He blew out a whistle. “This is breathtaking.”
He set down his pack and offered Hannah some water. He drank after her. “I can see the young reporter coming up here to meet her amour for a little romantic rendezvous.”
“Yeah, but with some gear, a sleeping bag, candles, maybe a bottle of wine.”
“Now, there’s an idea.”
Rex followed Hannah up the wooden steps. Inside the smell was woodsy, a little damp. There was a large map tacked to the one wall, a couple of bunks, a table and two benches and an old blackened woodstove. From the window he could see the tarn.
Groups of hikers and skiers would’ve come and gone since Amy was supposed to meet Grady here. If that was even what happened. He pulled the young reporter’s notebook out of his pack and flipped it open to the inside of the hard cover.
He read the notations again. “Grady, Grizz Hut, 5 p.m., to trail. Meeting. BW. Urgent.”
BW. In his world that stood for biological weapons. In Amy’s world it could stand for anything, but judging by the books in her apartment, she could well have understood the significance behind those two little letters.
Rex moved over to study the laminated map tacked to the wall. Little dotted lines in black and red denoted connecting trails. What connection did Amy Barnes have to CIA agent Ken Mitchell, he wondered. His name was in her apartment, in the books. Rex had also found Grady’s name in Mitchell’s hotel room. The links were there. He just couldn’t see where they led.
“To trail.” What did those words mean to Amy as she jotted them in her notebook?
“Hannah, can you get down to the spa on a trail from here?”
She came and stood close beside him to examine the map. He could breathe in her smell. Soapy, clean, mixed with the salty warmth of exercise.
She pointed up at the map. Her arm smooth, the muscles lean and defined. “You can. But you have to go down here, to where you can cross White River and get onto the flanks of Moonstone.” She traced a thin dotted black line with her finger. “Over here is a cable crossing with a little tram thing hikers use to pull themselves over the water. It joins the trail on the opposite side.”
She pushed delinquent tendrils of gold off her face. “The river at that point runs through a really deep, narrow gorge. I don’t even know if that tram is still operational. I haven’t been that way in years.”
“Let’s go take a look, shall we? How far is it, do you think?” He ran his eyes over the cabin interior slowly as he spoke. He was trained to notice anomalies.
“About half an hour, at least, I should think.”
Something caught his eye, almost beneath the leg of the table. It was trapped between the gap in the floorboards. He bent, tried to fish it out. He couldn’t get at it with his fingers. It was wedged tight.
“What did you find?” Hannah was at his side, bending down to see, her hair falling and teasing his face. He could detect the faint scent of vanilla.
“You’re blocking my light. Step back a minute.” Rex flicked open his pocket knife. “It’s probably nothing, but I have a hunch.”
“Don’t tell me, you always follow your hunches.”
“It’s kept me alive.”
Rex used the blade to lever the glass vial carefully out from between the floorboards. It was still stoppered, the remnants of a clear liquid evident inside.
He reached into the pocket of his pack, emptied two power-bar snacks from a plastic bag and dropped the vial inside, securing the bag.
“What do you think it is?”
“Not sure. It could’ve been left by anyone, but it was stuck tight in the boards which means it could’ve been here awhile.”
“You mean like from when Amy went missing?”
“We have a lab in Vancouver where we sometimes contract work. I can have it couriered there overnight for analysis. Then we can talk about possibilities.”
Hannah drew her brow down, the furrows pinching in above her nose. She was irritated by his guarded release of information. It would irritate any journalist, especially this one. He reached out and smoothed the lines of her brow with his fingers. “It doesn’t become you.”
She turned from him and stomped toward the cabin door. Rex knew the depths of Hannah’s insatiable curiosity. She was being extraordinarily controlled. Either that or her silence was an indication of anger. The cabin door slapped shut behind her.
Rex sighed, ran his hand through his hair. She was in too deep already. He couldn’t keep her totally out of the loop. He needed her continued cooperation. Christ, he needed her. Period.
He jerked to his feet, swung open the door. “Hannah!”
She stopped, turned slowly to face him. Her face said it all, her features a painful mix of anger, hurt, betrayal. And he knew it wasn’t just about the vial.
“I’m sorry,” he called out to her. In more ways than one.
She said nothing. Just stared up at him on the cabin steps.
“Okay. I’ll stay on the level with you. I want to see if the stuff in the vial is related to the stuff found in Grady Fisher’s room after his accident.”
She took a step toward him. “You think it might be liquid GHB?”
“Who knows? A test will rule it out if it’s not. If it is, we may be placing Grady Fisher in the hut. Or we may be placing someone else here. Someone who drugged Grady with GHB. But really, that’s all it might prove.”
“You think someone used GHB on Amy?”
“One step at a time, Hannah.”
The climb down into the White River watershed was steep. Hannah could feel a slight tremble in her knees by the time they reached the cable over the river. Far down in the rocky cleft between the two mountains, a steam of spray rose above the white noise of the river. She shivered, holding on to her elbows, hugging herself, the memory of her fall into this same river etched fresh in her brain.
Rex placed a large hand on each of her shoulders. “It’s okay, Hannah. If the thing is not secure, we turn back.” His presence as a protector, big and strong, was comforting. It was a childish notion. She knew that. Yet she felt she could trust him. With her body, anyway. Not with her psyche. He’d done enough damage to her spirit.
“You wait here. I’ll take a look at that thing.”
“It’s a thing all right.” The two cables looked solid and taut enough. Hannah saw they were joined on each end to a steel A-frame structure fixed into rock on either side of the gorge. A metal car, a box really, rested at their end.
The idea was to climb into the box that hung from a pulley on the top cable. Hikers then pulled themselves across the crevasse by hand, using the lower cable.
She watched as Rex tugged on the cables. She loved his hands, the thickness and power of his forearms. He stepped into the box, bouncing his weight against the resistance of the strands of metal.
“Looks good.” He started to pull himself across, setting out as their guinea pig.
The cable bowed under his weight, dipping to a definite sag at the middle. Hannah held her breath. Rex stopped and jounced the car, high above the steaming water. It held. She relaxed as she saw him pulling, hand over hand on the cord of metal, back to her side.
“Works just fine.” He stepped out, hefted his pack onto his back and held out a hand for Hannah. “All aboard.”
She tried not to look down at the hungry, steaming maw below. Fine droplets of spray reached up from their depths to taunt the two of them as they hung high above. They moved slowly, jerking across, drawn by the power of Rex’s arms.
Once safely on the far end of the gorge, Hannah rubbed at the indentation in her hands. She’d been gripping the edge of the metal box way too tightly. This whole business was getting to her.
They started the last leg of the climb down to the vast spa property that sprawled out over the Moonstone foothills.
They were deep in the cool shadow of Moonstone peak when they came abruptly up against a fence. “Stop!” Rex pulled her back, pointed to the bright orange s
ymbols of a man being zapped by lightning.
“It’s electrified?”
He nodded. “Must run for miles.” The charged fence, about eight feet high, snaked into the distance through trees and brambles of berry bushes. Rex pointed to a security camera. There were others like it placed at intervals along the property line. “These guys mean business,” he whispered.
A crude road, two depressions of tires molded into the ground, ran alongside the fence. Rex and Hannah followed the road for what seemed like a mile, keeping to the trees in an attempt to stay out of the camera scopes. Hannah felt furtive, as if she were some criminal sneaking up along the spa property line like this.
Rex pointed. “Gate. Careful. Don’t touch the wire.”
Hannah could see that whatever vehicle traveled this rude path used this back entrance to the spa property. At the moment the gate was locked shut. She leaned forward trying to get a better view of the dull gray concrete buildings inside the enclosure. They were tucked in beyond a stand of conifers. She didn’t know there were additional buildings on the spa land.
Rex pulled her back suddenly into the tress, quietly pointing up to a camera mounted on a rod. It swiveled in their direction. She could hear dogs barking in the distance, closing in.
“More cameras,” he whispered. “Guard dogs.”
He pulled her briskly back along the path. “Let’s go before the hounds arrive. I really don’t feel like explaining to Dr. Gunter Schmidt why we tried to come in the back way.”
Hannah scrambled behind Rex as he led the way along the crude road and back up the trail toward the cable crossing. The rough vehicle track veered off down to the left as their trail took a fork up to the right. “See that?” He pointed to the track. “It must run from the property here down into White River Park, where you go jogging. You can probably access this through the back of the park and get down to the highway.”
Hannah’s lungs were raw by the time they reached the dreaded metal box. Pain nagged at her injured rib as she panted. Her thighs burned.
The sound of barking dogs faded into the distance.
“Whew. What was that about?” Rex swiped the back of his hand across his forehead.
Hannah didn’t have the energy to answer. She struggled to regain her breath against the pain of her injury.
Rex let the heavy pack slide from his shoulders with a thunk to the ground. He dug out the water bottle, offered it to Hannah. His back was damp where the pack had rested.
Pain seared across her ribs as she downed the liquid. She’d have to take it easy the rest of the way.
“Looks like Dr. Schmidt and the spa gang are real serious about security.”
“I guess paparazzi can be quite persistent.” Her words came in breathy bursts.
“Paparazzi? You’ve got to be kidding? I can’t see it, not back here.”
“Hey, if they rent helicopters to spy on a hot movie star they could easily climb out this way to nab a picture and make a quick buck.”
“True enough. But I sure didn’t see any movie star types back there. And dogs, cameras, electric fences? Seems extreme.” He helped her into the cable car and started hauling them across the gorge. “I’m guessing Gunter uses that back gate when he goes hiking. Maybe his ‘guests’ use it, too. Access to the wilderness backyard, one of the spa perks.” His words came like gusts, with each powerful heft of his hands as he hauled them over the gorge.
“Yeah, well one of those spa perks is absolute confidentiality. Perhaps the heavy security guarantees that.”
He grunted. “Perhaps.”
The path back up to Grizzly Hut seemed steeper on the return. Hannah was relieved to reach a sunny clearing fringed by fireweed at the halfway mark. She flopped onto the ground.
Rex looked down at her, raised an eyebrow. “Time for a lunch break?”
“Don’t look at me like that! It’s way beyond lunch. And did you hear me complaining?”
A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He checked his watch. “Like I said, I’ve got bad habits.”
“You’re telling me,” she muttered.
“What’s that, you said?”
“Nothing. What’s in that picnic they packed for you?” She nodded toward his pack—then froze.
She heard a sound.
A huff.
The sound was a mixture of forced wind and a bark. She knew instantly what it was. It curled the fine hairs on the back of her neck and shot adrenaline through her system.
They were downwind from the sound. Good.
She stood up quietly and placed her hand on Rex’s forearm in firm, silent warning.
Rex stilled at the urgency in her touch.
She had her finger on her lips, eyes wide. Then she moved her hand from her mouth to slowly part the dying fireweed. Her gentle gesture sent a silent flurry of soft white fluff into the air. Seeds like snow in summer. Some settled on her hair, a nimbus of gold covered in white fluffs of confetti. She looked like a beautiful mountain bride. The sight of her like that threw Rex. It was a punch to the gut, just the thought of it.
She whispered. “There. Over there.”
He turned to follow her hand.
“They don’t know we’re here. We’re downwind.”
Yards from where they crouched behind the curtain of fireweed, a hulk of a black beast lumbered toward a smaller honey-colored bear. The big beast’s stance was aggressive. Rex figured he must weigh at least five-hundred pounds.
A small black cub moved confusedly, bleating at the golden-brown sow’s feet.
“Black bear.” She kept her voice low.
“But that one’s blond.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Black bears come in a range of colors.”
Another whoof came in a rush of air from the sow’s chest. She stomped her feet, legs stiff and she chomped her jaws making popping sounds, warning off the male. Then she made another little sound, a pleading noise. It sent her cub scampering up a conifer.
The tiny bear made plaintive little noises, crying out to its mother as she fended off the massive male predator below. Rex figured the baby bear’s sounds were something between a little goat and a lamb.
The mother bear held her ground as the male paced, irritably, back and forth.
“He’s looking to mate with her.” Hannah whispered in his ear. “She won’t accept him as long as she has a young cub with her.”
The smaller honey-brown bear charged at the massive male, her thick golden-brown fur rippling over her body.
It was a mock charge, but there was nothing deceptive about her intentions. Rex figured she would probably die fighting to protect her little one hanging in the tree. She’d kill to get this male out of her space.
The large bear moved to the left and then the right, evaluating, swaying his heavy head side to side, before slowly retreating.
The sow had beaten him off.
Hannah’s hand was still tight on his forearm. He could feel adrenaline humming through his blood.
“Typical.”
He looked at her. “What?”
She was still whispering. “The male impregnates the sow and then leaves her alone to fend for the offspring while he goes off, wandering to find another mate.” Her eyes were flashing gold sparks of anger. “If that little cub is a male, the big bear will kill it in a few years if it doesn’t move on out of his way and find its own territory.”
He was surprised at her sudden vehemence. “It’s the way of the wild, Hannah. You can’t personify.”
She paused, looking into his eyes, searching. “It’s about propagating the species. Sex. Not that much more to it than that. Is there?”
And she wasn’t talking about bears. She wasn’t far off. At least that was his experience.
But what he felt for Hannah, that was different.
Sure it was about lust and sex. Exquisite sex. But he wanted more. He wanted to grow old with this woman. To share her spirit for life. To keep her safe. He cared for her.
But he’d known from a young age you didn’t get something just because you wanted it. And keeping her safe meant keeping his life and what he did for a living separate from her.
It was best for both of them.
Yet after last night, the world looked a little different. Something deep inside him had shifted. He wasn’t sure what. He felt a sudden sick little slide in his stomach at the thought of what they were doing to each other.
He looked back through the fireweed at the mother bear. She was calling her cub down from the tree. Gentle, encouraging little sounds.
He studied Hannah’s face as she watched the little cub scamper and slide backward down the tree. Her eyes shimmered with emotion. This vignette was tugging at her heart strings.
He touched her gently on the arm. “Perhaps we should take our own picnic elsewhere.”
“Right. We should move on. I’m not really hungry anymore, anyway.” Her tone was melancholy as she started slowly up the trail, her shoulders slightly slumped. She was tired. They should rest at the cabin.
He hefted his pack onto his back and followed in her steps, pondering her sudden switch in mood.
It was close to five o’clock when they reached Grizzly Hut, almost time for the last gondola ride down.
Rex set his pack down on the wooden stairs leading up to the hut, noting the pile of chopped wood tucked under them.
Hannah sat on a rock nearby. She looked so alone, so tired against the vast backdrop of sky. He went to her. “We have choices, Hannah.”
“I know.”
“We can catch the last gondola down. We can hike down once we’ve rested a little. Or, we could camp out here. I came prepared.”
She looked up at him. “Prepared?”
“I have a sleeping bag. Just in case. It’s big enough for two.”
A flicker of humor lit her eyes, chasing away the shadows he’d seen lurking there. “You’re something else, Rex. You’re a regular Boy Scout, aren’t you?”
“Military training.”
“Right.” She sighed and looked out over the amphitheater of peaks. “I don’t have the energy for a hike down.” She took a deep careful breath, as if her rib was troubling her again. “And I really don’t feel like going back down to join reality right now.” She smiled, gentle, soft, a little sad, up at him. “Let’s camp.”
Melting the Ice Page 15
