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“Wait. ” Julian hit the window control. The glass descended silently. He poked his head out to see what the hell the barricade was for. The cold stung his eyes and nose.
Off to the right, there was a huge field, coated in white. In the middle of it was a large frozen pond. Cars ringed the perimeter of a makeshift skating rink; their golden headlights turned the place into an outdoor Madison Square Garden. There were people everywhere, kids and adults, all skating in the same direction.
He noticed a small concession stand set up just a few feet from the car. Some men were roasting hot dogs over an open pit fire.
“Jesus, the only thing missing is Jimmy Stewart. ” He drew his head back in and raised the window. “Go on, take me to the hotel. ”
The limousine turned around and reentered Main Street. “You don’t see towns like this much anymore,” the driver said, casting a nervous glance into the rearview mirror.
They pulled up alongside a huge Victorian house that sat on a corner lot, its roof covered in drifts of snow. A white picket fence cut the large lot into a pretty, bite-sized piece. Next to the open gate was an etched wooden sign that read WELCOME TO OUR COUNTRY HAUS.
Julian stepped out of the car. His breath clouded in front of his face. Christ, it was cold. He sure hoped Teresa had packed him a coat. He pulled his Ray-Bans out of his shirt pocket and put them on. “Bring the bags in,” he said, already moving, his tennis shoes crunching through the hard crust of snow.
The door swung open before he even reached the porch. A gray-haired, heavyset woman in a floral dress and plaid apron stood in the doorway. “It is you! The girls and I didn’t dare hope. In a town like this …” She dissolved into giggles.
At mention of “the girls,” he pictured a herd of wildebeests, all dressed in flowered cotton. Even though he was tired, he flashed her The Smile. It never hurt to schmooze the fans. “Hello, darlin’. ”
She clapped her hands together; a little cloud of flour wafted upward. “Darling—ooh eee. Wait till I tell Gertrude. I made you shortbread, just in case. I read in the Enquirer that it’s your favorite. ”
“You’re an angel straight from heaven,” he said, though in truth, he couldn’t remember what in the hell shortbread was. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve had a long trip and I’m tired as hell. I’d sure appreciate it if you’d show me to my room. ”
“Of course. ” She scuttled around like a dung beetle and hopped up the narrow staircase. Julian could hear the driver, banging up behind them with his garment bag.
On the second floor, the woman waddled to the end of the hallway and opened a door, revealing a big, airy bedroom that exceeded the weight limit on ruffles. Laura Ashley on LSD couldn’t find use for that many ruffles.
“It’s the honeymoon suite,” she said, beaming. She offered her pudgy hand. “I’m Elizabeth, by the way, but you can call me Lizbet. ”
“Liz … bet. What a charming name. ” He poked his head into the room and frowned. “I’m sorry, Lizbet, but where’s my bathroom?”
“Down the hall. Third door on the left. ”
He turned slowly to face her. “You’re saying I have to share a bathroom with other people?”
“Ordinarily that would be true, but ski season hasn’t started yet. You’re our only guest. So, really, it’s like a private bathroom. ”
“Except that I need to pack a lunch to get to it. ”
She puffed up. “Well, really—”
“I’m sorry. That was just a joke. The room is fine. Give my driver a room, too, would you? Preferably on another floor. Then I’ll buy up all the rest. I’d like to have the place to myself. ”
“Of course. ” She flushed prettily and bobbed her head. Backing away from him, she smiled until the last possible moment, when she turned and disappeared.
He sat down on the end of the bed. The springs squeaked and moaned beneath his weight. “Unpack my bags, will you?” he said to the driver, flopping back on the bed.
A minor emergency kept Liam in the office until almost five o’clock. By the time he closed up the building and headed for the hospital, it was completely dark. As he stepped out into the night, he heard the high-pitched, faraway sounds of children laughing. They were skating tonight.
He got into his car and drove through the deserted town. In the hospital, he went to the small corner office that he shared with Tom Granato, a general practitioner from Deming.
He knew the instant that Julian True arrived. A flurry of sounds came through the door, footsteps sped up, whispers turned up in volume. He waited for his intercom to buzz.
Instead, Sarah appeared at the door, opening it without even a knock. Her face was flushed a bright pink, and she was grinning. “Dr. Campbell, there’s a man here to see—”
“Julian True. ”
She sucked in a surprised breath. “How did you know?”
“Magic. ”
