In the Bleak Midwinter

After her speedy little MG, driving Russ’s pickup felt like piloting a C-130 Hercules transport down the runway. She rolled over the corner curb getting out of the parking lot and nearly sideswiped a carload of Christmas shoppers. Fortunately, the route to Deborah McDonald’s was mostly through countryside. As soon as she hit the town limits, she tromped on the accelerator. “Let’s see how fast you can go, big guy,” she said to the speedometer. She knew her way from Millers Kill to both the Fowlers’ and the McDonalds’, but she had no idea how long it might take Vaughn Fowler to get from his place to Cody’s foster mother’s. She pressed harder on the gas pedal. Maybe she was wrong, and she’d find the baby napping peacefully. Maybe the McDonalds were out shopping. Maybe Wesley’s father was too busy rousting out a lawyer on a Sunday afternoon to think of Cody. Maybe.

Just past the turnoff from old Route 100, she went over the ridge and around the corner way too fast, overcorrected, and would have hit an Explorer heading up the hill if it hadn’t slid into the shoulder. Its horn blared as she went past, her heart beating out of her chest. The next corner she took slow and safe, cresting the top carefully until the valley stretched out before her like a Christmas card. Everything looked peaceful in the McDonalds’ yard as she pulled in.

As she jumped down from the truck, the front door flew open to reveal Deborah McDonald. Today’s sweatshirt pictured two kittens playing with mistletoe. “Oh, my goodness,” Deborah said, “you’re that lady priest. Are you with the family? Do you know where he’s gone?”

Clare’s skin prickled. “What’s happened, Mrs. McDonald?”

“I just had a visit from Cody’s grandfather. At least, he said he was Cody’s grandfather. He knew who Angela Dunkling was—”

“What happened?”

“He was with the baby in the living room while I went to get some pictures, and when I came back, they were gone! I wasn’t sure what to do. I was about to call the folks at DHS . . .”

Clare took the front steps two at a time. “You need to call the police. Tell them Vaughn Fowler has the baby. What was he driving?”

“A big, blue sport-utility truck.”

The Explorer! “Tell them he’s in a dark blue Ford Explorer. I passed him on the curve before this. I didn’t notice the driver.” God had better forgive her for being such an idiot, because she wasn’t about to. She swung around to dash down the steps again.

“Wait! Where are you going? Where did he take Cody?”

Clare closed her eyes. Where. “Let me use your phone for one moment before you call the police,” she said.

Deborah McDonald pointed through the door. Clare strode through the living room, snatched up the receiver and dialed Information for the Fowler’s number, which she punched in before the electronic voice was finished with the last digit.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Clare thought she might scream.

“Hello?” It was Edith Fowler.

“Mrs. Fowler, this is Clare Fergusson. Do you know where your husband is?”

“He’s not here, Reverend. He asked me to call our lawyer and left right after you did. Why? Nothing’s happened to Wes, has it?”

“No, no. Did Vaughn have his gun with him?”

“His gun?”

“Is there any way to check? Please, it’s important.”

“Why on earth—”

“Please! It’s important.”

“Let me look in the gun case . . .” over the phone, Clare could hear the sounds of a door opening and shutting. “I’m right here in his study. His rifles are all here, but his Colt is missing.”

Clare would have bet a year’s salary the Colt was buried in a snowdrift somewhere on Tenant Mountain. “Listen, Mrs. Fowler. I’m calling from Cody’s foster mother’s house. Your husband has taken the baby. If he comes back home or contacts you, try to keep him calm and get the baby away from him. Let the police know right away.”

It was so silent Clare thought for a moment the line had gone dead. “I understand,” Edith Fowler said finally. “I will.”

Clare rang off and headed back outside. Vaughn Fowler was unarmed. But she couldn’t shake the conviction that he meant to dispose of Cody once and for all.

“Did she know where he went?” Deborah McDonald asked as Clare hauled herself into the truck’s cab.