Page 39 of The Ice Sisters

Her breath caught as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. No Barbara. But the room held a baby crib beneath the window and two sets of bunk beds on the opposite side. The beds were adorned with pink and purple comforters. Dolls and children’s toys filled a bookcase, and a stuffed bear was nestled in the crib with a baby blanket.

The room had also been ransacked. Pictures and photographs lay broken and scattered all over the floor as if they’d been ripped off the wall in a fit of rage.

According to Derrick’s background check, Barbara didn’t have family. Maybe she babysat for some of the kids at the preschool?

Was she planning to adopt or foster? Had she fostered in the past?

Ellie searched her desk and found a laptop. Of course, it required a passcode which she did not have so she searched the desk drawers and located a teacher’s planner for the school where Barbara taught.

She quickly flipped through it but nothing suspicious caught her eye. Still, she’d take it for analysis. There was another planning book, a personal one listing dates of doctor appointments, dinners and meetings.

Next, she checked out the rest of the house. She passed a bedroom with a queen bed draped in a green quilt. A few articles of clothing had been tossed in a chair in the corner, but there was no sign of Barbara or an altercation. The master bath held toiletries, the shower curtain drawn.

She took a deep breath, half expecting a body in the tub, but when she eased it open, the shower/tub was empty. She glanced back at the room again. It had been searched as well.

Exactly what was the intruder looking for?

As she pivoted, she spotted the mirror and froze. It looked as if something red like lipstick had been smeared on the mirror. She studied it, thinking someone had written something there, but couldn’t make out any words… as if Barbara had tried to clean it off.

Footsteps echoed from the front of the house and Ellie looked up to see Derrick.

“Call an ERT,” Ellie told him. “There was an intruder in this house and Barbara’s gone.”

FORTY-FIVE

EMERALD FALLS

Mazie watched her mama crawl into the corner of the alley, her stomach somersaulting. It wasn’t night yet, but her eyes were droopy with sleep. Her cheekbones were sharp and jutted out, her skin a yellowish color, her hands shaking as she tugged her blanket around her.

Hating to see her mama’s hair so ratty, she tried to finger comb the dry strands but Mama shoved her hand away. Blinking back tears, Mazie walked to the edge of the alley to watch the people in town. Fathers and mothers holding hands and laughing. Two boys racing to make a snowman. Their father pitching in.

Her heart gave a pang. Sometimes she wished she’d had a daddy. If she did, he’d help her mama now. And maybe he’d help her build a snowman, too.

She’d never seen anything as pretty as this place. Other kids sipped hot chocolate and ran toward the ice cream truck and a family of three dashed onto the ice-skating rink. Carolers sang from a stage near Santa’s workshop.

Mazie glanced back at her mama. She was already snoring away, her thin coat and blanket dragged up over her face.

Her stomach growled. Mazie snuck through the crowd pausing to inhale the aromas from the food trucks. A gray-haired woman stood handing out samples of tacos near the taco stand, and Mazie darted her way. The woman handed her a mini taco, and Mazie gobbled it down. An odd smile twitched in the woman’s eyes as she looked Mazie over.

Shame burned Mazie’s cheeks. The womanknew.She must have seen her with her mama.

Wanting to escape, she started to turn away, but the woman touched her shoulder gently then handed her two more tacos. “We’re shutting down soon,” she said softly. “These won’t be good tomorrow.”

Mazie felt her eyes grow moist, but she whispered thanks, grabbed the tacos then darted through the crowd. She slipped behind the stage and forced herself to eat slowly to make the second taco last then wrapped the last one in a napkin to take back to her mama. When she finished, she licked her fingers then darted a look toward Santa’s workshop. The line was starting to dwindle so she eased her way toward it and fell in line behind a little girl about four with long golden curls.

Self-conscious, Mazie smoothed the strands of her shaggy auburn hair, working the tangles out with her fingers.

A mother and baby moved toward Santa, but the baby started screaming and the mother laughed and decided to do without a photo. The blond girl went next, skipping up to sit in Santa’s lap.

Santa looked down at the child with a smile. “Ho, ho, ho. What do you want Santa to bring you?”

The girl rattled off a list of toys, ending with a doll house. One of the elves handed her a candy cane as she hopped down and the elf motioned it was Mazie’s turn. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t gotten in line, but the elf nudged her arm and she walked over to Santa.

He patted his lap, and she crawled onto it, feeling jumpy. He gave her a strange look as if he was looking inside her head, and she moved to get down.

But he rubbed her back and smiled at her. “Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas. What’s your name, honey?”

“Mazie,” she whispered.

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