Winter of Secrets Read Online Free

when you’ve been hoping for a miracle. Particularly on Christmas morning. See you, Adam. Give Norman a scratch for me.”
    “Sure, Molly. I’ll do that.”
    Constable Smith waded into the crowd. She felt Adam Tocek’s brown eyes on her back.
    She didn’t turn around.
    ***
    After the car in the river, things began to slow down. The bars were all closed, so there was nothing to do on that front. The storm continued, unabated, but by one o’clock most everyone was off the roads, helped by the early closing of the bars, and there were no more vehicular incidents.
    “I think the convenience store on Aspen is still open,” Evans said, as they were heading back to the office. “I feel like a chocolate bar. Want one?”
    All she wanted was a bathroom.
    “No, thanks.”
    A figure passed by the truck, as indistinct in the swirling snow and black night as a cloaked Sherlock Holmes moving under fog and gaslight. But Smith recognized the walk, which leaned slightly to the left. The result of a childhood injury, apparently an accident, but the parents had been too drunk to take the girl to the hospital until several days had passed.
    Smith hopped out of the truck. “Hey, Lorraine, wait up a sec.”
    The girl turned. A sneer settled over her face when she saw who was calling, but she waited for Smith to catch up.
    “What are you doing out?” Foolish question. Lorraine LeBlanc, sixteen years old, daughter of the town’s number one drunks, went where she wanted, when she wanted. It wasn’t as if anyone cared.
    “Fuck off, will ya,” was the girl’s customary greeting.
    “It’s sure cold,” Smith said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the wind blow like this. Have you?”
    Lorraine shrugged. She let down her guard, just a fraction. “It’s pretty bad. They say someone went into the river. And didn’t come out.”
    Even on Christmas morning the town grapevine was working.
    No one had come out. If by that one meant no one alive, Lorraine was right. The car had been hauled out of the frozen river. Smith had cleared the onlookers while Evans held up a blanket to shield the coroner from public view. The coroner had leaned into the car, done what he had to do, and pronounced them dead. Two young males, looking to be in their early or mid twenties, faces as white as the falling snow, lips blue. They were both clean shaven, with short hair. Smith and Evans had looked at the cold faces and discreetly shaken their heads at each other. No one either of them recognized. The men had been removed from the vehicle and zipped into body bags on waiting stretchers. The ambulance headed up the hill, toward the hospital, not bothering to switch on the siren. The remnants of the crowd watched in respectful silence.
    “What are you doing here, Lorraine?” Smith waved her arms in the air. “The town’s shut down. Everyone’s gone home. The bars and restaurants are all closed. Even the dealers have left.”
    “I’m not looking for a dealer, Molly.”
    “I didn’t mean you were. I just meant there’s nothing happening here. It’s Christmas morning. Hey, I’ve an idea.” She spoke before she thought. “I’m off shift soon, heading home. Why don’t you come with me? I mean it’s just me, my place, but warm and quiet. I’ll pull out the couch to make up a bed.”
    Lorraine’s upper lip twisted. “As if,” she said, “I’d go anywhere with a dyke cop. I value my reputation, you know.”
    “It’s not like that.” And it wasn’t. Molly Smith had a BA in Social Work from the University of Victoria. She’d been about to get her MSW when she’d dropped out and, after a year of aimless wandering, applied to the Trafalgar City Police.
    Police and social workers sometimes stood on opposite sides of the fence. And, as if she didn’t have enough problems, Molly Smith occasionally found herself straddling said fence.
    “I have a boyfriend, Molly. A nice guy, okay? I’m going to his place now.” Lorraine’s make-up was