Page 6 of Snow Creek

“I didn’t mean anything by that,” I say, though I did. “I was just thinking about the children. Wondering if you knew what school they attended. It might be the best place to start. We can do that with a phone call.”

She looks at me right in the eye. “There is no school, except what Ida teaches. Her kids, like mine, and like my sister and me before them, are homeschooled.”

Of course.

“All right,” I tell her, getting up, “I’ll drive out to Snow Creek for a welfare check. See what I can find.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Not a good idea,” I tell her.

“You couldn’t find it on your own. I’ve been there. Trust me. You need me to come along.”

I don’t really trust anyone.

“I’m pretty good with GPS,” I say.

“That won’t help you. It’s my sister. I have to go.”

I give in. “Fine. You’ll stay in the car the whole time. All right?”

She agrees.

I still don’t trust her.

After letting the dispatcher know I’m headed out on a welfare check-up in Snow Creek, I poke my head into Sheriff Gray’s office to tell him what’s up, and he mutters something that sounds like approval from the online game he’s playing on his phone.

“You want me to ride along?” he asks, looking up, over his glasses.

“No need. I can see you’re busy.”

He smiles at my jab.

In some ways, though I would never tell him, he’s like family to me. He and his wife have me to dinner occasionally. We exchange not-too-personal gifts for the holidays. Candy. A windsock. A book.

I met him at the academy. He was teaching a class on the intricacies of small-town law enforcement—which it turns out isn’t so intricate after all. The cases I’m assigned here are mostly domestic violence and property crimes. The domestics are easy. The property crimes almost never get solved. Meth-heads are brazen, though lucky too.

Maybe Sheriff Gray reminded me of someone. Maybe it was the way he talked to me that made me feel his interest wasn’t rote, wasn’t sexual, but of the kind that indicates a true connection. I told him some things about my past, how I’d erased as much of my background as I could.

“You won’t tell on me?” I’d asked.

He’d shaken his head. “Hell no. We’re all running from something or someone.”

It was like that. He found a few things about me on the police database and deleted them. He told me that when I graduated, he’d have a job for me.

“You are right for this job,” he said on my first day. “Uniquely right.”

He reminds me daily—even when he says nothing—that good can come from evil.

Two

My ancient tan Taurus, windows rolled up, suddenly smells of wintergreen. I lean slightly toward Ruth and sniff. Yes, it’s her. It’s not unpleasant, but a little curious. She’s not chewing gum. Eating candy. As we drive from town, up toward the hills behind Snow Creek, she seems to notice that I’m breathing her in.

Not in a weird way, just a curious one.

“Deodorant,” she announces. “I make my own for traveling. Otherwise I don’t wear it. Hope it isn’t too strong.”

“No,” I say. “It’s nice.”

---