Some people aren’t familiar with my first name. I’m Boston Irish, although I haven’t lived there for years, and it’s pronounced “Shay-mus”—like the private eye—which I am not. If I weren’t sequestered deep in the woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, eight miles from the nearest neighbor, you could call me a financial crimes consultant.
The idea had been for Abigail and me to spend a quiet winter recovering from the trauma surrounding bad guys shooting her and nearly burning down my house in Cincinnati. That wasn’t what happened. Abigail left on the Tuesday before New Year’s. I stayed.
And the winter was quiet—until the day that changed everything.
I have a daily routine: up before dawn, stretch (To say I am stiff is an understatement. I believe I was the only baby in history who couldn’t touch his toes.), oatmeal for breakfast, journal an hour, cross-country ski several hours.
I read a Rex Stout Nero Wolfe until dinner. Usually I snowshoe for several hours after dark. The WIKB weather report called for snow late that evening. Once outside I faced north into a brisk wind and searched for signs of the aurora borealis but only spotted a front forming in the distance. The skies above were so clear the Milky Way seemed almost within reach. Good to go.
Six miles into an eight-mile loop I exited the shelter of a cedar swamp. The evergreens had protected me from the changing weather. Deep in thought, I had paid only passing attention as snow-laden clouds from the north brought with them a howling February snowstorm that threatened to erase any trace of tracks leading me home.
That was a stupid mistake for someone living all alone, miles from anyone.
To the snare drum rattling of hardwood treetops, I climbed the rise from the frozen swamp to the head of the lake following faint indentations. I pushed through the brush border at the lake’s edge and met a fierce blast that tore my breath away. A thousand hypodermic snow needles jabbed my exposed face. I ducked my head into my parka, pulled ski goggles from my knapsack.
After some mishaps I finally reached my guest cabin where I decided to stop and pick up a book from the mystery selection I keep there. An arc of smoothed snow on the stoop formed a single angel wing. Someone had recently opened the door to the screened porch. Squatting down, I flipped up the headlamp’s red filter and spotted prints of bare feet.
Now I knew I was going nuts. Occasionally holding conversations with a disappeared Abigail was one thing, but phantom footprints meant my imagination was reaching a new level of desperation. Get a grip, Seamus. No one walks around barefoot in this weather. At the thought, my arms reminded me they were freezing from an earlier nosedive into the snow. My teeth started chattering.
I knelt to inspect the tracks: all faced forward; no departures. Must be guys from one of the nearby camps playing a trick. Peering into the swirling snow, the track of partially filled footprints disappeared down the driveway.
A frisson of disquiet struck me. Although only sixty-five yards away, the house and garage were invisible with their lights off. What if it wasn’t a joke? What if someone found this cabin and took refuge? I yanked open the screen door and tromped in, ignoring the scrape of snowshoe claws on the porch floor. I peered in the glass door to the cabin proper. No one had lit the fire preset in the wood stove.
A shiver running from my toes to the top of my head reminded me I needed warmth. A book could wait for morning. Turning from the door, I caught a flash of two bare legs dangling below the chair hammock attached to a porch rafter. I laughed so hard my sides ached and my lungs hurt from the frozen air.
In a place where winter lasts half the year, jokes and jokers get odd. The jerks must have stepped a blow-up doll onto my porch to make the footprints and posed it in the swinging chair. They had concealed their tracks well. In this dark, I couldn’t figure out how they did it, but I’d find the evidence in daylight.
Fine. Like pink flamingos mysteriously congregating in front lawns of townies about to return from vacation, this babe was definitely going to show up in someone’s sauna in the near future. Might as well drag it to the house so it’ll be close at hand for future revenge. I grabbed the plastic legs to haul the thing from the chair.
The legs were real.
You can read more about Seamus in Cabin Fever, the second book in the “Seamus McCree” mystery series, published by Barking Rain Press. The first book in the series is Bad Policy. Books are available at retail and online booksellers.
GIVEAWAY
Comment on this post by 6pm EST on April 11, and you will be entered for a chance to win a copy of CABIN FEVER. One winner will be chosen at random. Unless specified, U.S. entries only.
Meet the author
JAMES M JACKSON authors the Seamus McCree mysteries, BAD POLICY (March 2013) and CABIN FEVER (coming April 2014). BAD POLICY won the Evan Marshall Fiction Makeover Contest whose criteria were the freshness and commerciality of the story and quality of the writing. Known as James Montgomery Jackson on his tax return and to his mother whenever she was really mad at him, he splits his time between the Upper Peninsula of Michigan woods and Georgia’s low country. Jim has also published an acclaimed book on contract bridge, ONE TRICK AT A TIME: to start winning at bridge (Master Point Press 2012).
His website is jamesmjackson.com. You can find him on Facebook and Twitter.
Follow dru’s book musing on Facebook for book giveaways, contests, posting about discounted books and some of my reading musings.
Sounds like another fine series you’ve got us into…to use a misquote! 🙂
Seems interesting, I am not familiar with this author but would love another series to start!
Sounds interesting and I need another series!
I’d love to start reading this series! Thank you for the chance!
Would love to win a copy! Thanks for having the giveaway!
Seamus manages to weave together pink flamingoes, cedar trees, Rex Stout, snow angle wings, Irish Boston & so many alluringly written elements in this page-turn teaser that he’s intrigued me, even if I can’t stand snow, ice & such true numbing cold. Makes my pinkie finger numb, just reading this. Now that’s mighty fine storytelling!
Hmm — I like the ring to “snow angle wings.” I need to think about how to work that into a future work, 🙂
ah, it’s snow angel wings…. not angle, but there are plenty of angles to follow in this tale…
Looks great, i hope i get a chance to read it, thank you 🙂
jslbrown2009(at)aol(dot)com
Sounds like a GREAT read – hope I win a copy! Thanks for information!
Sounds wonderful, would love to win/read this
This book seems like an old 1950’s mystery, the ones with the lurid covers that I’d find hidden in a box in my uncle’s home office. I think I’d like to win this one.
Toss the hat dru, I’m in it to win it!
I hadn’t thought about the 1950s aspect to the cover until you mention it, but I can see your point. I’m particularly fond of the scope target lines showing up on the cabin.
WOW —- what a wonderful introduction. I can see Seamus would be an interesting guy to know. This is a book I want.
wHAT A GREAT BLOG … Can’t wait to find out who she is (was) and what’s going on in them there snowy climes. Well written and with a nice surprise in the form of the corpse. A must read.
Diane — I’m not going to give much away, but I will let you know she is still (barely) alive.
Excellent introduction to the second Seamus adventure, Jim. I’m looking forward to it.
Great passage, JMJ. Should yank quite a few folks into the story.
OOoh this sounds awesome! I’d love to read it. 🙂
I definitely have cabin fever after our long winter here in northern Minnesota–so this book looks perfect right now.
suefarrell.farrell@gmail.com
Yes, the start of your new book spells trouble for Seamus. I can’t wait to read the next in the series, Jim. Keep up the great work!
Very much NOT what you want to come home to!
Looking forward to reading this one. Thanks for the chance to win.
I think Seamus is a winner, Jim!
You certainly have me hooked! Off to download it right now. It sounds like a terrific read.
Now, that’s what I like to hear that my guest post spurred a reader to purchase a book.
LOL – I’m hoping I spurred them rather than spurned them. I think there should be like a ten second rule for posts. If you find the typo in ten seconds you can undo and no one ever knows. That would save me lots of self-grief. 🙂
This is a book that I know my husband is going to love. I will order it for him as an Easter gift. We love any stories referring to Boston!!! Great sounding book.
Cynthia
A great buildup of suspense. I’m not into snow activities at all, but I kept reading. You got me, so put me in the draw. Thanks.
It sounds as if this is one I can pass along to my husband to enjoy also.
Book giveaway.
This looks like a really good book. I haven’t heard of this author or character before. If I win the giveaway I might have to buy the first book in the series. 🙂
A cabin in the woods! Intriguing !
This book sounds so good, but a little creepy. Just the way I like my books. I would love to read it. Thanks for having the giveaway.
This sounds very intriguing.
This sounds interesting!
I’m impressed that someone as stiff as Seamus would snowshoe eight miles each evening. That would put me in serious reverse for months! Good for him. And good for you, Jim, for crafting a great read. Cabin Fever is on my TBR list.
contest is closed.