Single Sashimi (24 page)

Venus handed her shovel to Mika. “Put this in the shed for me. Where could she have gone?” She hustled toward the cabin. Flashlight. And a map of the area. And an extra layer or two—it was getting colder.

“One of the girls said she saw Rebecca walking down the road.” Kat pointed down the residential street, walled on both sides with snow shoved aside by the plows.

“I’ll go look for her.” Venus tried to sound cheerful, but only sounded rushed. They had snaked through a labyrinth of streets to get to the rental cabin. How could she possibly find a small, cold girl by herself? Maybe David could search with her? But that would leave Kat alone in the house with the fifteen kids who hadn’t gone skiing—not a good ratio.

At that moment, Drake’s SUV and Herman’s van roared up the street, revving their engines as they strained up the steep hill. They eased into the driveway and kids spilled from the cars.

Venus had never been so happy to see Drake in her life.

A
s soon as her fingers unthawed enough to move them, she was going to strangle Rebecca.

Venus walked down a lonely snowy road with houses standing as silent sentinels on each side. The skiing started early and most weekend warriors went to bed early, so many of the rental cabins stood foreboding in their dark silence.

Wait, there—lights! That cabin had lights in the window. She hustled toward it.

Ice Princess, she wasn’t. Her right leg slid out from under her and she landed hard on her rump. Her jeans immediately sucked up the melted ice, wetting her panties and flash-freezing her cellulite.

Oh, man.

She considered sitting in the wet puddle and crying, but the fear of Drake happening upon her like that made her shoot to her feet, where she wobbled in the slippery road for a second. Granted, he’d gone to search in the opposite direction, but she refused to be caught crying. He might do something nice like fold her in his arms and kiss her. And considering how cold, wet, and hungry she was, she might kiss him back.

And what’s wrong with that?
a part of her wanted to know as she trudged toward the lighted cabin. She’d spent months dancing around him while accepting Reese’s peanut butter cups. She’d originally kept him at arm’s length, but he’d proven to her that he had changed. Dramatically. He even came to church with Gerry on Sundays.

She rapped on the door to the cabin, which looked as old as her own. Male voices from within stopped, then lumbering steps toward the door. It cracked open. “Hello?”

A rumpled, college-age boy. Quite high or drunk, if his slack face was any indication. Whew—he smelled like a still. Definitely drunk. “I’m looking for a young girl who ran away from my cabin a few streets over.”

He perked up. His mouth propped open. “She cute?”

Her sharp glare slammed an icicle into his eye. “She’s twelve.”

“Oh.”

Venus was heartily glad for her bulky ski jacket, making her look like an elongated apple. She caught sight of three other young men in the room beyond, two with beer bottles.

The boy fingered his bottom lip. “When’d she run away?”

“About two hours ago.”

“We’ve been inside since two,” one of the other boys yelled at her.

The guy at the door shrugged. “Sorry. Haven’t seen anyone.”

“Thanks.” She had turned away before even finishing the word. The door closed almost as quickly.

She pulled out the walkie-talkie from her jacket pocket as she slid down the driveway back onto the road. “Drake? Any luck?” She had to admit he’d been thinking clearer than she had—he’d shoved the walkie-talkie into her hand just before they set out from the cabin, him taking the streets south while she took the streets north.

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m about to reach the main highway. I’ll turn back and meet up with you.”

“I’m at…” She aimed the flashlight at a crooked signpost a few yards down the road and squinted to read it. “Mulberry Lane.”

“Keep looking. I’ll catch up.”

What was that up there? A short figure without a flashlight. It had to be Rebecca. Probably sniveling and hysterical and as frozen as an
azuki
bean ice cream bar. “Rebecca!” She quickened her pace.

Rebecca starting running toward her. Actually, running rather fast. With a strange loping gait.

It wasn’t Rebecca.

“Aaaaah!” Venus thrust her hands out, palm first, to stop the dripping, muddy, slimy, slobbery golden retriever from leaping up and depositing all that water, mud, slime, and slobber on her mostly dry person. So far, only her butt was wet. She did not need water down her shirt, thank you very much.

The friendly canine panted at her, then dropped and rolled in the muddy snowbank. “Don’t do that…”

He got up and started sniffing the air, his black wet nose coming closer and closer. As he (she?) beelined toward her jacket pocket, Venus remembered the chocolate bar wrapping one of the girls had given to her, which she’d stuck in her pocket to throw away later.

“No, stay away. Yuck! Your entire face is wet! No, stop. Stay. Stop! Not any closer! Ewwww…”

If it were anything but chocolate and plastic wrapping, she’d have thrown it away from her and made a run for it. She wasn’t exactly sure what chocolate did to dogs, but she knew it was bad—did they go into seizures or something? And it couldn’t be good if Dog ate the plastic wrapping—wouldn’t that twist up his intestines or something?

Stupid dog. He didn’t deserve her concern for his health, the way he kept following her as she backtracked down the icy street. She was sure to twist her ankle any second now. She swerved toward the side of the road, batting away Dog’s nose every time he came close to her jacket pocket.

“You are very disobedient! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” She shook her finger at Dog, who licked it. “Ew! These are cashmere gloves, do you know that? How am I going to get your dog slobber out of cashmere? No! Stay away from my pocket—whoops!”

She stumbled over a chunk of ice and tumbled into the snowbank. Her jacket kept the snow from wetting her back, but ice from the top of the bank sifted onto her head, down her jacket, into her shirt, and soaking her bra. “Aaaargh!” Her jeans had become blue razzleberry twin popsicles, and her gloves had pieces of ice sticking to them.

What was worse, Dog trotted right up and rooted at her pocket, inhaling the chocolate scent in long, snotty breaths. Good thing the walkie-talkie was in the other pocket.

“Get away!” She swatted at Dog’s head, who thought it was a game and tried to lick her waving hand. “No, no, no!” She had to get out of this snow, if only Dog would let her.

“Move!”

Dog backed away, tail still wagging.

Was that a dog command? Well, no time to question good fortune. She scrambled to her feet, dripping chunks of snow. Ugh, she had snow in her shoes! Cold wetness slid down her ankle.

A faint whistle carried on the brisk air. Dog’s ears perked up, and then he dashed off.

Venus scowled as she brushed snow and water from her arms. “You were about five minutes too late,” she groused to the invisible owner.

“Venus?” crackled from her jacket pocket.

She grabbed the walkie-talkie. “I’m here.”

“We found Rebecca.”

“Thank goodness.” Followed by, “I want to be the first to wring her scrawny little neck.”

Silence. She just knew Drake was laughing.

“Where did you find her?”

“I didn’t. Ronald called my cell phone to tell me she showed up back at the cabin.”

“What? You have coverage?” She pulled out her cell phone, which she’d brought along on the fluke chance she’d get a signal. Still no bars.

“Head back to the cabin. I’ll meet you there with a cup of cocoa.”

What she really wanted was a triple-shot latte, but cocoa would have to do. She juggled the walkie-talkie, the flashlight under her arm, and the map in her other hand. “Okay. I don’t think I’m too far—”

With a flicker, her flashlight went out.

Venus dreamed of mochas.

Full fat milk, steamed until it was frothy with that microfoam the barista insisted was essential to a good coffee drink. Five pumps of chocolate—no stinting. With a heaping tower of real whipped cream on top.

Venti sized.

A whopping five hundred calories, with half of those calories from fat. Worth every single extra minute of her workouts for the entire week.

Well, almost. Worth it until she had problems buttoning her waistband or pulling up her jeans.

She huddled deeper into her jacket. She’d stop obsessing about her weight if she froze to death. Where was Drake?

After telling him her flashlight had gone out, she’d buzzed him on the walkie-talkie three times to demand—er, ask him where he was. He gave three different street names, but since she didn’t have light to read her map, she didn’t know how close he was. “Why don’t Lake Tahoe residents need street lamps like normal folk?”

“Because then it wouldn’t be considered ‘rural’ anymore.”

Drake’s voice shot out of the darkness from behind her. “Where are you?” She turned around and got the full glare from his flashlight. “Aah! Turn it off.” She rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Your teeth were chattering too loudly.”

“Were not.” She clenched her shaking jaw.

He grasped her arm to pull her up from the fallen tree log she’d been squatting on. “You’re soaked.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. We’re surrounded by
snow.”

“Which is frozen. Why are you wet?” He sniffed. “And you smell like wet dog.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

“Hey, I’m not going to lie to you when you smell like wet dog. What happened?”

“What do you think happened? I got attacked by a wet dog.”

“Are you bleeding? Burning?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

She would have ground her teeth, except they’d already been shaved to nubs from chattering with cold. “Shut up. The beastly mongrel wanted Naomi’s Snickers wrapper from my pocket.”

“That’s your fault for keeping chocolate on you. You’re in the country. With raccoons and bears.”

“Bears?” She looked around, even though all she could see was, well, dark.

“Why do you think all the trash goes in those enclosed wooden shacks by the side of the road?”

“Uh…ants?”

“Tell me you’re not that ignorant.”

She bristled like a rather wet, icy porcupine. “Excuse me, you were never exactly Survivor Man yourself.”

He stilled in a way she could sense even in the darkness. “Things change when you almost die.”

She couldn’t speak. She’d never forgotten it, but for him, it seemed to follow him around like a ghost, appearing in dark corners.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, but the words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “It changed you a lot, Drake.”

“It didn’t change me. It made me realize I needed to change things.”

“That’s why you retired.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t answer. “But that’s also why you came out of retirement, right? To help Gerry? You two didn’t get along well when I knew you.”

“She hated me. I wasn’t there for her when she miscarried, when her husband divorced her. So when she needed my help for her company, I wanted to make up for it.”

They walked in silence. Venus could feel her legs again, although nothing below her knees. Then it occurred to her. “That’s why you’re helping me with my company.”

Again, he didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, and she didn’t want to embarrass him more.

A breeze rustled the tops of the redwood trees towering above them like God’s armed guards. Maybe it was nice out here in the country. Quiet. Peaceful. A world completely removed from her normal life.

She’d never really asked God what He thought of her normal life. She usually figured that opened or closed doors were God’s way of telling her where to go. She never asked before deciding on what to do.

Like her company. She hadn’t prayed about it. Maybe God was telling her to stop and ask for His will, for once.

Do I even want to know?

She inhaled sharply, and the cold air cut her nasal passages, frosted her lungs. The reality was, she was afraid of what God would tell her. She was afraid of having her shortcomings held up in the light where she couldn’t deny them anymore. She was afraid of being told she’d never reach that point where she would have “made it.”

Could anyone blame her? She had echoes of her mother’s censure all through childhood, of how hard she’d had to work to prove herself in the male-dominated game development industry.

She knew in her head that God didn’t care about what she accomplished or failed at. But her heart still shrank back from asking Him.

She finally did what she’d been expecting to do all night—she slipped. One foot slid forward, the other slid backward. Her inner thigh muscles screamed. One arm windmilled in the darkness, the other thrust out but only brushed her companion’s jacket. “Drake!”

She hung in mid-air an agonizing second. Then arms wrapped around her ribs while her feet skidded in circles on the ice. She grabbed onto his life preserver arms but couldn’t get purchase for her feet.