Ice Lake: Gone ColdCold HeatStone Cold

by Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ

  Another order?

  He’d grabbed her ski pole when she’d tried to leave him.

  She had no smile for him then. She’d cut him deep with one of her fingernails. She’d broken the skin.

  The rage had swelled inside him. And then he’d showed her who was weak.

  The rush of power, the satisfaction of knowing he had bested her, despite her smiles and tricks and threats, had flowed through his veins, canceling out the cold, giving him strength.

  Standing up, he spread his fingers in front of his face and forced them to stop shaking. They were battle-scarred now. But they were powerful hands, a true man’s hands.

  Oh, yes, he wanted to put these hands on Kylie Webber.

  He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze until there was no more fight left in her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SOMEHOW DANIEL HAD imagined that keeping Kylie safe while she investigated Stacy Beecham’s murder and tracked down the missing half of a pair of serial killers involved her being locked in a windowless room with him standing guard. And while the rational part of his brain knew Kylie would never allow such a thing, he hadn’t really expected that the first words out of her mouth in her brother’s office would be, “Show me the body.”

  So now they were being buffeted by forty-mile-an-hour winds on the face of Mount Atlas and digging an extra foot of snow off the Mylar blanket he’d covered the body with only a few hours earlier.

  Even with his glare-resistant sun goggles, he was getting a headache from keeping a vigilant eye on the weather, signs of unwanted company on the deserted slope, and on the tautly rounded backside of Deputy Kylie Webber as she knelt down beside the reflective marking flag that was half buried in the snow.

  At least one enemy was giving up the fight. Although the temps outside were nothing to mess with, the wind was settling down from those sixty-five-mile-an-hour gusts. And if he used his imagination, the sky had a shade more color through the treetops than the whiteout conditions of even a half hour earlier. The storm was waning. But it would be nightfall before it finished. And then the real threat of avalanche, plus the digging out and making Mount Atlas habitable for humans again, would really begin.

  The conditions were still too treacherous for the skis strapped to their survival packs, so they’d suited up in snowshoes and trekked almost a mile up into the trees to dig out Stacy Beecham’s frozen body and find out if the killer had left any clues behind.

  “I’ve got it.” Kylie set aside the portable shovel as a corner of shiny silver Mylar peeped through the snow.

  Daniel pulled his gaze from the unknown secrets lurking in the shadows among the trees, and squatted down beside her to help brush away the last of the snow by hand. Kylie worked quickly, quietly, while every bump of a boot or knee or face that was revealed pushing through the material as they removed the snow took him to a darker, more dangerous place inside himself.

  “All right.” She handed him one corner of the blanket and stepped across to the other. “The snow is packed in pretty hard and deep around her, but when I lift this, I’ll need you to hold it up to keep the wind from blowing more in.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kylie arched an eyebrow above the rim of her sunglasses at his response, but was all business as they peeled the Mylar away from the body. First the blond hair. Then the dark, matted gash in Stacy’s scalp. Then the eyes.

  Daniel’s stomach clenched and the cold fingers of an awful memory clawed at his soul. Her eyes were still open. Staring. Afraid. He had to look away.

  Another innocent, gone. Someone who trusted men like him to keep them safe was dead.

  Daniel fought off the clawing fingers, and reached over to take hold of the blanket, to create a wind block so Kylie could examine the scene. He’d lost a young boy and a group of men who’d been good Marines and friends. Two women, murdered by different men, had died in the past two days here at Ice Lake.

  He wouldn’t lose Kylie, too.

  She pulled off her insulated gloves and swapped them out for plastic ones she pulled from her coat pocket.

  “Work fast,” he warned. If she showed any signs of exposure or frostbite, he’d get her off this mountain just as quickly as he intended to if he spotted anyone who could be the Big Sky Strangler’s missing partner.

  With a nod, she flexed her fingers and snapped some photos with the camera she’d looped around her neck. After tucking it back inside her coat, she blew on her fingers and rubbed them together.

  “Put your gloves on,” he cautioned.

  “I’m not done yet.” Ignoring the practicality of covering her extremities in the windy, chilled air, and unaware of the knot twisting in his stomach, she brushed a clump of blood-streaked hair off the victim’s bruised face.

  Daniel wanted to look away, but refused to. Not that he was much help in the forensic department, but he didn’t want Kylie to deal with the gruesome scene alone. Hell, he didn’t want her to deal with it, period.

  He’d seen limbs ripped from bodies, heard the cries of dying men on the battlefield, watched a little boy…

  “Definitely signs of petechial hemorrhaging around the eyes.” Kylie’s curt analysis forced him back to this place and time. “She was strangled.” He wondered at the trembling in Kylie’s fingers. Was she feeling the cold? Or the enormity of the task at hand? She unzipped the top of the woman’s ski suit and touched her fingers to the bruise marks around her neck. “I’m no CSI, but this looks like the guy did it with his hands. With the Big Sky Strangler dead, I’d say this is his partner’s work. We’ve definitely got another killer out here.”

  “That’s a comfort.” If she was looking for Daniel to hold up his end of a conversation, sarcasm was all he could manage.

  Perhaps she was finally understanding why having her take charge of this investigation was scaring the life out of him. That could be her on the ground with bruised eyes and a crushed throat, with only a pair of strangers and Mother Nature to mourn her violent passing. Kylie tilted her face up to him and smiled. It was a serene picture of beauty and reassurance. “I’m done.”

  He nodded, willing it to be true.

  She rezipped Stacy’s outfit, helped him tuck the Mylar back into place, and then pushed herself to her feet. Daniel reached for the shovel and quickly reanchored the covering, while Kylie peeled off her plastic gloves and walked a wide circle from tree to tree around the body. “This scene reads like a blitz attack. I’m guessing she realized she was in trouble about as soon as he lured her away from the ski slope. She tried to get away, put up a fight. He had to subdue her with the blow to the head before he could get his hands around her throat.”

  Daniel tossed another scoop of snow over the blanket. “How do you know that?”

  “All the blood.” Kylie shoved her hands into the pockets of her sheepskin-lined coat. “It’s hard to tell how much of it has soaked into the snow and ground beneath her, but she lost a lot of it from that head wound before she died.”

  He couldn’t stop imagining Kylie lying under that blanket. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut against the haunting image that filled his head. His breath shuddered through his chest.

  A firm hand squeezed his forearm, dragging him out of the darkness that consumed him. Daniel’s eyes popped open and zeroed in on the pale fingers resting against the bright sleeve of his jacket. Kylie’s soft voice whispered beside his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see this.”

  He pushed his goggles up onto the cuff of his stocking cap and angled his eyes to hers. “I’ve been in a war. I’ve seen bodies.”

  “There are things you expect to see in a war zone that you don’t expect to find in your own backyard. Handling something like this without losing your lunch or cursing or crying or going nuts—it’s a mental game.”

  His laugh was a wry sound that held no humor. “Tell me about it.”

  “Daniel…” Those deep blue eyes captured his and held on tight. A frown of confusion, of sorrow, perhaps, ma
rred her smooth features. She pried the shovel from his unresisting grip and dropped it in the snow as she circled in front of him. And then his bold, brave Kylie reached up to capture his face between her hands. Even through the dusting of his beard, her bare fingers were ice-cold against his skin. But they were a cool balm to the feverish memories—a gentle reminder that she was real and alive, and the ghosts that haunted him had no power here in this moment. With this woman. “What happened to you on that last deployment? It must have been something terrible to make you withdraw from me like you have. I think it’s a defense you’ve thrown up between us. Help me understand. You know I’m a good listener. It’s hard to shock me. And nobody cares about how you’re hurting more than I do.”

  He was quickly learning that nothing about Kylie Webber could surprise him—except for her unflinching loyalty to him and what they’d once meant to each other. And the idea that she hadn’t moved on to someone who was safer, saner and a lot less complicated than the man he’d become. Part of him was touched by that undeserved devotion to their past, and part of him felt more guilty than ever at seeing the sexy, sassy brunette unattached and alone and worried about him, when she could have kids and a career and a man who loved her the way she deserved to be loved.

  Although her familiar touch soothed something inside him, Daniel pulled her stiff fingers from his face. He rubbed her cold hands between his, lifted them to his lips and blew his warm breath over them. He wasn’t sure he could have this conversation yet. But for her, he’d try.

  He focused on her fingers instead of the compassionate curiosity in her eyes. “I lost…too much. I can’t…find my way back to…normal. And I don’t want…” to dump on you the way I’m doing right now.

  His hands stilled around hers. He raised his gaze to her upturned face and took in the dark wisps of hair peeking from beneath her cap and dancing against her skin. He noted the parted invitation of her full pink lips. He saw the undeserved patience and caring shining from the depths of those beautiful blue eyes. But she couldn’t fix him. She shouldn’t have to. He was paranoid and suspicious, and too damn afraid to attach himself to anyone or anything he might lose or destroy.

  But they had history, and, oh, she made it so tempting to go back to that idyllic innocence they’d once shared. Giving in to one moment of the fantasy, he cupped his hands on either side of her jaw, bent his head and covered her mouth in a kiss.

  Long-denied needs and remembered passions flared inside him, and he slipped his tongue between her lips and claimed a deep taste of her. If she’d protested or gasped with surprise, he would have stopped. But Kylie rose up onto her toes, curled her fingers into the front of his coat and demanded he concede to the bond that still burned between them.

  Her lips softened, warmed, beckoned. She tasted of coffee and woman and happier times.

  And the moment she leaned into him and he braced his feet apart, the demons got inside his head and he pushed her away. This was what he could lose. This generous, beautiful woman was the one thing he refused to tarnish.

  Planting a quick kiss of apology on her lips, he released her entirely. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  A dark brow arched above that perceptive gaze. “Sorry about almost opening up to me? Or reminding me that you’re the man who taught me how to kiss?”

  Dead body? Killer in the wind? Blizzard? He wasn’t going to let old feelings or his own screwed-up needs get in the way of protecting Kylie.

  “Are we good to go now?” He plucked her gloves from her pocket and handed them to her. “We’re pretty exposed to the elements out here. Better put those on.”

  “All right. Small steps it is. For now.” The smile she offered never reached her eyes, but at least she wasn’t pressing him to keep talking, or rubbing in the fact that he was the one who’d started that kiss, when he’d been insisting for months that they could never again be more than friends. She pulled on her gloves and fixed her sunglasses back over her eyes. “I’ve got what I need. Any more details will have to come from a CSI and an autopsy.”

  While Daniel packed their gear, Kylie tried her radio again. “This is Deputy Webber to Granite County One. Over? Come in, Granite County One.”

  She rotated between channels, getting a mix of static and silence. But no sheriff’s office.

  “Do you really think you’re going to raise anyone up here?”

  “A girl can always hope.” There was no missing the double entendre she tossed over her shoulder at him.

  But false hope was worse than no hope. And until this killer was found, and Daniel could get his head screwed on straight, he wouldn’t give her either one. “Let’s get back to the lodge, warm up and get some dinner in us.”

  “Warm sounds pretty good.” Apparently willing, for the moment, to ignore that kiss and concentrate on the business at hand, Kylie bent down to strap her snowshoes back onto her boots.

  Daniel seized the opportunity to pull out his binoculars and point them to the top of the mountain. There were no signs that the killer had returned to the scene of the crime or followed the ski lift up to the roundhouse to hide out. Of course, by this time of the late afternoon, all but the most recent of footprints would have been wiped out by the blizzard. But he was also checking for signs of snow disturbance. Was the snow drifting deeply against the roundhouse’s door? Or had someone cleared a path to get inside?

  Plenty deep. The entrance to the nearby supply cabin remained blocked with snow, too.

  “You think he went up that way?” Kylie asked, shrugging her pack onto her back.

  But Daniel had shifted his binoculars to the perilous overhang of snow growing over the edge of the granite outcropping above the edge of the tree line.

  “Daniel?”

  He handed her binoculars and pointed out his concern. “Check that out. About thirty yards north of the roundhouse.”

  “Do you think the snow will hold?” She returned the binoculars, the frown line between her eyes indicating she understood the danger he’d pointed out. “If that gives, do you think the avalanche will hit the lodge? Should we call Kent?”

  Daniel was already turning to the radio clipped to his coat. “I’ll report it. Although I’m guessing at that angle, it’ll hit through the trees, probably take out this half of the ski run. It’ll bury Stacy’s body for sure.”

  “Then we need to get moving. We need to find this guy before the mountain wipes out every last trace of him.”

  Daniel called in the avalanche warning, and promised Kent he’d get his sister off the mountain before the ridge of snow came crashing down on them. Kent said he’d see about boarding up the big windows facing the slope, and move the guests to the far side of the lodge as a precaution. Depending on the size of the slide and how firmly packed the snow was, it might not even reach the lodge. But it would definitely hit the shelters nestled in the trees on this side of Ice Lake.

  “I’ll send a couple of men out to make sure we don’t have any homeless stragglers taking refuge in the lake cabins.”

  The cabins. There were ones farther north on the mountain, already evacuated, that were cut off from any sort of transportation. But the lake cabins were still accessible on foot. Daniel swung his binoculars down through the trees. Instincts and training that had served him well as a Marine were kicking in, sharpening his senses, quickening his thinking time. Spotting the places where the killer might hide on the mountain wasn’t all that different from knowing where the enemy lay hidden in a remote desert village. “Keep your men there,” he told Kent. “We’ll check them out on our way down.”

  “What are you thinking?” Kylie asked after he signed off.

  Daniel turned her around to untie her ski poles from her pack. While the snowshoes gave them surer footing, they’d make better time if they took a more challenging route straight down through the trees. “That there are a lot of places away from the lodge that bastard could hide. If he had a heat source and a few emergency supplies, he could wait out the storm
. If he’s got the right kind of gear and a good sense of direction, he could hike out of here in a day or two and we’d never see him again.”

  “We’re checking out the cabins by the lake?” She returned the favor and handed him his ski poles.

  He assessed the color on her cheeks to see if she was up to this. “Can you still feel all your fingers and toes?”

  Kylie nodded.

  “Then let’s take the scenic route back to the lodge.” Daniel studied the spacing of the trees, the lay of the rocks and size of the drifts around them before setting out on the steep descent. The last thing he needed was for one of them to take a tumble down the mountain or fall into a snow well. “Follow my path. We can circle down by the lake and check the buildings there without going too far out of our way.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  KYLIE SWALLOWED a spoonful of spicy tomato soup and let the soothing warmth of it slide all the way down her throat before answering her brother’s question.

  “We found some signs of activity around two of the cabins on the uphill side of the lake.” She bit into her grilled cheese sandwich and checked the ski patrol office again to make sure the doors to the infirmary and hallway were still closed, and that no one was eavesdropping. “Old footprints covered by snow. It looks like someone tried to break into the first cabin, but couldn’t get the door to budge. The lock had been forced on the other one.”

  Daniel picked up his second sandwich. “Someone may have been inside at some point during the storm, but no one is in any of those cabins now.”

  Kent let them eat a little more before saying, “Last I heard from those two FBI agents who took out the Big Sky Strangler, they’d gotten cut off by the snow trying to get back to Graniteville, and are outside of communication. I gave them directions to one of the remote shelters before we lost radio contact. If they’d been able to make it as far as the lake, I’m guessing they would have come on to the lodge.”