In the Bleak Midwinter

“Ethan!” Mindy called. The road ended at the gaping two-story-high entrance to the old barn. Even in the antiseptic winter air, the smell of manure and hay and machine oil was strong. “Ethan!”

“Maybe you ought to stay out here,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This is my son we’re talking about.” Inside, the barn was warm with animal heat. The cows on the left-hand stalls had all been hooked up to their milkers, while the ones on the right waited their turn with bovine patience. The machinery was silent, however, and Ethan was nowhere in sight. The low ceiling was punctuated by four trap doors that Russ could see, leading up to the huge hayloft. The back of his neck felt hot and prickly. Something in the situation read wrong, very wrong.

“Where’s that lead to?” He pointed to the door at the opposite end of the barn.

“The tank room. See where the tubing goes in through the collars on the wall?”

“Anything after that?”

“Storage. We have a machinery shed for our tractors and such, but that’s not connected to the barn. Ethan must be having some problem in the tank room. The pressure valves have been acting up lately. Ethan!”

The tank room door bounced open. Ethan stood framed in the doorway, a big, scared young man with a shotgun pointed straight at Russ.

Russ shoved Mindy into a stall and dove in beside her. “Ethan!” she screamed. The cow sharing the space tried to turn her head around to see what was going on, but her bit chains held her to the feed trough. Mindy jumped up. “Ethan, what are you doing?!?”

Russ yanked her down so hard she hit the floor and lost her breath for a moment. “Shut up, Mindy,” he hissed.

“Get out of here, Mom!”

“Ethan?” Russ said, projecting a calm he didn’t feel into his voice. “Your mother is going to get out of this stall and walk out of the barn. She’ll be alone. Then you and I can talk. Is that okay?”

“I’m not leaving!” Mindy whispered.

“Both of you get out of here!”

“You get out and run to the house and call nine-one-one. Tell them what’s happened. Then keep Wayne and your girl away from here. Let me handle this.”

“You’ll shoot him! You’ll shoot him!”

“What are you doing?” Ethan shouted.

“Mindy, I haven’t fired my gun off the range in over four years, and I don’t intend to start now. Let me talk to the boy.” He raised his voice. “Ethan? Your mom’s coming out of the stall now. Don’t shoot.” He hauled Mindy to the edge of the wooden wall. “Go, goddamnit.”

She stood shakily. “Ethan, please, don’t do this.”

“Get out, Mom. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Mindy looked back at Russ.

“Go!” he hissed. “Go, go!” She stumbled back a few steps, moving to the doorway while still facing her son. Russ nodded encouragement. Even when you trust someone, it takes a steel sphincter to turn your back on a loaded weapon pointed at you. When she disappeared into the barnyard, he rested his forehead against the low wooden wall for a few seconds worth of sheer relief.

“Ethan? How about you and me talk now? Okay? Let’s work this out.”

Mindy Stoner was scrambling up her porch steps two at a time when she heard the shot fired.

CHAPTER 13

Mark Durkee had his head in between two half-unscrewed pipes when the phone rang. “Daddy, issa phone,” Madeline said helpfully.

“Yeah, cupcake, Daddy hears it.” He backed out from under the kitchen sink carefully. The phone kept ringing as he wiped off his hands and moved his toolbox out of Maddy’s reach. He hoped it wasn’t Rachel with more car problems. He’d have to leave an hour early if he wanted to fetch her home from work and still make his shift on time.

“Yeah,” he answered. Maddy was trying to pick up some of the washers he had left on the floor. Were those small enough for her to swallow?

“Mark, it’s Harlene. Listen, we’ve got an officer in distress in Cossayaharie and I want you there.”

His first thought was that it must be some sort of prank. Except Harlene sounded dead serious. “What’s going on?” He’d have to get Maddy into her snowsuit. Where could he leave her until Rachel got home?

“The Chief went to Wayne Stoner’s to serve a warrant on his boy, Ethan. Ethan’s holding the chief in the barn with one of their hunting rifles. At least one shot has been fired.”

“Shit! The chief?”

“We don’t know. The state troopers are sending a squad there, and I’ve called Lyle and Ed off patrol, but you’re closest.”

He was. Maybe a ten-minute drive from the Stoner’s farm. He knew from experience that it would take the troopers at least thirty minutes or more to reach Cossayaharie. A man who’d been rifle shot could bleed to death in fifteen minutes. Less.

“Harlene, I’m gonna drop Maddy off with the Slingers, next door. Will you call my wife and let her know? I’ll call you on the situation when I get there.”

“Be careful. You know what Russ would say. Don’t try to be a hero, okay?”

“Yeah.” He hung up. No squad car, no shotgun, no spray, no vest. Shit. He scooped up Maddy, who squealed in delight. “Come on, cupcake. Daddy’s going to work early tonight.”