers seemed not to mind.

Of course there were those who speculated on why both he and
Marilee
had remained single and continued to share a home. People thought that
much togetherness between brother and sister was strange. Or worse. She
tried not to let people who entertained dirty thoughts like that bother
her
.

The bell above the entrance jangled again. She didn't turn
this time
but looked into the mirrored wall behind Linda's workstation and saw
Wes Hamer come in with his son, Scott.

Linda called out to them. "Hey, Wes, Scott, how're y'all?"

Wes returned her greeting, but it was Marilee with whom he was
making eye contact in the mirror. He sauntered over, leaned close over
her shoulder, and took a whiff of the cocoa. "Damn, that smells good.
I'll take one of those, too, Linda. It's a hot cocoa kind of day."

"Hello, Wes. Scott," Marilee said.

Scott acknowledged her with a mumbled "Miss Ritt."

Wes sat down on the stool beside her. His knee nudged hers as
he
slid his legs beneath the counter. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

"You ought not to be cussin', Wes Hamer," Linda said. "You
being a
role model for kids and all."

"What did I say?"

"You said 'damn.' "

"When did you get to be so prissy? I remember a time or two
you
letting fly with a cussword."

She snorted, but she was grinning. Wes had that effect on
women.

"You want some cocoa too, hon?" Linda asked Scott, who was
standing
behind his father, hunched inside his coat, hands in his pockets,
shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Sure. Thanks. That'd
be great."

"No whipped cream on his," Wes said. "He won't win any points
with
football scouts if he's got a gut on him."

"I don't think he's in danger of getting a gut anytime soon,"
Linda
said. But she left off the whipped cream. Wes had that effect on
people, too.

He turned on his stool so that he was facing Marilee. "How's
Scott
coming with American lit?"

"Very well. He made eighty-two on the test over Hawthorne."

"Eighty-two, huh? Not bad. Not great. But not bad," he said,
addressing Scott over his shoulder. "Go on back there and speak to
those young ladies. They've been all aflutter ever since you walked in.
Make sure William knows you're here."

Scott ambled off, taking his cocoa with him.

"Girls won't stay away from that boy," Wes said as he watched
Scott
make his way down the aisle toward the video section.

"You cain't be surprised," Linda said. "He's cute as the
dickens."

"They all seem to think so. Calling the house at all hours and
hanging up if he doesn't answer. Drives Dora nuts."

"What do you think about his popularity with the ladies?"
Marilee
asked.

Wes's gaze swung back to her, and he winked. "The apple
doesn't fall
far from the tree."

She looked down into her cup and nervously searched for
something to
say. "Scott is doing well on the extra
assignments,
too. His writing has improved dramatically."

"With you tutoring him, how could he keep from learning
something?"

Several weeks into the fall term, Wes had approached her about
tutoring Scott on Saturday mornings and Sunday evenings. For her
services, he offered to pay her a modest stipend, which she'd tried to
reject. He'd insisted. In the end, Marilee had accepted the offered fee
and consented to help Scott with his studies, not only because she knew
the importance of his scoring high on his college entrance exams but
because few could say no to Wes Hamer and make it stick.

"I hope you think you're getting your money's worth," she said
to
him now.

"If ever I don't think so, you'll be the first to know,
Marilee." He
grinned at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Hey, Wes?" William called to him from the end of the aisle of
baby
care products. "I've got a free minute. You want to come on back?"

Wes held Marilee's gaze for several more seconds, then asked
Linda
to add the two cups of cocoa to his account and left them to join
William and Scott in the pharmacy section.

"That's curious," Marilee said, wondering what business the
Hamers
had with her brother.

But Linda was busy filling the order of another customer and
didn't
hear her.

 
* 
*
*

Lilly was still puzzling over how Ben Tierney knew she had a
cabin
on Cleary Peak when he asked testily, "Have you got a better idea?"

Being buffeted by the strong wind, she had to think about it
for
only a moment. "No. We should go to the cabin."

"First, let's check out your car."

They made it to her car without mishap, although he was wobbly
on
his feet. She got in on the driver's side. He pushed her suitcase aside
and climbed into the backseat because the right half of the dashboard
had been jammed into the front passenger seat. Once he had pulled the
door closed, he removed his gloves and rested his forehead against the
heel of his right hand.

"Are you going to faint again?" Lilly asked.

"No. We don't have time for it." He lowered his hand and
peered at
her over the back of the seat, giving her a critical once-over. "You're
underdressed."

"Tell me," she said through chattering teeth.

"What have you got in your suitcase? Anything useful?"

"Nothing warmer than what I've got on."

Apparently wanting to judge that for himself, he opened the
suitcase
on the seat beside him. He rifled through her garments, heedlessly
sorting through lingerie, nightgowns, socks, slacks, tops. "Thermal
underwear?"

"No."

He tossed her a wool sweater. "Put this on over what you're
wearing."

She removed her coat long enough to pull on the sweater.

"Let me see your boots."

"My—"