Chapter 1

The wet snow, falling in huge flakes, seemed to appear suddenly, as if by magic, out of the pitch-blackness above into the bright headlight beams below, there to dance to the vagaries of the troubled wind before gently adding itself to the eight inch layer already on the ground or the deeper drifts piled at random.

Occasionally a stray tendril of the wind, which had started in Alaska, would arrive, fly down the old logging road on moaning wings, to slap at the fake fur collar, on the real leather Patrol Jacket. There it would deposit its quota of wet snow, and promptly melt to cascade in small but persistently cold rivulet down Sheriff Roberts' spine.

Roberts felt the goose flesh rising on his arms and legs with the hair on the back of his neck stirring.

Although he was chilled, it was not from the cold because he was sweating. Nor did it have a great deal to do with the emaciated, frozen, nude male corpse before him (Sheriff Roberts had seen more then a few corpses in his time), because it looked almost peaceful, even if it was awfully skinny. The reaction, rather, had occurred when the County Corner informed him that the corpse might be empty of fluids, which confirmed what the Sheriff had thought all along.

Tommy Daniels should know. He was not only the local County Coroner; he was a Licensed Mortician, as well.

One thing for sure, Sheriff Roberts thought as he brought his stocky, muscular body under control, Edger Roberts does not believe in Vampires!

Later, what passed for dawn was doing what it could to illuminate the gray and white landscape, which should have been a good advertisement for this part of the Boston Mountains (better known as the Ozarks), but to Sheriff Roberts tired eyes it only looked cold and dreary.

The snow sifted, the frozen ground exposed for twenty feet in all directions, the scene documented with measurements to back up the photographs and Tommy Daniels had seen to the transport of the body to Harrison over the, twisting, winding, up and down, snow covered, treacherous fifty miles, for an autopsy.

Sheriff Roberts, or "Pate," as only very close friends called him and only since his hair had started to turn up missing in action, had heard somewhere that it was not that the mountains were so high but that the valleys were so deep. Pate figured that if you ever slid off the road, and were unlucky enough to drop into one of those valleys, you might begin to appreciate the gravity of the statement.

Some of the valleys were over fifteen hundred feet deep, not that you seriously had to worry about traveling all the way to the bottom, because rocks or trees would stop you long before that.

Usually that stoppage was permanent. Pate was tired, wet, cold, hungry, and he was frustrated, baffled, bordering on angry. Worse, he had run out of coffee some time back. In spite of an extremely careful, methodical search, not one unusual item had turned up, not a wheel tracks or footprint to be found in or on the frozen ground, not even of the boy or his dog!

That thought reminded him that, he still needed to visit the Edwards home at Spring Creek on his way back to his office in Marshall, and his first chance to get warm and dry in the last twelve hours.

Slogging through the thickly piled snow away from the busy crime scene, Pate spotted the tall lanky forms of the Davies twins, Bill and Jim, two of his best deputies, standing at the access point by their vehicles. The only way to tell them apart was by Bill's handlebar mustache.

As he approached, Pate said, "I hate it but, with Gabe sick, Paul on vacation out of state and Trommer tied up in Little Rock, here's what we'll have to do. Jim, go home, shower, change clothes, eat, stock up on coffee and come back to relieve Bill as fast as you can because he'll need to rest up for patrol tonight. Then hang around until the State boys are finished. I do not think they will find anything but they might. When they get finished call me and let me know what they want to do."

Both Deputies answered with, "Can do," and, as Pate got into his Japanese manufactured SUV, he heard one of the twins say something about, "It was better than a sharp stick in the eye."

In spite of how tired he was, Pate had to smile. He knew he had the best deputies a man could ask for, and not just, because they were his friends. He had to admit, though, that sometimes they tended to sound like dumb hillbillies. He chuckled. Better, make that sometimes into often.

In spite of how they sounded, they were both highly intelligent, graduated from State with Honors, Bill in accounting, but he found it too dull, and Jim in Political Science, but he found politics too demeaning and he refused to lie.

All six-law enforcement officers for the county had graduated from the State Police Academy in Camden including Pate. As an elected official, he was not required to attend but he did not believe in having someone do what he would not be willing to do himself.

As Pate backed down the old logging road because the woods were too thick and the road too narrow to turn around, he had to admit he was getting used to his new 4X4. The Quorum Court, in their collective wisdom and with the County Judge's input, had purchased the bright red monstrosity despite his suggestions. He thought he might learn to live with it and, possibly, even come to like it in time. If he could just get them to have, it repainted. He was tired of being mistaken for the Fire Chief!

Rafe Blannder knew he was in trouble. No one in the group would take his calls.

He was broke and he did not dare go home.

He had driven as far South as he could, just barely outrunning the snow.

The money he had in his wallet had only taken him about four hundred miles to El Dorado.

He had called his mother, collect, from a pay phone and begged her to wire him his savings, explaining that, "He had accidentally gotten off without his checkbook."

She had finally agreed to wire the money when she went to town in the afternoon but not before telling him that, "He was a damn fool and she wondered if he would even be able to find his way out of the phone booth."

He had taken it without talking back but his jaws still hurt from clinching his teeth together.

Anna Edwards was of the opinion that the ten years she'd had with Jake, had been precious, but not nearly long enough, and she had looked forward to so many more.
It had been two years, three weeks, and at noon, five days since she and Jamie had found Jake's body on Taylor Hill.

Jake had gone to cut up some dead trees for firewood behind the house, about a half a mile away, while Jamie and Anna finished up some chores. They had planned to bring lunch, and after eating, help load the truck for the return trip home. Instead, when they arrived, all was still and, although they found the truck, Jake was nowhere around.

They finally saw his hand, fingers curled as if reaching, sticking out from under a huge pine tree lying on the ground. The chainsaw lying on the ground nearby was still hot. To this day, no one had any idea why Jake decided to cut the tree down since he had been cutting up the dry deadwoods that were already down.

The Coroner-Tommy Daniels and old Sheriff Mackenzie had concluded that it was an accident.

All Anna knew was, that for her and Jamie's world had been shattered.

Jamie didn't say much but she knew he missed his dad because, as far as Jamie was concerned, the sun didn't dare show its face until Jake said it could and Anna, had begun to think it was true because the sun hadn't shone for her in a long, long time.

Even now, if Anna closed her eyes, she could smell Jake's aftershave lotion, feel his kisses on her body, as his hands caressed her, and she ached with longing.

Anna had told Jamie not to go hunting after the accident, not because he didn't know how, but because she was afraid of losing him too. She knew it was irrational, Jamie had minded her about not hunting for all but the last six hours, and she probably wouldn't have scolded Jamie too much, even if he hadn't come in half scared to death. As soon as she could get Jamie calmed down enough to get a clear picture of what had happened she had called 911.

After the deputy from the Sheriff's Office arrived and Jamie showing where the body was, He had been far too excited and upset to go to bed. Therefore, they had set by the fireplace drinking coffee and hot chocolate, talking until Jamie couldn't hold his eyes open any longer.

He'd slept until just a moment ago, when Hoot decided Jamie had rested enough and demanded that he get up.

Hoot. What a name for a dog!

It seemed more like yesterday rather than four years back that Jake had brought home the inquisitive little bundle of fur, all bright eyes and cold nose and teased Jamie that, "The dog probably wouldn't be worth a hoot."

Hoot he was from then on and he and Jamie were inseparable.

"Are you hungry?" Anna called to Jamie.

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered, as he and Hoot came into the kitchen.

"What would you like?" she asked.

Jamie sat down at the table, Hoot at his feet. "How about some bacon, hash brown potatoes, eggs, and biscuits?" he said hopefully.

"No problem." She smiled at him. "I thought you might be hollow when you woke up, so I got enough fixings to feed an army and, if you're full, all you have to do is tell me, When!"

"That's great!" crowed Jamie and Hoot barked his agreement.

As Anna turned to begin cooking, Jamie said, "Mom, I'm sorry. I know you were just worried something might happen to me."

At this, Anna thought again, of how much like Jake he was, almost able to read her thoughts.

Jamie got up from the table came over to the counter and put his arms around her.

Goodness, She thought. He's nearly as tall as I am, strong from working on the place, and more mature for his age than a person would expect.

She knew, at that moment, that she would have to start turning loose and let Jamie grow.

"I love you," she said.

Jamie looked up into her eyes and said, "I miss him too Mom."

Then they just hugged each other and cried, to mourn their loss a finale time. A healing had begun and never again would it hurt as intensely as it had.

Anna didn't know how long they had been standing there but Hoot's yelp at the front door announced that someone was coming. Stepping over to the window, Anna saw a bright red 4X4 pull up to the house, through the still falling snow, and plow to a stop in the drifts out front next to her Ford Bronco.

As someone got out and came around the front of the vehicle, she could see a badge but the person's face obscured because of the hat brim tilted into the wind. When he finally made it to the enclosed front porch, he began knocking the snow off his clothes and boots.

Opening the front door, Anna called out, "Hello, come on in before you freeze."

As the Officer raised his head, the first thing to appear was a flash of teeth in a big smile; the next were eyes as green as grass sparkling with dew on a fresh spring day.

Anna realized that he had said something but she had missed it and said, "What's that?"

She heard him repeat, "Too late," as he came across the porch.

Boy, she thought, for someone as solid as he looks, he sure moves light on his feet.

Stepping back and recovering her composure, Anna motioned him in and shut the door after him. As he took off his hat, she saw the brown hair, what there was of it, was shot through with gray, and plastered to his skull. He was still smiling easily but, since he was closer, Anna noticed how exhausted he looked, and that his eyes were raw around the edges.