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’ ‘Oh god,’ she thought as her eyes prickled, ‘I love him so much. Here I am bragging about him and I know I’m going to hurt him terribly.’ Again the song that tortured her was playing in her mind ………’Every place I go, I’ll think of you…Every song I sing, I’ll sing for you…When I come back, I’ll wear your wedding ring…’ But she knew that wasn’t to be. A tear slid, unfelt, unnoticed down her cheek. ‘Miss MacLean? Are you quite alright? Are you troubled?’ Megan stood and ran to the ladies rest room. She locked herself in a stall and cried, her tears now unchecked, her throat painfully tight as she tried to stifle her tears. There was a tentative tap on the door. A soft Scottish voice was again asking, ‘Miss MacLean, please, can I help you? After all, we are both MacLean.’ Megan savagely pulled sheets from the dispenser, dabbed at her eyes and wiped her cheeks. She tried to breathe deeply, calmly. Giving a little sniffle, she stood and opened the door. The mother was standing there and. , just as Colonel Travis was ordering me to go to my room, Mr. Slocum appeared, stamping his feet and shaking snow from where it was plastered to his clothes. He told the Colonel that the path he had been working on was filling up faster than he could shovel.I made one last call to the Oldham house and was told Ned had not arrived. Mr. Oldham told me to go to bed, that he would update me about Ned's whereabouts in the morning. I don't think Dale or Carter ever knew that I was missing from the room. I couldn't go to sleep. What if Ned was in a ditch, marooned in the car, freezing?After a short night's sleep, I was awakened at six A.M. by Carter. He told me that Dale, being the ranking cadet present, had been called downstairs to consult with Colonel Travis. We peered out the window and saw nothing but white. Everything was covered, including Mr. Slocum's path that he had attempted to shovel to the maintenance shed.Dale returned to the room and dispatched us to spread the news. Carter.
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He nodded at a couple of the men, smiled at a female cop that looked as if she would rather be cleaning up the holding cell than in that room and took a look around. The living room was small, tilted hard wood floor that at one time had probably been pretty classy was now bleached out and in bad need of sanding and finishing. Someone had painted the room a very unfortunate shade of dark blue, a white six inch stripe keeping the blue from touching the ceiling. He could see down a dark hallway into what he thought was the kitchen. Ducts from a freestanding furnace were bored into the walls which were painted orange. The orange wouldn’t have been bad if it had been a color that was describable. This wasn’t. The same hall held a set of stairs that went to the second floor. They were narrow and tilted and looked as if they would collapse under the least amount of weight. He could smell the body before he saw her. She was off of the main room in what could have been a small bedroom or den..

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