Sobbing ferociously, Barbra was as intelligible as the arriving flights announcer at Detroit International airport. "It was... he's... are you sure ... why?!" she wailed.
Peter'd been a detective for the better part of 3 months, extending his beat-earned experience with OTJ education that he figured shouldn't have to cost the "customer", but that's of course the way it goes in these budget-conscious days. As he tried to focus on the salient details spluttering out, he couldn't help being distracted by the heaving and caving her labored breathing created. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but can we go over this a little slower please? Just so that I can get the facts straight?"
"If only...!"
Daniel, 14, sat, silently contemplating the scene playing out in front of them. Suddenly, under his breath, "Baby food! How much easier can it be?" Tonally, Samuel concurred, "Uhh-huh". Jason, querulous but nonetheless decisive, lay it out straight as was his nature: "We ain't moving 'til they turn tail, jack-asses. Sheesh!"
If looks could kill ... "Like hell!" Daniel ardently whispered, poking his gloved yet still frozen index finger into the brother's eyesight. "Why's the youngest always calling the shots?! This is simple, man! Plus, you wouldn't'a thought it at all wid-out the Dan- and Sam-man!"
"Shut up, cornhead. They'll hear you." Jason breathed, undeterred by his brother's ferocity. At 12 he was the boss and he (and they) knew it; they'd all agreed long ago that the twins must've split one brain between them when standing in line for intelligence; even though Dan had taken more than his 50% share, he was still 4 eggs short of a dozen. Jason's rather constant reinforcement of this - "where you leave that little ol' brain o' yours?" - was always resisted, and grudgingly accepted.
He didn't care though - he and Sam had braun over Jason, and he needed them. And Jason had the brain power. Well, such as it was. What he lacked in smarts he made up for in creativity. Some didn't appreciate his perchant for imagining the unimaginable, his desire to experience that which most wouldn't even contemplate. Their 4 older sisters and 1 older brother thought them reprehensible; Dorks! How damn boring they, and the rest of the world, are.
"If you can clear up one thing for me," Peter said, "I couldn't tell clearly when you last knew that Steven was in the house."
She exhaled slowly, intentionally, concentrating on the slow, circuitous twirl of smoke rising from her lips. Barbra used this approach regularly when trying to calm herself before responding to the particularly "challenging" moments of parenthood. "9:00, he ran through the kitchen just as Regis was coming on." Oh, shit, here come the sobs again... "I had to remind him to take his gloves, he never remembers until he's out the door. "
"Where do they like to play in this weather?" Peter was stretching, but he needed to keep her talking to get some hints. And some notes - he was embarrased at how blank his notpad was.
"The barn, the woods, down at the playground at school, where the slide is covered in snow. Shannon comes up from his house down along the lake and they'd stay out all day if they didn't get hungry." She took a long drag, exhaled quickly this time (screw it she thought) and picked up as if not having interrupted herself. "They always return by at least 2:00 though, hungry and freezing. If only..."
Yes, Peter'd heard her correctly the first time. He had uniforms at all those locations, but they were striking out all over. With the new snowfall, there should be fresh footprints; nothing though. Not too surprising as the prints from Barbra's house went up to the scraped roadway and then ... nothing.
Where'd they go? That was, of course, his job.
"They go to the bottom," he stated with authority, "Dad says that's 'cause it's warmer." Shannon couldn't believe they'd never thought of this before. But it was the first snow of the season, and he hadn't been an age-old fourth grader in the past. "Hey, if you come over here, by the cliff, it's pretty clear through the ice 'cause the sun's glare is gone. I think I can see a catfish!"
Steven gingerly half-slid, half-tiptoed across the ice, pulling his butt around to face the same way as Shannon. Shannon's full of it he thought - this ice was no clearer than the rest!
"Ok, dimwits, this is it! Both of you lift up that big-ass shale rock. But be quiet!" Jason directed.
"Jason, there ain' no see shails 'cept at the beach."
There were times when Jason Day could just strangle the twins. If they weren't so damn strong, maybe...
"No, jughead, shay-el is a rock, shey-uls come from the sea. Now shut up 'fore they get wise and pick up THAT rock!" he whispered as fervently as he could without being overheard. The two lemmings hoisted the heavy stone, edging it silently to the edge. "They's turned tail, Jase," probably the longest and most fully formed sentence of Sam's whole life. And perhaps the most impactive.
Jason gave a slight push.
It hit Peter rather suddenly. Christ, why'd it taken him so long to put it together? Experience, or lack thereof, he supposed. "Where'd you say Shannon lived?"
He always wondered how there could be so much snow and ice when the sun was so bright. Mom'd always told him how the sun was a giant ball of fire; it just didn't make sense that it could be bright in the sky, even if it was late afternoon, glistening everywhere and still maintaining a temperature cold enough to keep ice frozen and snow soft.
As he peered upward at the sun, the water swirled madly around Steven's head. Just exactly how he'd ended up in the water was a mystery, but the fact that he was there was not in question. And as he was putting the final closure on his consideration of the bright yellow orb, he came to the conscious realization that the water, too, was cold. Frigid in fact. And that this situation wasn't good. No, not at all.
A very loud yet muffled cracking shattered his thoughts, and then he was staring askance at a foot ... no a leg ... no, Shannon's pants, rushing to meet him. If only...
As quietly as field mice in the hunting frenzy that is Spring, Jason led the lemmings away from the cliff and through the woods back to the street. He stopped, briefly, to take in the bleeting sirens from up the road. With his fingers pressed to his lips, he motioned for all of them, the last three Day's, to cross the street. "We need to hide out over there 'til we know what that's all about."
"Uhh-huh" intoned Sam-man.
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