Stake & Eggs (27 page)

“But no car parked in front.”

“It wouldn’t be,” said Toni. “If Claudia and Draper are having an affair, he probably
pulled his car into the garage.”

“You think?” said Suzanne.

Toni nodded. “That’s how they do it on the soap operas. That’s how Deidre and Troy
do it on
Days of Love
.”

“But this is
real
life,” said Suzanne.
And real stupid, too, if we get caught.

“Let’s just take a peek in one of the first-floor windows,” suggested Toni.

“What?” squawked Suzanne.

“Don’t go freaking out on me,” said Toni. “Think of it as
investigating. That’s what you’ve been doing all this week, isn’t it?” She cocked
a knowing eye.

She’s got me there
, thought Suzanne. “But if we get caught…”

Toni flapped a hand. “Then we’ll make up some humpus-bumpus story about selling magazines
or Mary Jane makeup.”

Suzanne sat there, wanting to take a look, feeling a little chicken.

“Don’t worry,” said Toni, easing open the car door, “we’ll make it real quick.”

A
GAINST
her better judgment, Suzanne climbed out of her car and followed in Toni’s footsteps.
Ducking down and keeping to the shadows in the side yard, the two friends slowly crunched
through the snow, angling their way toward the house. Suzanne knew if they got caught
now, she’d really have to do some fancy tap dancing.
My dog ran away.
Or
I think I dropped an earring.
Yeah, right.

Ten steps from Claudia’s house, they had a partial view through a bow window into
what was either a den or family room.

“Careful,” Suzanne whispered. “Not too close.”

So, of course, Toni tiptoed closer. And Suzanne cautiously followed.

Now Suzanne could see the tops of bookcases and paintings on the wall. Den, she decided.
Or library. Whatever. Claudia had nice things, fine things. Things that cost a good
deal of money.

Just ahead, Toni slipped through a bush that was dotted with little red berries and
touched a mittened hand to the windowsill. She rose up on tiptoes, cocked her head,
and whispered, “Holy cow.”

Curiosity burning like a red-hot poker, Suzanne slipped closer, too. She pressed up
toward the window and peered in.

They were there, all right. Sprawled across Claudia’s prim, white cabriole-style sofa.
Claudia and George Draper, locked in a passionate embrace.

“Hot diggity dog!” Toni whispered. “Beneath that brittle exterior is a red hot tamale!”

Amid shocked but muffled giggles, they beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of
their car. When they were a block away, Toni said, “We should tell Doogie!”

“Tell him what?” said Suzanne. She was still slightly out of breath and amazed at
what she’d seen. “That the local funeral director is getting more action than he is?
Besides, I already mentioned this possible scenario to him this morning.”

“But now it’s a real scenario. As in real hot.”

“Granted that it’s weird,” said Suzanne, “but there’s no law against it.”
Infidelity doesn’t count if the husband is dead, right?

“The thing that makes this so creepy,” said Toni, “is that Busacker was killed only
a few days ago—and now Claudia’s in the arms of another man. It makes me think Claudia
wanted
Ben dead!”

Suzanne was quiet for a moment. “Or maybe it’s Draper we have to worry about. Maybe
George Draper engineered the whole darn thing.”

“So he could get Claudia as well as the money?” said Toni. “Wow. Wouldn’t that be
a barrel full of crazy!”

O
NCE
again, Suzanne pointed her car in the direction of Toni’s apartment, but Toni had
another burning issue on her mind.

“You said we were going to hunt for the treasure tonight,” said Toni. She was slightly
pleading, half pouting.

“It’s after ten,” said Suzanne. “Way past my bedtime.”

“The shank of the evening,” said Toni. “Besides, where’s your sense of adventure?
When we were younger, we didn’t even go out until nine o’clock.”

“And we listened to Madonna and Devo,” said Suzanne. “And wore shoulder pads the size
of pillows. Hey, things changed. We got a little older.”

“I’ll split it with you,” said Toni.

Suzanne eased off on the gas. “The reward? I wouldn’t expect you to do that.” Then
she added, “Finding the treasure medallion means that much to you?”

Toni nodded. “It does.”

“Okay,” said Suzanne. “Let’s give it half an hour.”

“Hot dang!” said Toni. She was suddenly rifling through her purse, digging out the
clues.

“Let’s look at the most recent one,” said Suzanne, “and try to figure out the basic
gist.”

“Look left and right,” Toni mumbled, “yadda yadda steady hand, make sure it doesn’t
melt.” Toni took a breath. “Every clue so far has pointed to something frozen, which
is barely any help at all.”

“The clues could be referencing Fish Lake,” said Suzanne, “where they’re holding the
ice-fishing tournament tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” said Toni, but she didn’t seem convinced.

“Or just referring to the town’s snowbanks and frozen streets?”

“Which narrows it down to nothing,” said Toni.

Suzanne thought some more. “What about Catawba Creek?” Catawba Creek was the little
stream that meandered through the west end of Kindred. In summer it was a lovely stream
for trout fishing and bumping along on inner tubes. In winter, people who lived along
the banks of the creek swept it clear of snow for the purpose of ice skating. Thus,
intrepid skaters could coast along for several picturesque and uninterrupted miles.

“You think the treasure medallion could be hidden in the ice?” said Toni. “But where?”

“If I had to take a wild guess on where to look,” said Suzanne, “I’d search for it
close to Creekside Park. It’s where the creek widens out and kids play hockey and
such. Plus, there’s a little parking lot and picnic tables.”

“You think we should start there?” asked Toni.

“It’s as good a place as any,” said Suzanne.

They cut over to Ivy Lane and hit Catawba Parkway, the narrow street that wandered
along the creek.

“Park’s just ahead,” said Toni. She was all whipped up, ready for adventure.

“Nobody here,” said Suzanne as she angled into a parking spot. A single streetlight
cast a yellow glow on the parking lot. But out on the ice it was pitch-black.

“This is good,” said Toni. “The fact that nobody’s here means nobody’s figured this
out yet.” She cocked an index finger and tapped the side of her head. “Except us smarties.”

They bundled up again, pulling on scarves and mittens, and hopped out of the car.
Suzanne went around to her trunk and dug out two flashlights.

“You got flares, too?” said Toni.

Suzanne shut the lid. “It’s a treasure hunt, not an accident zone.”

Toni turned on her flashlight and let the beam dance across a grove of dark, gnarled
oak trees. “This feels right,” she muttered to herself. “It’s close to town, but lonely.
And everything’s nice and frozen.”

“If I was one of the treasure-hunt instigators,” said Suzanne, “I’d hide the medallion
in the middle of the stream, maybe even between those hockey nets.”

Toni swept her flashlight toward the ice. “Dug into the ice?”

“Maybe embedded in the ice,” said Suzanne. “Level with it.”

“So it’s still smooth, and you might even skate right over it,” said Toni, liking
the idea.

“It’s a thought,” said Suzanne. “A hunch.”

“A good one,” enthused Toni, as she crunched down the embankment and set foot on the
ice.

“Slippery,” said Suzanne, following her. “Be careful. We don’t want any broken bones.”

But Toni was already half shuffling, half running across the ice toward one of the
hockey nets. When she was a few
feet from it, she gave a good, hard kick and slid her way into it.

“Goal!” she cried, raising both hands in the air.

But Suzanne was focused on something else. She was halfway across the ice when she
saw a small shadow ghost through the birch trees on the other side of the creek.
What was that?

Then the shadow moved again, and Suzanne saw two bright eyes.
Coyote?

It was a coyote. A small, shaggy animal with a wary, rugged appearance.

Suzanne’s heart immediately went out to the poor creature. It looked cold and alone
and probably hungry. Improbably, she felt she should somehow find it some food. Feed
the scrawny little thing before it starved to death.

Where was its pack? she wondered. Or was it lost? Or, worse yet, expelled by a rival?

Toni had seen the coyote, too, and was watching it a little nervously.

Then the coyote lifted its head and tipped up its muzzle delicately, as if sipping
some new scent that had drifted along on the wind. Suddenly, the coyote bunched its
furry body and spun. There was a flash of tail, and then the animal was gone, melting
back into the shadows.

“What do you think…?” Toni began, just as the high-pitched whine of a motor sounded
nearby.

Now what? Suzanne wondered. And before that thought had completely formed in her brain,
a snowmobile suddenly came roaring straight at her from out of the darkness!

“Watch out!” cried Toni, ducking behind the hockey net.

But Suzanne was caught out in the middle of the frozen stream, and the rider was aiming
directly at her, the snowmobile’s yellow headlight bobbing and throbbing! The rider
was garbed in black gear and a helmet with a smoked face mask. A demon driver who
intended to harm her!

Thirty feet, twenty feet, ten feet—the machine was closing on her in mere seconds.
No time to think, barely time to act!

Suzanne waited until she was positive the snowmobile wasn’t going to change direction
before she leapt sideways. A crazy, bounding leap of faith that sent her flying through
the air until she landed hard on her right hip.

“Watch out!” Toni screamed, “he’s coming back!”

Scrambling to her feet, trying to gain some traction, Suzanne fought to shuttle across
the open ice and reach the safety of the hockey net.

But she wasn’t going to make it in time. The snowmobile, with its menacing high-pitched
drone, had cut a sharp turn and was roaring back at her!

Suzanne continued her mad, awkward shuffle toward the net.

“Come on, come on!” cried Toni. She was gesturing frantically. “You can do it!”

But Suzanne just couldn’t! She turned to face her aggressor, balancing on the balls
of her feet, knowing she’d have to launch herself out of his deadly path once again.

Just as the snowmobile was within twenty feet of her, it slowed slightly.

Trying to fix his aim? Suzanne wondered. Coming in for the kill?

The snowmobile whined and revved and moved in closer, again aiming its black, shiny,
wasp-shaped nose directly at her. But this time Suzanne waited an extra beat. And
just before she leapt out of its way, she hurled her flashlight directly at it.

Whipping end over end, splashing little bits of light, the flashlight crashed directly
into the snowmobile’s windshield. Fragments of hard plastic flew everywhere, and the
rider, obviously surprised, swerved hard.

“Take that!” Suzanne screamed. Her blood was up, and she was angrier than she’d ever
been. She gnashed her teeth
like a wild woman and shrieked again, ready to chase after her aggressor and run him
down. Then a steady hand on her arm tugged her back to reality.

“Easy, easy,” said Toni. “He’s gone. That crazy person is gone.”

Suzanne stared at the retreating light, lips curled. “If he comes back!” she threatened,
waving a fist. “If he comes back…”

“Down girl,” said Toni as she tightened her grip on Suzanne and slowly led her back
across the ice toward the parking lot.

“I’ll kill him!” Suzanne vowed. “I will. I surely will.”

“You know,” said Toni, as they clambered up the frozen creek bank, “maybe I should
drive.”

Toni did drive, and Suzanne muttered angrily all the way to Toni’s apartment. When
she pulled up, Toni bounced her hands nervously against the steering wheel, and said,
“I’ve never seen you lose it quite like that.”

“Sorry,” said Suzanne, puckering her brow. “I shouldn’t have…”

“No, no,” interrupted Toni, “you had every right to be angry. That guy tried to run
you down!” She shook her head. “I’m just sorry you didn’t knock his helmet completely
off his fool head. That was good thinking, pitching your flashlight at him.”

“Shattered his windshield,” said Suzanne.

“With a cracked windshield like that, it might be easier to track him down.”

“Maybe,” said Suzanne. “But I don’t want to think about that right now, okay?”

Toni scrunched over and gave Suzanne a big bear hug. “Okay.” Then she wiggled back
to the driver’s side and opened the door. “You gonna be all right? You’re gonna go
right home?”

“Of course.”

But Suzanne didn’t go right home. She couldn’t. She was still too revved up. On a
whim, she drove to Ducovny’s
farm. The yard light was on, spilling its faint glow across the snow, outlining the
barn and a couple of sheds. But no lights glowed from within the house.

They were in bed, Suzanne decided. Of course, there was another possibility: they
weren’t home yet.

Getting out of her car, she walked up to the barn door. Sliding the door open, Suzanne
walked down a row of stalls. It was dark inside the barn, but a faint glow from the
yard light shone through the low windows.

Good enough. Just enough.

Mocha Gent, her horse, was attuned to her scent or her footsteps or maybe he was just
animal psychic. Because he let out a low whinny as she approached and pressed his
chest up against the stall door.

“Hey, fella.” Suzanne reached out and scratched Mocha behind his ears. Then she ran
the flat of her hand down his fine Roman nose and under his bristly chin. As an extra
goodwill gesture, she bent over and blew out a small puff of air. Horses liked that.
It meant you were friendly, trustworthy.