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Drifts from the wind created snow piles more than twice that high and any tracks or scents that may have existed were totally obliterated. The police organizations put the search emphasis on finding Holly's car, and given its age, its uniqueness would make it that much easier to spot. Or so they thought!Holly's car, roof smashed nearly to the top of the dash, was nestled half way under the old iron bridge, its doors either blocked from opening by the bridge foundation or smashed and jammed from the collision with the wall and resulting slide down the hill. Holly might have been able to see out the rear window of the car, except that it was covered completely with ten inches of snow. She was, she realized, trapped in a cage, under a bridge on a seldom traveled road. She had no heat, no extra clothes, nothing to eat or drink, and absolutely no idea to where her cell phone had disappeared. She was cold, hungry, and very much alone. Holly tried to open the right side door, but it was. "Come on in," continued Frank. "My wife's looking forward to meeting you both."He led the way with Tom and Becca bringing up the rear. Tom could not, despite his shyness, resist it. He took her hand and squeezed it."You've won another admirer," he whispered.Becca stifled a giggle and blushed again.They were met in the front hall by a tiny woman. It was doubtful if she was even five foot. There was no doubt though where Tom had got his red hair from. A glorious mane of Titian hair fell to her shoulders. Like Becca she had huge green eyes which were full of warmth and humour. Becca was drawn to her immediately."Golly!" exclaimed Steven even before he was introduced. "You two could be sisters with those eyes."She smiled. "Her older, cruel sister possibly," she said. "How do you do, Mr Hardacre, and hello, Becca. How nice to meet you both." Well," said Frank, "clearly no introductions are necessary. How about a drink? What about you, Becca?" Have you got any ginger beer, Mr Edwards?" Yes,.
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