[Critique Group 1] Marcia's October submission

[Marcia Wick]

2015 words

 

Chapter 19

Frozen Out

 

Robbie patrolled the crowds along Main Street Saturday morning during the
start of Doe Lake's Winter Ice Fest parade. From across the street, he
watched Claudia photograph the spectacle. The high school band, marching in
new uniforms, was followed by a brigade of volunteer firefighters tossing
candy off the back of the town's newest fire engine. That year's Ice Queen,
the librarian, waved at spectators as she floated down Main Street on her
throne chiseled from ice. 

 

The Millwood Furniture float featuring a fisherman snoozing on a plush
leather couch prompted laughter from onlookers.  The flatbed trailer was
pulled by a pick-up with Karl behind the wheel. The truck was moving slow
enough for Officer Braun to hoist himself into the cab beside Karl.

 

"Okay if I ride along, Karl?" Robbie asked the startled driver. "I've been
wanting to talk to you about what's going on at Millwood."

 

Karl's handlebar mustache twitched in surprise. 

 

"Officer Braun.well, I'll be. What's going on at Millwood?" Karl stared at
Robbie in astonishment.

 

"Just between us," Robbie assured Karl, "I've heard someone is harassing
Barringer at work. You and Veronica are tight, right?"

 

Karl giggled nervously, "You've got the wrong idea if you think I'm
interested in Veronica that way." 

 

"Naw, Karl. I've got your number." Robbie waved a hand dismissively.  "I
mean you and Veronica are pals, right? You go out to lunch with her
sometimes, right? Just thought you might know if someone at Millwood is
bothering her."

 

"Well, sometimes Hamilton hassles Veronica, but that's no big deal. They're
competing for the same promotion," Karl said.

 

"Do you think Hamilton is just hassling Barringer, or would she actually
threaten Veronica wit harm?" Robbie watched Karl's face to gauge his
reaction.

 

Karl stared straight ahead and pumped the brakes to keep his truck a safe
distance from the Ice Queen float. They were nearing the end of the parade
route.

 

"Naw, Michelle is strong-willed but she can get what she wants without
hurting Veronica," Karl answered. "She'll simply strong-arm Reed and Roberts
to get the job. They know she's got dirt on Millwood."

 

"What kind of dirt?" Robbie considered this new information.

 

"Michelle's been at Millwood a long time," Karl shrugged. "Who knows what
she knows."

 

"So, that means Reed and Roberts don't have any reason to threaten Veronica
either. If anything, they'd be after Hamilton to keep her quiet, right?"

 

"There's one other guy at Millwood who pesters Veronica, but Veronica can
handle him, no problem," Karl said.

 

"You mean Pete? He's got the hots for her all right."

 

"Yeah, but Veronica just brushes him off. She doesn't need any help beating
off unwanted advances, but you already know that ." Karl glanced my way,
giggling again.

 

"Guess this is my stop," Robbie said, hopping out of the cab. First Pete,
then Michelle, now Karl knew Veronica had refused Officer Braun's advances.
Adding to his frustration, Robbie wasn't any closer to tagging Veronica's
stalker than before.

After the parade, contestants packed the Doe Lake Bar and Grill to pick up
registration materials. Shoulder-to-shoulder, the local boys bragged over a
beer about the one that got away. 

 

Claudia caught Robbie's eye from across the room. She was cornered by Pete
at the bar. Before Robbie could press his way past the line to reach her,
she shoved her half-empty glass of beer across the bar and ducked out the
back door. Talk about the one that got away, Robbie muttered. Claudia might
have dodged him that day, but she couldn't freeze him out forever, Robbie
thought. If he took first place, she'd be forced to interview him for The
Messenger the next day. Prizes would be presented to the winners at the fish
fry following the ice fishing competition.

 

Meanwhile, Veronica waved Robbie over to her table. He nudged her current
admirer out of the way.

 

"Looks like you need a refill, bud," he said, tucking a five dollar bill
into the guy's flannel shirt pocket.

 

"Have a seat, Robbie, and give me the quick run down," Veronica said. "It's
noisy enough no one should hear us talking. Have you figured out who is
hounding me, and why?"

 

"I gotta say, Veronica, you've made a few enemies at Millwood. Michelle
despises you, but it sounds like she doesn't need you out of the way to get
what she wants. And Pete is too afraid of his own shadow to go after what he
wants," Robbie said. "That leaves Reed and Roberts, but they seem to like
having you around."

 

"Is that all you've got, Braun?" Veronica tapped her manicured nails on the
table in irritation.

 

"Well, I suppose another rival or a jilted lover could be playing games with
you," Robbie suggested. "Maybe someone will get nervous knowing I'm
investigating and do something stupid to give himself away."

 

"Something stupid? Like coming after me? Thanks for nothing, Robbie. You're
nothing but a poser, a wanna-be cop that can't be counted on to do the job,"
Veronica hissed. 

 

"Now Veronica, could be you're making a big deal over nothing," Officer
Braun said in his defense.

 

"You think I'm making something out of nothing, Braun? Another note was
delivered to my hotel room in New York. Someone sure is going to a lot of
trouble for nothing."

 

"I haven't given up yet, Veronica. Is there someone else you can think of
who might have it out for you?" Robbie said. "Get this - Michelle thinks it
might even be me - you know, since you threw me off. That's a laugh, right?"

 

"Do you see me laughing, Robbie? Come to think about it, you do have the
opportunity, and the motive. You knew where I was staying in Manhattan.
Maybe I was wrong to trust you. Maybe I should warn Claudia."

 

Veronica shoved her chair back and pushed her way past Pete. Robbie hoped
he'd been standing out of ear shot.

 

Pete slugged his beer and said, "Looks like you're on a roll, Robbie. Isn't
that the second doe that got away from you today? Can't wait to see how well
you do on the ice tomorrow."

 

At dawn, Robbie shouldered his way through the crowd gathered at the
pavilion. Participants were maneuvering snowmobiles loaded with supplies to
the starting point. Volunteers were setting up tables for the fish fry.

 

"I'll check you in right here, Robbie," said Mr. K who was manning the
registration table. "You looking to hook the big one this year?" he asked.

 

"You know it," Robbie said. In fact, Officer Braun was intending to hook a
30-inch pike and set a new record. His personal best was a two-foot catch
the previous year. This year, he had his eye on first place, worthy of a new
1978 Ford pick-up truck, or that year's second place prize, a spiffy
Winchester rifle. Third place only netted a one hundred dollar shopping
spree at Doe Lake Bait and Tackle - good enough for a third-rate loser like
Pete, not him, Robbie thought.

 

Rules for the contest were strict. After the judges inspected his gear and
nailed an entry number to the door of his plywood shanty, Robbie revved up
his Arctic Cat, prepared to haul his equipment to his preferred spot on the
ice. 

 

>From his vantage point, Robbie scoped out the competition. He spotted
Claudia near the registration table interviewing Pete, of all people.
Wearing woolen mittens, she fumbled with her pencil and notebook. 

 

That should be me, Robbie thought, but he'd blown it with Claudia. He
flinched, remembering her harsh words with regret.

 

"Why did I think I could trust either one of you? Get out," Claudia had
cried.

 

Robbie then noticed Veronica. She stood alone on the fringe of the crowd,
watching Pete and Claudia. She'd frozen him out, too. Her icy words echoed
in his mind.

 

"Thanks for nothing, Robbie. You're nothing but a poser, a wanna-be cop that
can't be counted on to do the job."

 

Robbie shivered. He turned back to the task at hand, determined to shake off
their cold rebuke. 

 

At the eight o'clock whistle, he dragged his small home for the day onto the
ice and situated it above a deep spot in a cove that he favored. After he
off-loaded his supplies, he steered his snowmobile back to the shore. Before
Robbie was off the ice, Pete cut him off. His Ski-Doo glanced Robbie's
runner.

 

"You asshole," Braun yelled. He hopped off his cat and grabbed Pete by the
collar. Pete landed face down on the ice. Sputtering, he sat up and wiped
his bloody nose on the sleeve of his orange hunting coat.

 

"Watch where you're going, Petey. You don't want to get in my way today,"
Robbie growled. 

 

"You don't own the lake, Braun," Pete said, scrambling to his feet. 

 

"I should have you disqualified for reckless driving," Robbie shouted over
his shoulder as he stomped back to his snowmobile.

 

"You threatening me, Braun?"

 

"You got that right," Robbie retorted. "Better be careful - you might fall
through a fishing hole and get trapped under the ice."

 

"You're gonna regret pushing me around," Pete muttered. 

 

Robbie bent to inspect his snowmobile and moaned under his breath. Both
Claudia and Veronica were observing the commotion. Fat chance either woman
would warm up to him now with yet one more reason to avoid him. 

 

Even so, Robbie didn't intend to sit alone in the cold. There were plenty of
fish in the lake, so to speak. After Claudia and Veronica had walked out on
Robbie at the bar, he had snagged Chicky to keep him company on the ice.

 

Inside his shed, Robbie raised the trap door and began driving the working
edge of a spud through the foot-thick ice. He worked the long metal pole in
a circle to carve a large hole. The loosened ice dropped into the lake when
he gave it a good kick. Black water cold as hell kissed the frigid air.
Next, Robbie carved three smaller openings through the ice outside the
shanty to heighten his advantage. He rigged each hole with a wire and a red
tip-up flag to alert him when a fish hit the hook.

 

That accomplished, Robbie arranged his gear inside the tight shanty. He set
the kerosene stove next to his camp chair, perched beside the bait bucket
next to the beer cooler, across from another camp chair soon to be warmed by
a hot-blooded woman who would admire his prowess. 

 

Sweating by then in his snowmobile suit, Robbie settled in for the day-long
event. He was anxious to drop the line of his jig pole into the depths of
Doe Lake at the eleven o'clock starting bell. Peering out the window from
his cozy hiding place, he spied Claudia taking pictures of Families and
friends hooping and hollering on shore. The atmosphere was festive. Snow
sculptures incongruously circled the lake. An imaginary flying saucer stood
next to a life-like deer next to the ice queen's throne.

 

A knock on the door of his shelter alerted Robbie that his guest had
arrived. Chicky bounced into the hut, raising the temperature a few notches.
She placed a thermos of hot coffee on the kerosene stove, and she balanced a
flask of whiskey on top of the cooler. Chicky wasn't as cute as Claudia or
Veronica, Robbie thought, but she'd do the trick that day.

 

The signal to start fishing sounded. The competitive spirit was thicker than
ice. Following the starting bell at eleven, a quiet four hours would pass
before the judges began measuring and weighing the entries. 

 

* * *

 

After taking photographs at the starting events, Claudia ventured out on her
cross country skis. She wanted to escape the congestion of revelers and
noisy snowmobilers. The results wouldn't come in until three o'clock. She
had plenty of time to circle the 10-mile perimeter of the lake. 

 

She wondered if Robbie was sitting alone in his shanty or if Veronica was
keeping him warm. Claudia tried to tell herself she didn't care. 

 

# # #

 

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