Once Upon A Christmas Wish: The Ax Murderer's Missing ID

The emotionally draining day of writing and the excitement of the storm must have caught up with me. I found my thoughts drifting. I was not asleep but not fully awake either. My mind wandered over the events of the last couple of weeks, from the end of the book tour and odd remarks from strangers to my creativity coming to a standstill.

“My mother would be disappointed.” I whispered.

Who was the man who spoke those words in the bookstore? How did he know my mother? There was something about his eyes. The tone of his voice felt oddly familiar. Like once upon a time, before I was old enough to memorize anything specific that voice or one like it was there. I decided it was time to call the agency I used from time to time not to do the fact checking on agents, lawyers, and publicists that I have requested in the past. It was time to do something I told myself I would never do. Run a background check on family. More specifically my mother. It was time to find out who the man in the Rolling Stones t-shirt was and what he meant to her.

That line of thinking was where I was as I nodded off. It led me to memories of her. They became so vivid eventually I heard her voice telling me to wake up it was time to go to school. When I did not move the voice became louder. There was a big thump, I jumped at the sound. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the rented SUV stuck in a snow storm looking up at a shadowy figure standing on the other side of the car window.

“Wake Up!” The figure said as it banged on the outside of the door. It made a gesture with its hand moving it in a downward circle. “Roll down the window!” It yelled.

I turned the key still sitting in the ignition and opened the window just enough to hear the person.

“Get out of the vehicle and come with me.” I heard a man’s voice command.

“What?”

“Get out of the vehicle and come with me.” He repeated.

I shook my head. “How do I know you’re not up to no good? What if you’re an ax murderer?”

“Really?” He asked. “How many ax murderers do you think go running around in weather like this? They may have issues but they aren’t stupid.”

“Criminals aren’t usually very bright.”

“Some of them don’t get caught until there are twelve bodies buried in their backyard. The fact that it takes a while to be found out is a sign of some intelligence.”

A feeling of concern began to churn in my stomach after that comment. “Who are you?” I asked.

“I’d show you my ID but my ax murderer identification is in my other wallet.” The man said as he pulled down the scarf covering the bottom half of his face.

“McKinley?”

“The one and only. You okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your engine wasn’t running which means you have no heat. Can you still feel your hands? What about your toes?”

I did a quick check, moving everything. “My hands are fine. I can feel my feet but they’re cold.”

“Let’s go.” He said.

I put the window back up and opened the door as I turned off the engine and got out of the SUV.

“Come on.” He said as he took off through the snow. He was headed towards a thick standing of trees.

“Where are we going?” I asked, taking bigger steps in an effort to keep up.

“Shelter. Baker said you left town a while ago. I need to get you out of the elements and check your feet for signs of frost bite.”

I reached out for McKinley’s arm, gesturing for him to stop. “I told you they’re just cold. If you could just drive me back to the house, Lisa can bring me back to pick up the SUV in a couple of days.”

“A foot and a half of snow has fallen in the last few hours and the wind chill is dropping as we speak. This was just the warm up. More is coming.”

“You’re a mountain man. You know how to navigate this.” I pressed.

I really didn’t want to be alone with McKinley for God knows how long.

“Let’s say I did get you back home and your toes didn’t fall off when you took your boots off, you have no idea where you are. You’d never find the car.” He continued. “It’s going to be two days before the people who absolutely have to be out on the road venture out. This is the portion of the storm where we take shelter and let the road crews do their job. Let’s go.” He turned back towards the trees and continued walking.

I looked at the darkness surrounding me as snow started to fall. I watched McKinley as he continued walking away. He was right, I was lost. As much as I hated it he was my best chance at getting through this storm with all of my appendages in tact. I called out, “Do you mind!” as he entered the woods, coming as close to running to catch up as I could before he disappeared into the darkness completely.

“I don’t understand why you insist on looking. I told you my feet are fine.” I said.

McKinley had led me to a small cabin in a standing of trees located in the middle of who knows where we were. He pointed to a couch and a blanket sitting in front of a fireplace. I removed my outerwear just inside the entry before settling on to the couch to warm myself while he built a fire. He disappeared for a bit before returning with coffee for two. I was enjoying the warm beverage as it traveled down my throat and warmed my stomach until someone, I really don’t need to name names at this point, reached under the blanket and pulled out a foot. I held back the urge to make an annoyed comment while he removed my sock and studied it.

“No frost bite.” He announced trading one foot for the other. “The other one is okay too.”

“I told you they were fine. Go over there.” I said, gesturing to a spot on the other side of the room with my head. “Check your own feet.”

“Don’t need to.” He said. “I’m wearing heated socks.” McKinley poured himself a mug of coffee and went to the other side of the room. Placing his mug on an old table, he removed a ham radio from a shelf.

I ignored him for a while, doing my best to relax. I found myself attempting to reconcile the bossy, gruff McKinley I seemed to be regularly encountering with the happy smiling Mac everyone else appeared to know. The words “patch me through,” pulled me from my mental gymnastics.

It sounded like he was talking to Mr. Baker and then a Mrs. Baker; I heard a familiar voice say “Mac?,” it was Lisa. She was using her, ‘I’m a tough independent woman and I can handle this’ voice. The one she used for business emergencies and unexpected calls from Phoebe’s school. She was worried.

“Yep. I found Ms. Windstrom. She’s not hurt or injured. She’s with me and she’s safe.”

“Thank God. Did she say what happened?”

McKinley looked at me.

I mouthed the word “Lost.”

“She got turned around in the storm and couldn’t find her way back to the main road.”

“But she’s okay?”

He looked at me again.

I made the okay sign with my hand.

“She’s okay. I can get her back to the house in the morning after the second wave of snow has come through. We’ll pick up the cars in a couple of days.”

“What time in the morning?”

“About 10:30, you might want to have some food waiting. She’s going to be hungry.”

“Okay.” Lisa was still using her worried voice.

“You can relax Lisa, she’s safe now.”

The next voice I heard was Phoebe’s. “Thank you Mac.”

“You’re welcome kiddo. See you tomorrow, McKinley out.”

I was going to be stuck here all night with Mr. Personality. What fun. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my spinal cord.