The snow had stopped for the moment, but steel-wool clouds obscured the top of Pikes Peak and the Front Range. The forecast predicted the bulk of the snow for tomorrow, and Charlie wanted to be out of Cheyenne well before the first snowflakes fell. She called Albertine as she drove, but the woman turned down the opportunity to drive to Wyoming in the face of an approaching blizzard. “Can’t, Charlie,” she said. “I’ve got a private party booked tonight—rehearsal dinner—and I’ve got to be here to oversee things. Otherwise, there’s nothing I’d like better than trying to outdrive a monster snowstorm. Mother Nature doesn’t like it when you taunt her, sugar. Just look at what happened to those poor folks in New Orleans who didn’t evacuate for Hurricane Katrina. Now, if you ever want to drive to Vegas, I’m your woman.” Charlie hung up and tried Dan. He surprised her by accepting immediately. “I need a break,” he said.
