Chapter 2 #2
Once she’s gone, I turn to Officer Hannigan.
In the same commanding tone I used to use in the Marines, I say, “I don’t want to hear about Vienna being charged with some bullshit traffic violation.
She was on the shoulder of the road. Her hazards were on.
She was trying to help a damn dog lost in a snowstorm. She didn’t do anything wrong. Got it?”
I swear, I think Officer Nelson smirks. “She won’t be,” she tells me. “If anything, it’ll be the truck driver for speeding in bad conditions.”
“Good.” I glare at the driver, who’s about fifteen feet away, whining to another officer about reckless female drivers and crappy Vermont roads. As I guessed earlier, he wasn’t injured in the crash. But if I hear him bitch about Vienna much longer, I might be tempted to injure him myself.
Vienna comes hurrying back to us, carrying two large backpacks, one slung over each shoulder.
They’re the kind of backpacks I see hikers use when they’re going off for a weeks-long trip.
But these backpacks are worn and reinforced with strips of duct tape.
“Okay,” Vienna says breathlessly. “I’ve got everything. ”
I can’t put my finger on it, but something about Vienna strikes me as off. Not in a dangerous, serial killer way, but like a collection of puzzle pieces that don’t fit together.
But it’s not my problem, I remind myself. Whether the pieces fit together or not.
Besides, I’ve already helped enough, I silently add while trying not to notice the lost expression on Vienna’s face. Or how the large backpacks seem far too big for her body. I stopped. I helped rescue the dog. I stayed when I could have insisted on leaving.
But shit. There’s a part of me that wants to figure her out.
“Is the dog going to be okay?” Vienna asks, her gaze moving to Officer Hannigan’s patrol car, where the dog is sitting in the back. “Will he go somewhere warm? Safe?”
For the first time since he arrived, the male officer softens. “Yeah. He’ll be fine. I’ll drop him off at the shelter on the way back to the station.”
Vienna turns to him. “The shelter?”
“Barks n’ Bliss,” he explains. “It’s a dog rescue run by a local couple—Rory and Gage McKay. They’ll take good care of the dog. Get him warm, fed, scan him for a microchip and hopefully find the family.”
She bites her lip. “What if he doesn’t have a family?”
There’s a sad note to her voice that plucks a chord inside me.
“Then they’ll find him a new home,” Officer Harrigan answers. “And they’ll take good care of him until they do.”
“They will,” Officer Nelson adds. “I know Rory and Gage pretty well. They’re good people. And they love those dogs.”
Vienna stares at the dog for a second before nodding. “Okay. Good.”
“So,” Officer Nelson continues, “Do you live in town? I can drop you there on the way to the station.”
“No.” Vienna shakes her head. “I just moved here. So I haven’t found a place yet.”
“Are you staying at one of the hotels?”
Another quick shake of her head. “No.” She pauses. “I was going to find a place. But with the snow…”
I’m hit by that strange sensation of off-ness again.
If Vienna was looking for a hotel, why was she headed out of Bliss?
Unless she was on her way to the next closest town north of here, but I can’t think of another hotel for close to thirty miles.
And with the weather like this, why wouldn’t she have stopped in Bliss for the night?
Without thinking it through, I hear myself asking Vienna, “Do you work in Bliss?”
She turns to me with an almost uncertain look in her eyes. After a brief hesitation, she says, “Yes. I just started working at The Laughing Goat. The farm-to-table restaurant in town…”
“I know of it.” I haven’t been there, because I never go out to eat anymore. But I’ve driven past the place, and it seems nice enough.
“Alright, it’s all set.” The tow truck driver jogs towards us, his boots kicking up small drifts of snow as he goes. He jerks his head at Vienna’s car, now up on the flatbed. “Are we good to go?”
Officer Nelson nods at him. “Yeah. Ellicott’s, right?”
“Yup.” The driver glances at Vienna. “It’s just on the west end of town. Call Max in the morning, and he’ll let you know when he can take a look at it.”
“Thanks,” Vienna replies. Then she hesitates. “Do I… need to pay you?”
“Nah, the insurance company will do that,” he says. Then he turns back to the officers. “I’m heading out. It’s cold as a wolf’s frozen tit out here. And my wife’s warming the bed for when I get home.”
Without waiting for a response, he lopes off. Less than a minute later, his truck is only a flash of taillights dimly glowing through the still-falling snow.
From beside me, Vienna says quietly, “I’m not sure I’ve heard the weather described that way before.”
A chuckle escapes before I can stop it. “I’ve heard some interesting descriptions,” I tell her. “But you’re right. I haven’t heard that one.”
Officer Nelson presses her lips together, like she’s trying not to laugh. “It’s certainly… creative.” Then she looks at Vienna. “Alright, let’s get out of here. Officers Hendrick and Killian can finish up with the truck driver. And Caleb—” she glances at me. “You’re good to go.”
I should be relieved.
But shit. Part of me isn’t.
“Come on,” Officer Nelson says as she puts her hand on Vienna’s arm. “We’ll head into Bliss. You can stay at the Bliss B and B for the night. Or the Blissful Sleep Motel. I’m sure one of them has a room available.”
An indecipherable expression moves across Vienna’s face. “Okay,” she says. Then she turns to me. “Caleb.”
An odd emptiness carves out my chest. Almost like I miss her already. “Vienna.”
She touches my hand. “Thank you. For helping. And staying. And just… thanks.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to give her my number. To tell her to call me if she needs anything. Maybe even offer to go out to Max’s shop with her, in case she’s nervous about going alone.
But I don’t. Instead, I just mutter, “You’re welcome. Stay safe.” And as I watch her walk off with Officer Nelson, I can’t help wondering if I made the wrong decision.
I’m not looking for friends, I tell myself as I trudge back to my car. I’m happier alone. And I’m sure Vienna will be perfectly fine without me.
By the time I reach my car, I’ve almost convinced myself.
Then her purse tumbles to the ground, reminding me I never gave it back to her.
“Shit.” I quickly scoop it up and brush off the snow now coating it.
A sparkly pink wallet winks up at me along with a shiny gold tube I’m guessing is lipstick.
Ducking down again, I grab the two items, wipe them off on my jacket, and drop them inside the purse.
Then I slide into the car and yank the door shut behind me.
“Shit,” I mutter. “She forgot her purse.”
From what I know about women, their purses are necessary. And I’m sure, had the circumstances been different, Vienna would never have forgotten to get it back from me. But she was stressed, upset… I can understand how even something this important might have slipped her mind.
As I stare at the small purse sitting on my lap, I debate what to do with it.
Giving it to one of the remaining officers would be the most practical thing to do. They could easily get it back to Vienna, and I could go home with my hands clean of this whole messed up evening.
Or.
I could bring the purse back to Vienna myself. See if she’s really doing okay. Take this as a sign that I should give her my number.
But I’m happier alone.
A beat later, I wonder, Am I?
Before dinner at Enzo’s, it wouldn’t have been a question. Alone is easier. Less complicated. Being alone means less chance of getting hurt or betrayed.
But Enzo seemed so happy. Married with a cute little kid and two friendly dogs, working with his best friends for his own security company… I doubt he’s ever alone. And I doubt he’d change a thing.
And Vienna.
There was just something about her.
Shit. I want to see her again.
You could just go to The Laughing Goat, my grouchy inner hermit argues as I drive slowly back into town.
She’s probably a waitress, so you can sit in her section if you want to see her so bad.
There’s no reason to track her down to return her purse personally.
Especially after ten o’clock at night in a snowstorm.
But instead of listening; for once, I shut it down. The truck can handle it, I retort silently. And who knows when the police would have time to return Vienna’s purse. I can drive right to the bed and breakfast or the motel—
My jaw clenches at the thought of Vienna staying at the Blissful Sleep Motel. It’s not bad, exactly, but it’s not a place I’d choose for her to stay, either. Not with the poorly-lit parking lot and peeling paint and overgrown shrubs that a grown man could lurk behind.
She’d be better off at the Bliss Bed and Breakfast. Owned by friends of my parents, it’s the far better choice. But it’s also more expensive. And something about the duct tape on Vienna’s backpacks makes me think she might not have much money.
Well, I decide, the easiest way to find out where Vienna’s staying is to ask. So, as I near the center of downtown—well, the small strip of stores and one traffic light that constitutes downtown Bliss—I pull out my phone and call the station.
I’m expecting to get the runaround when I ask to be put through to Officer Nelson, and that’s exactly what I get. The officer who answers—Matt Gillis—tells me in a harried tone, “It’s crazy out there tonight. Accidents everywhere. You want to talk to Officer Nelson, come in tomorrow.”
But I know Matt Gillis, because he’s been by my garage to look at my collection of vintage snowmobiles before. Even offered to buy one of my Yamahas, but at significantly less than I wanted. Before, I gave him a flat no. But now…
“I’ll give you the 1972 Yamaha for six K,” I tell him. “That’s less than you offered. Just put me through to Officer Nelson, and it’s yours.”
A minute later, with a verbal deal made, he connects me with Sage.
“It’s Caleb Davidson,” I tell her without preface. “I need to know where you brought Vienna. She forgot to get her purse from me, and I want to get it back to her right away.”
A silent beat passes before she replies, “And you didn’t bring it by the station, why?”
“You guys are busy with the weather. I can get to her quicker.” At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
I’m surprised by her laugh. “If you say so.” Then she adds, “I brought her to the B and B. You’ll still have to convince the Millers to let you talk to her at this time of night. They’re very protective of their guests.”
True. But they’ve also known me since I was in diapers. And they’re still friends with my parents, even visit them once a year in Florida. So I’m hopeful the Millers will grant me a favor.
And they would, if Vienna were there.
“I’m sorry, Caleb,” Mr. Miller says after I make my request. “But we don’t have a Vienna here.”
“Maybe she registered under a different name?” I suggest. “She has light brown hair and hazel eyes and she’s maybe… five-three or five-four? Petite. She would have been wearing a red puffer coat.”
His response is immediate. “Nope. We haven’t checked in any new guests today. And we don’t have anyone who looks like that. Maybe she’s staying somewhere else.”
Well, shit.
If she’s not at the B and B, where is she?
Turning left at the traffic light—blinking red, as it always does after nine PM—I start driving towards the Blissful Sleep Motel over on the west side of town. I can’t imagine why Vienna would leave the B and B and walk the half mile to the motel, but there’s nowhere else in town to stay.
Maybe she realized it was too expensive?
Maybe she changed her mind about staying in Bliss at all?
But I have her purse. With her wallet in it. The Millers might have let her stay with a promise of paying later, but would Kellogg Waters, the owner of the Blissful Sleep Motel? Would a hotel in any other town allow it?
I don’t think so.
And I’m worried.
No matter how many times I tell myself on the way to the motel that I have no reason to be, that Vienna’s not my problem, that she’s an adult who can take care of herself, it doesn’t make me stop worrying.
Then I arrive at the Blissful Sleep Motel to find the sign boldly proclaiming that it’s closed until April.
“Shit!” I curse as I pull into the deserted parking lot, my tire tracks the only marks in an otherwise pristine sheet of white. “Where the fuck is she?”
I shift my truck into park and scan the lot, as if Vienna’s red coat is about to magically appear. But it doesn’t. Because she’s not here. And I have no idea where she might have gone.
“Shit,” I repeat, as that sensation of off-ness grows even stronger. My gut twists the same way it used to before a mission went sideways; my body knowing before my brain that something was about to go terribly wrong.
Right now, something’s wrong.
I know it.
And I’m not going home until I find her.