She bundled up in her new parka that didn’t have Spencer’s head wound blood all over it. She’d gone with a bright yellow this time. Yellow like the sun. Yellow like the notes in the Caribbean steel drum album she’d been listening to as the world outside froze.
Hat, coat, gloves, keys, cookies. She took inventory of her pockets and body like a responsible adult. Oh, yeah. Phone. After a frantic search, she found it under a book she’d pretended to read on the couch. Her mind was too full of worry for Camille and what it meant to go home.
With a final glare at the Blackmail Cabinet in the kitchen, Remi stepped out into the winter not-so-wonderland.
She headed up Mahoney Avenue and hung a left on Cadotte. The Grand Hotel’s historic charm came into view as she puffed up the hill. It sat on the rise, dignified and distinguished, overlooking the Straits of Mackinac like some grand dame presiding over the island and lake. In the winter, the place sat shuttered and empty except for a few property caretakers.
As a kid, Remi recalled fantasizing about sneaking into the hotel in the winter and hiding herself away in one of the luxurious suites. Pretending she was rich and famous. A butler to bring her hot chocolate. A collection of scrunchies in every color of the rainbow. An entire closet full of her favorite candy that never ran out. Ahh, the dreams of an eight-year-old.
Here she was, thirty, with enough money in the bank to make those little girl dreams come true. But the reality was, money didn’t buy you the things you really wanted. Including safety.
To save herself an unnecessarily frost-bitten face, she cut across the road and hopped on a cart path that circled the snowy Jewel Golf Course. It was a shortcut that only existed in the winter without thousands of tourists birdieing holes or sunning themselves on emerald green lawns.
The Kleckner house was a one-story ranch with a wishing well in the front yard and a flock of fake flamingos in the flower beds. Given the fresh snow, the pink metal birds were up to their bellies and looked like they were swimming on a lake of white.
Smoke puffed cheerfully from the chimney, promising a toasty reception inside.
Remi knocked on the yellow door.
“Coming!”
A minute later, Mrs. Kleckner, in a Wolverines sweatshirt and jeans, opened the door. She was a weathered seventy-five with a short cap of silver hair. Her face was softly lined, something she attributed to raising three kids and a few decades of Mackinac winters.
“Remi Ford,” she said. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. Come on in. I was just making a pot of coffee.”
“That’ll go perfectly with fresh molasses cookies,” Remi said, holding up the bag.
Lois slapped a hand to her chest. “A girl after my own heart. Come on in, and I’ll check to see if Ben’s up from his nap yet.”
Remi shed her winter layers at the front door and followed her nose toward the coffee. The kitchen was outdated but spotless. The appliances were white, yet they looked as though they’d never been used. That was due to Lois’s obsessive cleaning routine. The woman vacuumed the carpet in the living room and hallway every single day.
It was a miracle she and Ben had stayed married for fifty years considering the man trended more toward slob. Remi noted the coffee mugs already neatly set out on the counter, the little dessert plates, and the neatly cut pieces of coffee cake.
Lois rushed back into the room, her face ashen.
“Ben’s not in bed,” she said, bringing trembling fingers to her mouth.
It was a small house. If Lois hadn’t passed him from living room to bedroom, Ben wasn’t inside.
“Okay,” Remi said, putting the cookies on the counter. “Where does he keep his coat?”
Lois pointed toward the door off the kitchen. “Mud room.”
Together, they made a beeline through the door. There were two winter jackets, one bright blue and one orange, hanging on hooks. But there was only one pair of boots on the drying tray beneath them.
“Oh my God. If he went out there without a coat…”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. It was a warm day by Mackinac standards, but for a man without proper gear who might be wandering in confusion…Well, Remi didn’t want to dwell on the possibilities.
She opened the back door and stared at the fresh tracks in the snow that led up the hill toward the woods in a meandering path.
Lois made a move for her coat. “I have to get out there and find him.” Her voice shook.
The woman was unflappable. Permanently prepared for whatever chaos life had thrown at her. But Remi could only imagine the toll that watching her life partner slowly disappear behind the fog of disease had taken.
“How long was he napping, Lois?”
“I don’t know. An hour, I guess?”
“Were you inside the whole time?”
She pushed a hand through her hair. “I went out to shovel the walk. Maybe a half hour ago? I didn’t want to start too early in case the snow started again.”
“Do you still have your old snowmobile?” Remi asked.
“Yeah. It’s next to the lean-to in the back,” Lois said. “I need to get out there and start looking.”
“You need to stay here and call the police,” Remi insisted.
“I can’t just leave him out there. We walk in the woods every morning together. What if he went there and wandered off the trail?”
Remi took both of Lois’s hands in hers. “You’re going to call the station and tell them everything you just told me. In the meantime, I’m going to go look for him.” When Lois started to argue, she held up a hand. “You have to stay here in case he comes back. My mom will want to get all the details from you. You need to be here.”
The woman let out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”
“You didn’t let anything happen. You are doing a damn good job given the shitty circumstances,” Remi insisted. “This is not your fault. We’re going to find him and bring him home and have coffee cake and cookies. Okay?”
Lois was wide-eyed but nodding. “Okay,” she repeated. “Okay.”
Remi ran for the front of the house and pulled on her gear. She spotted Lois’s phone sitting on the counter and grabbed it. “Here,” she said when she returned to the mud room. “Call dispatch. They’ll be here in five minutes, and with any luck, I’ll have already found him. I have my phone on me, and you have my number.”
Lois nodded again, looking numb and terrified.
Remi grabbed the blue parka and a fleece blanket that had been folded neatly on top of the dryer. She snatched the keys that said Arctic Cat off the hook by the back door.
Lois’s hands shook as she dialed her phone. “Thank you, Remi. Be safe, and you call me the second you find him.”
Remi nodded grimly and bolted through the back door. Her adrenaline surged as she trudged through knee-deep snow, making the air seem warmer than it actually was. She pulled out her phone and, after a hesitation, dialed.
Voicemail.
Shit.