Free Crimson Snow by Jeanne Dams Page B

have an idea of the size. I hope it fits.”
    He slipped the ring on her finger. It was a little loose, but she didn’t even notice. She gazed, awestruck with the beauty of the gold setting and the fire of the diamond. “Patrick! You—it must have cost—is it real?”
    â€œIt’s not so big, and it’s only from Sears, Roebuck, but it’s real. One day I’ll buy you a fine one, big as a hotel doorknob!”
    â€œYou will not. It is this one I love. Oh, Patrick!”
    The embrace this time was more passionate. Despite Hilda’s best intentions, there’s no telling what might have happened if they had not, after a time, heard the insistent knocking at the back door.
    â€œIgnore them,” said Patrick, his lips against her cheek, his hand stroking her golden hair.
    Hilda sighed. “I cannot, Patrick. I am on duty. And you are on call. It could be anyone.”
    Patrick came down to earth with a thump. “Yes, that it could be. And you’re not goin’ to the door, me girl. Not when there’s murderers still runnin’ loose. I’ll go.”
    The pink clouds had not yet quite receded for Hilda. Someone to protect her. Someone to look after her. She sighed luxuriously and smiled at Patrick’s retreating figure.
    He was back in moments, bringing with him a tall, agitated man. Hilda blinked, and blinked again, but the man was still her brother Sven.
    â€œHilda, you’ve got to come,” said Sven, ignoring Patrick completely. “Erik’s run away again, and Mama says you’re the only one who can find him.”

School was suspended…as the city is trying
to unravel the mystery of the crime.
    â€”South Bend Tribune
    January 23, 1904
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    8
    I T TOOK HILDA A MOMENT to gather her thoughts. “Erik…?” “What is the matter with you?” said Sven impatiently. “You must come, I tell you. Erik is gone, and Mama is beside herself. I know it is hard for you to get away, but if I explain to Mr. Williams—” He looked around the room. “Where is Mr. Williams?”
    â€œHe is in bed. He is very ill. There have been nurses with him all day, and oh, Sven, he might—”
    But Sven was not interested in Mr. Williams just then. He surveyed the empty servants’ room. “Where are all the other servants, then?”
    â€œThey’ve gone home, the dailies, and Maggie and Mrs. Sullivan have gone to bed.”
    â€œThen what,” roared Sven, “is he doing here?”
    Sven was a good six inches taller than Patrick and looked, just then, a good deal like one of the more fearsome Scandinavian gods, Thor, perhaps.
    Patrick grinned. “I came to help, and I stayed to talk to Hilda. I have the right.” He ignored the frantic signals Hilda was making behind Sven’s back. “She and I are engaged to be married.”
    â€œYou are what? ”
    â€œSven, there is no time for this,” said Hilda firmly. “We must find Erik. You can tell me everything, later, and forbid me to marry Patrick, and whatever else you are thinking, but now, tell me: When did Mama last see Erik, and where?”
    â€œThat’s my girl,” said Patrick in an undertone, and the love and admiration in his voice made Hilda feel, suddenly, like a queen on a throne. Oh, she could tackle anything with Patrick at her side!
    Sven frowned. “He was—but we must talk about—”
    â€œLater, not now. Erik. Tell me.” Hilda grasped Patrick’s arm.
    Sven glared at Patrick. “I—oh, ja, later, then. Erik was—you know there has been no school this week, ever since his teacher was found killed?”
    Hilda nodded.
    â€œSo Erik has been going to work all day at the firehouse.” Sven shot Patrick another angry look. “And today he saw a newspaper that said school would begin again a week from Monday, after Miss Jacobs’s funeral. And