Road Less Traveled (4 page)

Okay, clearly that was enough of those thoughts.

Still, it was a companionable silence. Carter couldn't help glancing over at Allison a few times as he drove. She was staring out the window, apparently lost in her own thoughts, and didn't notice his quick perusal. Which was probably for the best. Carter knew he had strong feelings for her, and suspected she did for him as well. Sometimes he wanted to pursue that. But she was also one of his best friends, not to mention sort of his boss. A relationship could be awkward. And that was assuming it worked out. So for now they stayed friends, with occasional meaningful looks or comments to remind one another that more potentially lurked beneath the surface.

“Turn left up here on Restin,” Allison instructed, breaking the silence when they reached the affected area. Not that Carter needed anyone to tell him they were getting close. He'd noticed a faint crunching sound a few seconds before, and a telltale sheen to the road in front of him. The entire surface was covered in a thin layer of ice. It wasn't glass-slick like black ice, fortunately, and it was so thin his Jeep's tires shattered it at a touch. But it was still creepy. Ice on the road in April? Even up here, that was just wrong.

As he turned onto Restin, Carter felt like he'd taken a wrong turn into Winter Wonderland. Icicles clung to the streetlights and mailboxes and dripped from the edges of roofs. The sidewalk and street glittered. The entire scene had that still, clear quality you only get in the dead of winter, when it's so cold even the air has crystallized.

He drove slowly, just in case the icy road got more treacherous, and a few minutes later he turned again, this time onto Durbridge, then from there onto Silver.

“That's it.” Allison was pointing to a modest stucco home painted an improbable pale orange, and Carter maneuvered his Jeep into the driveway. He shut down the engine, and hoped as he did that the system wouldn't freeze over before they returned. That would be a fun one to explain to Henry when they called for a tow.

Opening the car door was like stepping into a meat locker. A blast of ice-cold air struck him full in the face as he stepped out, and he could feel the last little bits of water on his hair, face, and uniform freezing instantly. He took a deep breath, and it burned all the way down to his lungs.

Yep, just wrong.

Allison, however, was twirling around like a little girl, and giggling. Giggling! She was holding both hands up like she expected it to snow at any second. Carter glanced suspiciously up at the sky, but it was clear. A sudden blizzard in a four-block area was all he needed right now. She didn't seem too concerned, however.

“Having fun?” he asked her after a few seconds. He hated to interrupt her when she seemed so happy and carefree, but if it got much colder it could actually pose a serious risk to anyone caught outside without full arctic gear. Including them.

She stopped spinning and flashed him a surprisingly impudent grin, then looked a little shamefaced. But only for a second. “Sorry.” She laughed. “I used to love winter days like this when I was a kid. I'd visit my grandparents over the holidays, up in Washington State, and it was sort of magical to go walking in this weather, with everything so still and calm and clear. I miss it sometimes.”

Carter nodded. “I used to see my grandparents for the holidays, too,” he recounted. “Up in Maine. The snow would get so deep it was over my head. I'd dig a little cave into it and make that my secret fort, and stay out there drinking hot chocolate and reading comic books.” He shook his head, chasing the memories back so he could focus on the job at hand. “Not sure we have enough hot chocolate for the entire town, though.”

“Vincent might,” Allison countered, and Carter had to laugh. Yes, if anyone could supply hot chocolate—in an infinite variety of styles and flavors, no less—to all of Eureka, it would be Vincent. The town's resident chef was known for being able to flawlessly concoct any dish or drink, and for having an endless supply of tasty treats back at the town's sole eating establishment, Café Diem. Still, Allison took the mild rebuke for what it was, and straightened up, leading the way up the frozen path and toward the orange house's sturdy front door.

She was closer to the doorbell, and Carter hung back a step while she pushed it. They waited a second, shivering slightly, but there was no response. So she rang it again.

“Maybe the wires froze,” she suggested. But Carter moved closer to the door and leaned in, so his ear was almost touching it. He gestured for her to try again, and she did.

“It's working, all right,” he replied, straightening up again and putting a little space between him and the door. The last thing he wanted was to have his ear freeze to it. “He's just not home—or not answering.” Raising his hand, Carter pounded on the door itself.
Thud thud THUD.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

“I can bust it down,” he said, considering his options out loud. The door looked sturdy but not monstrously so, though of course in Eureka looks could be and often were deceiving. Still, he thought he could batter his way through it. Those years of college ball should count for something.

But Allison put a hand on his shoulder. “That shouldn't be necessary.” And she reached into her pocket, pulling out—

—her phone.

“You're going to call the door down?” She gave him a half smile but didn't answer. Instead she was busy dialing.

“Dr. Savile,” she said after listening for a second. “This is Allison Blake. I am standing outside your front door with Sheriff Carter. There have been complaints. It's obvious you brought your project home with you and have been working on it here rather than back at GD in your lab.” She took a deep breath, and Carter could tell she was working to keep her voice calm. “You are not in trouble, Dr. Savile. Not yet, anyway. But your heat sink is working a little too well. It's drawn all the heat from the other houses on your block, and from the surrounding blocks as well. And I suspect the temperature is still dropping.” She was right—Carter was fairly certain it was even colder now than it had been when they'd pulled up.

“You need to shut the heat sink down now,” she continued. “Immediately. Otherwise, there will be consequences.” She turned off her phone and pocketed it again.

“That's it?” Carter asked her. “Consequences? You didn't even say what they were!”

“I don't have to.” The smile she gave him was sweet—and, under that, a little bit dangerous. Like the smile of a small child seconds away from a massive tantrum.

“Okay, but I—” He stopped midsentence and looked around. “Is it me, or did it just get brighter somehow?” He hadn't even realized it, but the street had been a little dim for a clear early morning. Now he noticed it because the effect was gone, as if someone had cast a thin curtain over the sun and just pulled it back again.

And it felt warmer, too.

He breathed in, and there was only a mild discomfort. Yes, definitely warmer.

“It worked,” he marveled. Allison just gave him a smirk before heading back to the Jeep.

As always, Carter was impressed. She was always so calm, so collected. So in control.

Except, apparently, when she was twirling in the cold mountain air, waiting for snow.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he told her as he slipped back into the Jeep, started her up, and reversed out of the driveway. “I would've wound up kicking in the door and bullying Savile into shutting the thing down.”

“That would have worked, too,” Allison agreed, laughing. “But my way there's less cleanup.” She leaned back in her seat. “Anyway, you're welcome. It's actually nice to get out for a change, rather than being cooped up in meetings and status reports and presentations all day.”

“Is that what you've got lined up when we get back?” Carter chuckled. “Fun!”

“Sometimes it is,” she argued. “Actually, one of our researchers thinks she's had a breakthrough with her project, and asked me to stop by for a demonstration. That's one I'm actually looking forward to.” She smiled. “Care to join me?”

Carter considered. There weren't any other cases or problems pending right now, except for the Thunderbird theft. He'd left Jo and Fargo to scour the lab, and until he knew what they'd found, he couldn't proceed. So he probably had some time. Plus, wandering around GD with Allison would give him a chance to check on the security systems there, to make sure everyone else's lab was still secure and still wired to report any problems. That wouldn't be a bad thing.

He liked to keep up on what was going on at GD, as much as he could. The projects there had a bad habit of spilling over into the town proper, making messes Carter then had to clean up. If he knew about the projects beforehand, he had a better idea of what had happened and how to stop it or fix it or contain it or do whatever else needed to be done.

And he was always happy to spend more time with Allison. “Sure,” he answered. “Why not?”

“Great!” The smile she gave him was warm and genuine, and did more to combat the recent cold than all the heat lamps in the world.

“So, how's Jenna doing?” Carter asked a few seconds later. “I haven't seen her in days!”

That got a laugh. “You're such a doting godfather!” But Allison was beaming when she said it. “She's doing great, thanks. I think she tried to talk the other day!”

“Of course, she did,” Carter agreed. “She's, what, six months old now? She should be writing her dissertation soon!”

“Only if she follows in her big brother's footsteps,” Allison joked. Kevin, her son, was a teenager now.

“How's Kevin doing, anyway?” Carter smiled. “No more sidewalk graffiti?” On his first day in Eureka, several years ago now, Carter had seen Kevin drawing with chalk on the sidewalk near the sheriff's office. Drawing an incredibly complex string of mathematical equations.

“He's good,” Allison answered. “His new tutor's been wonderful at bringing him out of his shell, though of course the effect is only temporary.” Kevin was autistic, and spent most of his time wrapped in his own thoughts. But when he did emerge, those thoughts were often brilliant, even for a place like this. Carter suspected that the lanky teenager might be the smartest person in the entire town, which was an unsettling thought. Fortunately, Kevin was also a sweet, good-natured boy, even if he could be incredibly cryptic on the rare occasions when he chose to interact with the rest of the world.

Carter looked over at Allison again, admiring the way she glowed when she talked about her kids. It hadn't been easy for her, he knew. Her first husband, Kevin's father, had died long ago, and she had basically raised Kevin on her own while working and dealing with his autism. She'd met and married Nathan Stark shortly after moving to town, but that relationship had fallen apart and Nathan had left Eureka. It had been rekindled—much to Carter's chagrin—when Nathan returned, and the two had actually planned to marry again before Nathan gave his life to save Eureka—and in fact the world—from a time-space experiment gone horribly wrong. A few months later Allison had discovered she was pregnant with Nathan's child. Carter had helped as best he could, including being her birthing partner, but she was still a single mother raising two children while balancing an incredibly complex and demanding full-time job. And yet he saw how she doted on both kids, and what a great job she was doing with them. It was truly amazing.

“You know what Kevin needs?” Carter told her. “A pet! You should get him a pet! But not a boring one, like a cat or dog or a turtle. He needs something different. Something more . . . exotic.”

“What, like a Thunderbird?” Allison swatted him on the arm. “Yes, because it's not bad enough cleaning up after a teenage boy—even an autistic one—and a toddler; you want me to have a small sentient thunderstorm floating through my house as well! Thanks a lot, Carter!”

But she laughed as she said it, and Carter grinned. This whole little detour to deal with Dr. Savile and his heat sink had been worth it, just to cheer him up.

Too bad they had to go back to GD eventually.

“I don't believe this,” Jo grumbled as she marched back
down the corridor. “Bad enough I've got to work a case here at GD, and that Carter's going to be counting on me to find something useful. But now I've got to do it with a bloody albatross around my neck?”

“Hey, I resent that!” Fargo was practically jogging to keep pace. Jo sped up. “Sheriff Carter asked me to help because he knows how valuable my input can be.”

“Yeah? Valuable like when you gave the thief a smokescreen so he could get away?” Jo snarled over her shoulder. “Valuable like when your little sprinkler trick hatched one of those eggs in the first place? That sort of valuable? Because I'm not seeing a whole lot of value there—at least, not for us, anyway.”

“I had no way of knowing the combination would set off the egg,” he protested between breaths. “The egg was less stable than I'd expected. And I had to deal with the containment gases, for everyone's sake.”

Jo just growled and gritted her teeth. The worst part was, she knew he was right. He hadn't really done anything wrong; he had been trying to help. Hell, he
had
helped—she and Carter would have succumbed to those gases otherwise, and who knows how many other people at GD might have been affected? Plus, the thief did escape, but at least with only one Thunderbird egg instead of both. That was something.

But she was still pissed. Pissed that they'd let the thief get away, pissed that they'd needed Fargo's help at all, and pissed that now he had a license to tag along and make annoying comments and puppy dog eyes at her. Great.