Castillo Linda - Outsider

“Me, too.”

Hesitating, he looks around. “I will wait until you get turned around, Chief Burkholder. If you get stuck, I have a shovel inside and a frisky Dutch colt in that little barn out back.”

I thank him again and then he’s gone.

The Explorer bogs down twice while I’m turning around. Taking it easy on the accelerator, thankful for the tire chains, I rock back and forth and manage to free up my wheels both times. Then I’m flying down the lane and making the turn back onto the township road. I come upon a farmer on a massive John Deere tractor, lights flashing. I’m nearly on top of him before I realize he’s clearing the road. He’s traveling in reverse with a snowblower attachment hitched to the rear, auger spinning, the chute propelling snow thirty feet downwind.

I flash my lights and raise my hand in greeting as I pass. He waves back, a shared moment between two motorists who might’ve been the last souls on earth. The rest of the trip to the Lengacher farm is uneventful. I’m midway to the house when a four-foot-high drift slams into my bumper hard enough to throw me against my seat belt. Snow cascades over the windshield, and the Explorer lurches to an abrupt stop.

“Shit,” I mutter as I unfasten my safety belt.

I sit there a moment, thinking about pulling out the collapsible shovel I keep in the back. But I know any attempt to dig out of such a mountainous drift with the wind kicking would be a fruitless endeavor. From where I’m sitting, I can see that the snow is as high as the headlights. It’s coming down fast and already blowing across the hood. Even if I manage to dig out of this particular drift, chances are there’s another one waiting a few yards ahead. I’ve no choice but to hoof it to the house and hope I can free up the Explorer once the weather breaks.

Throwing up the hood of my parka, I open the door and step into the maelstrom. Wind and snow pummel me as I start in the general direction of the house. It crosses my mind that my vehicle is now blocking the lane, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I keep going.

I’m no stranger to snow. I’ve lived in Ohio my entire life. When I was a kid it was a magical thing, despite the fact that my family faced many hardships caring for the livestock and keeping the farm up and running. Even so, I couldn’t wait for that first big snowfall—the more, the better. As an adult—and a cop—I’m invariably out in inclement weather, helping motorists or handling fender benders. While snow can be a stunning phenomenon, it makes life plenty difficult. A blizzard like this one is dangerous.

Wind thrashes me as I tromp through drifts as high as my hips. Some areas have been scoured by the wind so much that I can see gravel. Snow stings my eyes and sweeps down my collar. Visibility is down to a few feet. I’m close to the house, but I can’t see it. I can barely make out the fence on either side of the driveway, which is just a few feet away.

By the time I reach the steps of the front porch, my coat and trousers are caked with snow. My face is wet and burning with cold. I cross the porch and knock. The door swings open and I find myself looking at young Sammy. His eyes widen at the sight of me. “Katie! You look like a snowman!” he exclaims as he ushers me inside.

I enter the living room to see Adam standing in the hall, head cocked, expression concerned as he takes my measure. “Is everything all right?”

“I got stuck in your lane.” I push the hood off my head. “I’m pretty much blocking it.”

“I don’t think we’re going to be taking the buggy out any time soon. We have a rear gate for the sleigh if we need to get out.”

“Datt, now we can put the harness on Jimmy and he can pull her out, like he did Mr. Besecker last winter.” Sammy looks up at me. “Wait till you see how strong he is, Katie. Jimmy may be old and fat and sometimes he’s lazy, but he’s the strongest horse in the world.”

A smile drifts across Adam’s expression, but he doesn’t let it reach his lips. He shifts his gaze to mine. “Samuel is right. Once this snow lets up, we can pull you out if you’d like.”

My gaze travels to the front window. The storm is so ferocious I can no longer see the tree off the porch. As chief of police in the midst of a blizzard, there are a dozen things I should be doing. This is the kind of weather that brings with it an onslaught of emergencies. Undoubtedly some of my officers won’t be able to make it in for their shift. But having just been outside and knowing conditions are only going to get worse, I accept the reality that I’m not going anywhere for the time being.

“I might just take you up on that,” I say. “How’s our patient?”

“Sleeping.” I see him looking at my coat, which is still encrusted with snow. “Would you like to dry your coat by the stove?”

“That’d be great,” I say, unzipping it, wiping my boots on the rug.

“Samuel, take Katie’s coat to the mudroom where the stove is, hang it on back of the chair to dry like we do.”

I work the coat from my shoulders and hand it to the boy. “ Danki. ”

Flashing a shy grin, the boy takes the coat and starts toward the kitchen.

I turn my attention to Adam. “I’m sorry to intrude on you and your family like this,” I tell him as I brush the remaining snow from my trousers. “I think we’re officially snowed in.”

He sends a pointed look to the window, where snow has piled up against the panes. “I’m glad we found your friend when we did.”

I know he means it and with all sincerity. Still, his willingness to help doesn’t alleviate my concern that I’ve asked too much of him. Or that I may have involved him and his family in something I shouldn’t have.

While Adam clangs dishes around in the kitchen, I call Tomasetti from my place on the sofa. “Were you able to find anything on Gina Colorosa?” I ask.

“I’m waiting for a couple of callbacks,” he tells me. “The most interesting thing I’ve discovered so far is that no one wants to talk about it.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I were to guess, I’d venture to say there may be some kind of ongoing investigation. She was on active duty, so I’d say it was likely a covert operation.”

“Any idea what she’s being investigated for?”

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, Colorosa is suspected of engaging in some kind of corrupt activity. I don’t know the details yet or who else is involved.”

“What about the warrant? Any idea what it was for?”

“All I know is that a judge signed off on it. Since she’s a police officer and was likely armed, the vice unit did a no-knock at three A.M. this morning. Investigators were looking for evidence showing any pattern of corrupt activity, money or property, any tampering with government records, witnesses, or obstructing official business.”

I close my eyes, try to digest the enormity of the information, weigh it against everything Gina has told me so far. “Did they find anything?”

“All I know is that they confiscated her laptop. Notebooks. Two handguns. A prepaid cell. And four thousand dollars in cash.”

A thread of disappointment goes through me. “Most people don’t have that kind of cash lying around.”

“It gets worse. Yesterday, a CI by the name of Eddie Cysco was gunned down,” he tells me, using the cop-speak term for ‘confidential informant.’ “The scene is still active and there’s not much information coming out. But I understand he’s got some connection to Colorosa.”

The name reverberates in my head. “Gina mentioned Cysco,” I tell him. “He was the CI the vice unit used to obtain a warrant for the no-knock in which Louis and Sandra Garner were killed.” I lay out the circumstances. “According to Gina, anyway.”