The Winter People

“Hiding,” Fawn said.

 

“Show me where,” Ruthie said. It was the second time Fawn had pulled this, and Ruthie wasn’t going to let her keep her new hiding place a secret any longer.

 

“No way,” Fawn said.

 

“I swear, Fawn, if you don’t show me, I will never play hide-and-seek with you again.”

 

Fawn stared at her for a moment, gauging her sister’s sincerity. She whispered in Mimi’s ear, then held the doll’s mouth against her own ear, nodding.

 

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll show you.”

 

Fawn led the way across the living room to the front hall and flung open the closet door.

 

“But I looked in here!” Ruthie said.

 

Fawn pushed aside the hanging coats and parkas and pulled out the winter boots.

 

“Here,” she said, showing the wooden panels that made up the back wall of the closet. There were four panels, and they looked as solid as could be. “This one pops out,” she explained, working her small fingers into the groove of the one on the bottom left, wiggling it until it came free.

 

“Holy shit,” Ruthie said. “How did I not know about this?”

 

She’d opened the closet door just about every day of her life, grabbing jackets and shoes and umbrellas. How many other secret hiding places did she walk past each day without realizing it?

 

“It goes way back,” Fawn said, sticking her head into the deep, shadowy hole.

 

“Let me see.” As Ruthie stepped into the closet, her claustrophobia kicked in right away. Her palms got sweaty, and her heart beat faster. Her mind screamed, Get yourself out of here—now!

 

Ridiculous, she told herself. It was only a closet. The same closet she hung her coat in every day.

 

“Let’s get a flashlight,” Ruthie said. Fawn nodded and ran into the kitchen, pleased to be given an important mission. Ruthie heard her pull open a drawer, rummage around, then come thumping back down the hall.

 

“Here,” she said, flashing the beam of light right into Ruthie’s eyes.

 

“Quit that,” Ruthie said, squinting. “Hand it over.” She took the light and aimed into the darkness.

 

“Hey, there’s something in there, stuffed way back.”

 

It was hard to make out much in the dark, but there, in the back left corner of the secret compartment, was some kind of bundle.

 

“Huh?” Fawn said, squinting in.

 

“Can you go see what it is?”

 

“Sure,” Fawn said, crawling into the space and reaching for the bundle. Ruthie, suddenly afraid, wanted to tell her to stop, hold on a minute. Who knew what Fawn might find? After she found the gun and wallets upstairs, anything seemed possible.

 

“It’s a backpack,” Fawn called out, pulling it over to Ruthie.

 

Ruthie reached for one of the straps and dragged it out into the open, relieved to be in the hallway once again. It was black, and heavier than she expected, with several pockets and zippers covering the outside. It wasn’t anything either of the girls recognized.

 

Fawn bit her lip. “What do you think’s in it?”

 

“One way to find out,” Ruthie said. She hauled the bag to the living room, set it on the coffee table, and stared at it for a minute, fingers pinching the zipper. Her mind went to all sorts of terrible places when she imagined what might be inside: cocaine, more guns, snuff films, body parts.

 

She shook herself out like a wet dog, trying to drive all those thoughts away.

 

It was just a backpack.

 

She took a deep breath and yanked on the zipper. Fawn turned away.

 

“It’s camera stuff,” she reported, relief in her voice. The backpack was divided into small, padded compartments. She started pulling things out of the bag: Nikon digital SLR, three lenses, a light meter, a flash attachment, an extra battery pack, and a collapsible tripod. She’d messed around with Buzz’s camera and video equipment enough to know that this was the real deal—expensive stuff.

 

The only cameras she’d ever seen her parents use were the disposable ones you could get developed at the drugstore.

 

Fawn wandered off, dragging her doll.

 

“I think it came from the woods,” Fawn whispered to Mimi.

 

“What’s that, Little Deer?” Ruthie asked.

 

“Nothing. Just talking to Mimi.”

 

Ruthie picked up the Nikon, flipped the switch to ON, and looked at the screen. Nothing happened. She turned the camera in her hands, looking for some other switch, thinking maybe there was a trick to it—she’d have to have Buzz come take a look tomorrow.

 

“Ruthie?” Fawn said, her face pressed against the living-room window.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“There’s someone outside. Coming this way.”

 

 

 

 

 

Ruthie

 

 

“He’s coming closer.”