Part 1 (2/2)

”Car off the road at the bottom of Elm Street.”

”Were almost clear.”

”The car has gone into the river.”

”On our way. Move it, Dave, we gotta go. This could be a big one.” She jumped into the truck, heart pumping. Evans climbed behind the wheel. ”What we got?”

”Car in the river.”

”Jesus.” He started the engine, while Smith punched lights and sirens on.

Chapter Two.

Elm Street was decorated like a Christmas fairyland. It was a pleasant street of small shops, coffee bars, casual restaurants. Tonight, everything was closed, but windows shone with muted lighting ill.u.s.trating holiday displays. Tiny white lights glittered from lamp posts, illuminating eddies of snow swirling like the skirts of ballerinas. The snow was falling so heavily that all traces of afternoon foot traffic had been eliminated, leaving the sidewalks white and pristine.

Visibility was poor, and the trucks winds.h.i.+eld wipers werent doing much more than stirring the white stuff around. Smith wanted to tell Evans to slow down or theyd end up in a fender bender of their own. She bit her tongue instead.

Elm Street descended from the upper town in a long straight line before taking a sharp turn at the river, where it carried on to the east. It used to be a street of industrial docks and warehouses; modern, expensive homes now lined the river. To the west lay the beach, Riverside Park, and city hall.

At the bottom of the hill a car was sprawled across the street, front end buried in a snow drift, rear end blocking the road.

Evans slammed on the brakes, and the front of the truck stopped within inches of striking the car broadside. ”Close one,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Smith stifled a grin, and jumped out of the truck. Either the wind had died, or they were facing in a different direction, but she had no trouble getting the door open.

”Oh, G.o.d, Officer. He was there. He was just there. I tried to get out of the way, and then he was gone. Oh, G.o.d.”

The man was young, wiry, long-haired, and long-bearded. His brown eyes showed too much white, like a horse smelling fire, and his gloved hands flapped in the air. A purple toque, with a cheerful pink ball at the crown, sat on his head, and a black scarf had come unwrapped from around his neck. The long ta.s.seled ends dragged in the snow.

”Who was there? Where? Dispatch said someone in the river?”

The man turned and pointed. ”He went in, Officer. He went in.”

Smith and Evans ran. The river was black and moving fast. Snow flew in their faces, sharp as the needles of fir trees. Cold wind sought gaps in necks and cuffs.

”I cant see a d.a.m.ned thing,” Evans shouted.

”There.” Smith grabbed his arm. ”Look there.”

About twenty-five feet from sh.o.r.e the undercarriage and wheels of a vehicle were pointing up. Some of the rear was visible, bright yellow, otherwise she might never have seen it.

Smith turned to the man with the long scarf, whod followed them. ”Did you see anyone? Did anyone get out?”

He shook his head. Ice was gathering on his beard. ”Dont think so. I sat in my car for a few seconds, trying to get my head back. When I got out, he was in the river, going down. I didnt see anyone.”

”Five-one to dispatch. We need Fire, now. Swift water rescue team.”

”On their way.”

A siren screamed down the hill.

”See anyone?” she asked Evans, who was pa.s.sing the beam of his flashlight across the water.

”No.” The wind whipped the normally placid Upper Kootenay River into tall peaks. Waves crashed against the sides of the car and washed over the exposed undercarriage.

Black water and white snowflakes covered the tops of the rocks lining the riverbank. The snow at the side of the road was piled as high as her waist. Smith climbed onto the snow bank. The snow was hard, packed by the plow. Shed swum in this river many times, and knew it was shallow for a long way out; the roof of the car must be resting on the bottom. People were trapped in there. How long had it been since it went in? Ten minutes at least. Time for the long-scarfed guy to get out of his car, run to the waters edge, pull out his cell, call 911. And then for Smith and Evans to arrive. More than time enough to drown.

People had survived for longer in a trapped car, if they had an air pocket. She moved to undo her gun belt.

Her boot slipped on a rime of ice, and she would have fallen into the water but for the hand on her arm. ”You cant do it, Molly.” Dave Evans was strong enough to almost lift her off her feet with one hand. ”That waters freezing. Youll be incapacitated in under two minutes, and the rescue guysll have to waste their time trying to find you.”

He was right, much as she hated to admit it. She followed Dave Evans hand back to solid ground. ”We cant stand here and do nothing.”

Another siren-the fire truck this time.

”Get that car out of the way,” Evans said to the fellow with the long scarf. ”Theres going to be a lot of traffic coming this way and youre blocking the road.”

”Ill try, but Im pretty much stuck.”

”Constable Smithll give you a hand. Get that car moved. If not, the fire guysll hit it so hard well be looking for pieces into next year.”

They ran uphill to the car buried head first in the snow bank.

People were beginning to gather at the edges of the streetlights, ghostly shapes, faint outlines in a swirling white world. The curious, drawn by blue and red lights, the sense of urgency, the promise of excitement.

”You there,” Smith called to a man in a good overcoat and black scarf. ”Im Constable Smith, Trafalgar City Police. Can you get your neighbors together and help this gentleman get his car out of the road. We need it cleared.”

An ambulance made its way down the hill. It edged carefully around the stuck car, as if ill.u.s.trating Smiths point.

”Glad to help,” the man turned and with a single step he disappeared.

Fire truck. Top of the hill. Moving fast. Smith yelled into her radio to tell them to slow the h.e.l.l down, a vehicle was in the way.

Whether her request got through or not, she didnt know. But the fire truck climbed the sidewalk to miss the obstruction and pulled parallel to the river. The occupants jumped out. Two were already dressed in yellow and black dry-suits. They fastened helmets as they ran. Another firefighter followed, carrying bundles of rope.

A group of locals, some in their Christmas Eve best, some in overcoats thrown over pajamas, came running, carrying shovels of various sizes. Snow flew everywhere as they began to dig. Smith tried to direct them, but she was ignored. The man with the long scarf jumped behind the wheel.

<script>