Finding Elizabeth by Louise Forster

Author:Louise Forster
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Snowdrifts covered the drive and pathway to the front door. Jack spent the morning walking back and forth scooping snow. He warned Dave about the blizzard, but Dave insisted that travelling in these conditions wasn’t a problem. He told Jack snowploughs all over the country would be clearing the roads, fast. The highways for sure, Jack thought, but not the suburbs.

By noon there was still no sign of Dave. Jack tried ringing his mobile.

“Yeah!” Dave snarled.

“I expected you hours ago. What’s going on?”

“Crikey,” Dave grumbled, “the highway is full of trucks and people going places they can’t get to, because, hello, it snowed last night. You’d think they’d have the decency to stay home. I can’t, I’ve got a job to do.”

“Where are you?”

Dave’s dark blue Jeep pulled up. Jack opened the front door and stared at the car plastered with snow. There was no movement, no energetic Dave bouncing out of his car. Jack waited a few breaths, and then called out, “Dave?” But there was no response.

Boots on, Jack shuffle-walked to Dave’s car. He stooped over and peered through the window, noticing movement inside. The driver’s door slowly opened and Dave crawled out, wearing a fur-lined parka and massive boots. He grabbed a duffel bag and a plastic suit cover from the back seat. Face like the arse-end of a goat, Dave said nothing and shuffle-boot-skated up the icy path to the front door.

“Rough trip?” Jack asked, grabbing the duffel bag.

“You could say that,” Dave said, teeth clenched.

“Why does it look like a giant dumped a pile of snow on your car?”

“Not a giant,” Dave shook his head. “A snowplough.”

“What are the odds,” Jack quipped.

Dave gave him a look. “Yep, unscathed all the way from Calgary. I turn the corner into Granite Drive and—flop! instantly blinded. I don’t scare easily, but just for a minute there, I thought the friggin’ thing was going to chew up my car with me in it.”

“Whiskey?”

“Triple, no ice.”

“Mate,” Jack crooned, and put an arm over Dave’s shoulder.

Dave muttered under his breath, toed his boots off, shrugged out of his coat and hung it in a drying closet next to the entry hall.

“What’s with the Arctic gear?” Jack asked.

Dave gave him an are-you-kidding-me look. “It’s freezing out there. Forget the nose hairs snapping off. Unprotected, a man’s most important bits are snap-frozen in seconds.”

“Sit.” Jack pointed to the leather couch in front of the open fire. He poured them both a whiskey. “Here,” he said and handed one to Dave.

“How’s the search going?” Dave asked and took a sip.

“I’ve checked Births, Death, and Marriages. I’ve inquired at the hospital; they don’t give that information out to a person who’s not a family member. Those files are over thirty years old, and probably in storage somewhere. I’ve checked the library’s old newspapers, nothing. I went to the police station; maybe there was a record of a parking ticket, traffic violation, nothing. Even went through their missing persons file. Nothing. I’ve hit a wall. What about you?”

“I’ve called in a couple of favours.

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