Snow Signs Read online

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other books by Jennifer Seet

  Back Cover

  Snow Signs

  by

  Jennifer Seet

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  Snow Signs

  Copyright ©2012 by Jennifer Seet

  ISBN-13 978-1-927360-45-3

  First Edition

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Seet, Jennifer, 1946-

  Snow Signs / written by Jennifer Seet.

  ISBN 978-1-927360-45-3

  Also available in print format.

  I. Title.

  PS3619.E356S66 2008 813'.6 C2008-903464-3

  Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

  Snow Signs by Jennifer Seet has been registered with the United States Copyright Office.

  Extreme care has been taken to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Publisher:

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  www.ccbpublishing.com

  Dedicated to my daughter-in-law, Jen and my ‘sister’ Candace.

  The women in this book have qualities I admire.

  I see the same qualities in both of you!

  Acknowledgments

  My dear husband of forty years, Bob, gave me the idea for this book. He has been a staunch supporter of my writing for the time I’ve been at it full force.

  I also want to thank my family for having faith in me. Without their love and patience, I couldn’t do it.

  I decided to write about a deaf woman because of my experience in teaching at the Indiana School for the Deaf. During my thirty years there, I would write a Christmas story for my co-workers that always included a deaf theme. They seemed to enjoy them and encouraged me to continue doing so after retirement. This is my way of thanking them for their support too.

  I would like to thank First Sgt. Brian Olehy for giving me invaluable information about the rankings, job responsibilities and inner workings of the Indiana State Police force.

  I would also like to credit the deputies at my lake community for helping me understand the regulations of living on “Sweetwater”.

  My first book, Borderland, took advantage of a paranormal interest I have had since childhood. This book carries on that interest. Thank you to all of my readers who enjoy and believe!

  Prologue

  A fine feathery mist of snow filtered down through a stand of winter-barren timber. Few drops landed on the outstretched naked branches, but by morning, as intensity increased, a thick coating would illuminate the landscape, much like the full moon now shining in the night sky.

  Light from the moon streaked through the austere woods, casting a silvery surreal tinge to everything in its path. Mimicking the brush strokes on an artist’s canvas, it left a lasting impression of visual imagery, both symbolic and real. For a lone figure stood mutely in the shadow of the trees, her whiteness sharply contrasted but strangely absorbed by the surroundings.

  She watched a house, hoping to find someone staring back at her, but no one did. The windows were darkened; shades were drawn; only darkness reflected from within.

  But, if someone had been inside, gazing out into the stark black and white of the cold night, that person could have been at first curious, and then concerned for this fragile waif, alone, without benefit of coat, gloves, or hat, braving the icy chill, showing no signs of hypothermia, no shivering, not even a hint of discomfort.

  Further, leaning forward, and on closer inspection, the observer might have come to understand that there was something different about the solitary being out in the snow. And, a sharp intake of breath would have accompanied a realization that whatever it was standing in the woods, it was too transparent to be real. Perhaps it was only murky obscurity playing tricks on the mind?

  Then, a gasp might have formed in the throat, catching in the back, struggling to come out as the watcher could have seen something red materialize and trickle down from bony white fingertips. Slowly, it would have become apparent that it was blood dripping on the ground, not too much, just enough to leave a bright-red stain on the snowy blanket.

  And, if that person would have looked up in time, it might have been obvious, but not yet comprehensible, that the figure had already vanished into the night.

  Chapter One

  Birds flocked to the new birdfeeder, brilliant red cardinals, a black and white-breasted chickadee, all in sharp contrast to the snow-covered landscape and sterile trees.

  Claire watched, a smile forming on her face. Good, she thought, first purchase for my new retirement home and it’s a hit with the birds.

  She stood there, ramrod straight, hypnotized by the beauty of the nature in her front yard. A tall, slender woman, she exhibited the erect posture of a self-confident person, used to being in a position of authority… and in a uniform. Her hair was still a soft light blonde with flecks of white beginning to peek through, and her eyes were almost a copper color in their brilliance. She had womanly curves, inviting to any male, but showing the softer side of a female on the other side of fifty. Her hands were graceful, her fingers long and delicate.

  Men had often complimented her on her beautiful hands, probably imagining how they would feel stroking their faces, soft to the touch but passionate as well.

  Frost on the window was beginning to cloud her vision so she had to squint to see the cardinals and the chickadee more clearly. Her breath formed opaque circles on the glass and further impeded her vision, so she wrapped her arms around her chest and began to move away, shivering in response to the cold outside.

  But, as she retreated, out of the corner of her eye she noticed a slight movement, and when she turned around, she saw the wind pick up the snow and send it swirling into the air.

  How beautiful, she thought. I have a winter wonderland outside my front door and don’t have to leave the house to enjoy it!

  “There are some perks to being retired, Claire Dungarven! No phone calls at 3:00 a.m. No fighting traffic to get to a crime scene. No more psychos to deal with.”

  Letting out a soft chuckle, she walked towards the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Delicately fingering the hot cup in one hand, she picked up the newspaper with the other and moved toward the living room again to enjoy
the outdoor scenery.

  As she sat down on the couch, she glanced over at the picture window one more time and her instinct for detail told her that something was different. It was like something was out of place, not the same as before.

  Claire saw the birds flocking around the feeder, shrugged her shoulders, and tried to concentrate on the newspaper. But after reading the headline for the fifth time, she slammed the paper down and stood up to get a closer look.

  Damn! Am I ever going to enjoy myself?

  Thirty years of police work had made her more than just a little observant. It could be a nuisance at times when she was trying to concentrate on something else, and that’s how it felt now. Compelled to see what was awry in the tranquil scene of a few minutes ago, she couldn’t just enjoy the view; she had to analyze it.

  She looked at the birds…nothing amiss. The cardinals and the chickadee continued to enjoy their new feeding spot. Her lips twitched, suppressing a grin. Looks like the squirrels have discovered the bird feeder too!

  Then, her eyes traveled across the front yard, lingering on the spot in between the trees where she had seen the snow swirling around.

  Nothing there now, she thought.

  But as she started to turn back towards the couch, she stopped. Wait a minute! There is something different!

  Turning around to give it another look, her trained eyes took in all the surroundings. No movement. But when she gazed down at the ground, she noticed a spot right below where the snow had blown up.

  “How peculiar”, she said aloud. “It almost looks like….what?” Leaning closer to the windowpane, her breathing began to cloud her vision again.

  “I can’t quite make it out.” Straining to bring the spot into focus, she stared intently, her breath catching in her throat.

  Finally exhaling, she proclaimed, “This is ridiculous!”

  She moved away from the window and sat back down. “I’ve been retired for a week and I’m already talking to myself!”

  Letting out another big sigh, she forced herself to relax, and sipping her coffee, allowed her mind to wander.

  * * * * *

  A lifetime of service with the Indiana state police, the first ten years as a trooper and the next ten as a senior trooper, and then the final ten of her total thirty years on the force as a detective trooper, had made Claire a very suspicious person.

  Suspicious? Maybe that’s not the word. But, observant? Yes, for sure.

  Definitely not rich, or married for that matter, she thought. I never had time for relationships! Oh sure, once or twice I was close enough to entertain the idea of settling down. And, a bittersweet smile crossed her face when she remembered her first true love.

  Doug was a fellow state trooper. A shy, boyish type, he had the strong muscular build of a weight lifter, an oxymoron of a statement, but one that fit him to a tee. He loved her with all his heart and he wanted to marry, but he also wanted the dream stay-at-home wife.

  Claire couldn’t see herself doing that. She was young and ambitious, definitely not ready for any commitment that might stand in the way of her career.

  So, they ended their brief romance on a positive note and moved on, no looking back, no letting it interfere with their working relationship.

  At least that’s what we told each other! She dipped her head and glanced at the newspaper. She briefly entertained the thought of reading once again, but knew that she needed to finish what she started, so she braved the pain and resumed her thoughts.

  * * * * *

  And then there had been Greg. He had seemed different than other men she had dated, nice, maybe a little controlling, but nothing she had time to really put her finger on. She met him while Christmas shopping at the mall, where they both wound up at Blake and Norris bookstore, sharing a table as they sipped coffee and read their purchases.

  “This place is crowded. Mind if I sit with you?” a voice had asked.

  She had been attracted immediately to his gorgeous eyes--sea-green.

  God! You could swim in them!

  Right then and there she was instantly intrigued and wanted to get to know this man better. When he sat down after ordering his drink, she couldn’t help but notice the determined set of his jaw, the strong, lean lines of his body. He exuded male hormones.

  He immediately started flipping through his book, which she noticed was by an author she enjoyed too. But when she went back to reading her purchase, Claire quickly recognized and accepted the fact that her concentration was broken. She’d read a paragraph, look up, read another paragraph, glance over. Once or twice she observed that he was looking at her, too.

  Finally, their eyes locked and laughing, they realized they were more interested in each other than in what they were reading. So, they shoved the books aside and began to talk. It didn’t take them long to understand that they had a lot more in common than just the mutual attraction. Claire found Greg knowledgeable about a number of subjects and easy to engage in conversation.

  He asked her to dinner for that next Saturday. She accepted readily. They became better acquainted on their first date and started seeing as much of each other as their busy schedules would allow in the following weeks.

  “Played out like a bad novel…boy meets girl; girl gets her hopes up…”

  I really opened up to him, telling him about Doug…but, he didn’t share much of value with me…and, unfortunately, he never shared that he was married. Claire still blanched every time she remembered that part.

  She found out one day while standing in one of the aisles of the very same Blake and Norris bookstore when she heard a familiar voice talking to a female, “Hey hon, are you ready to leave yet?

  Claire peered around the end of the aisle and saw Greg. Confused, she looked closer to make sure it really was him, and that’s when she noticed the shiny gold of a wedding band on his finger.

  “Just let me pay for this book and I’ll be done,” the woman responded.

  And, Claire noted a ring on her finger, blazing with a sparkly brilliance that announced to the entire world that he was her man and she was his woman.

  Claire stood there frozen with shock, but hidden from view, until Greg and his wife left the bookstore.

  After that, when he called (and he did call—more than a few times!), she never answered the phone or returned his messages. She could have checked into his background a little more at the time, but she was embarrassed and didn’t want to know anything else about him.

  It was a dead issue to me—over—I was too ashamed to find out anymore.

  Finally he stopped trying to contact her altogether. Probably knew his little secret was out…or maybe he just found another unsuspecting victim, she fumed.

  Even though it was more than a few years ago, tears formed in her eyes, remembering this particularly painful time. It still hurt and was probably the reason she never committed to a serious relationship again. At the time her career as a detective trooper was in full swing and she devoted herself entirely to her job.

  * * * * *

  When she made detective ten years ago, Claire felt she had finally reached the pinnacle of her career. She had always found herself fascinated with the crime scene, literally pulled into the details of the investigation, even though she didn’t have the final authority or credentials to do more until she felt brave enough to apply for an opening in that division.

  Luckily, her supervisor, Corporal George Stanley, had seen this attention to detail, the interest in gathering evidence, and the ability to communicate with witnesses until she intractably drew them into her confidence. That’s why Corporal Stanley didn’t hesitate to recommend her to the “Chief” when she came to see him in his office.

  Captain Marvin Hennessey, the division commander at the time, had known Claire since she started on the force and had always wanted to give her a chance, but she had graciously turned him down for other promotional assignments in the hope that something would open up in the detective division.

>   “Chief, I’m just not ready yet,” she would tell him.

  Everyone called Marvin “Chief”. It seemed like even before he became a Captain he was called ‘Chief’. Marvin didn’t demand this title out of respect; he just earned it. And in everyone’s minds, he was the Chief long before he was promoted to the rank of Captain.

  “Claire, just tell me when you’re ready. We’ll make room for you if we have to.”

  “I know Chief. I’ll let you know.”

  But even as she gained more experience and honed her investigative skills, she waited her turn. She didn’t want to usurp anyone’s position. That was always the way Claire operated: unassuming, professional, and respectful of others.

  Then when Bernie Olson announced his retirement ten years ago, she knew the time was right and put in her application the next day.

  George Stanley read the paperwork while she stood by waiting for a response.

  Looking up finally, he said, “What took you so long!”

  Smiling, Claire recalled all the times when the two of them met in this office, going over accident reports and other business together. “Just couldn’t bring myself to do it, George. I knew I would miss the direct contact I have with you.”

  He chuckled but grew quiet as he thought about how much he enjoyed having her work specifically with him and how much he would miss the everyday shared camaraderie.

  “You’re a good senior trooper, Claire, but you deserve this chance…and we’ll still be working together. You know you can come to me any time.”

  Shaking hands, she noticed that he held on a little longer than normal. She knew that when she left the office, there would be a tinge of sadness overshadowing the excitement…for both of them.

  As she turned and faced the door, she stopped and considered the possibility of grabbing the application out of George’s hand. She shook her head. No, I need this opportunity. No turning back now.