by Dale Mayer
“Oh, that makes so much sense.” She laughed. “Let’s slide then.”
And that’s what they did.
As they neared the cabin, someone from inside must have seen them because before they came to a stop just in front, they’d all tumbled out to see them.
“Oh man, if I’d known you were going to go sliding, I’d have come, too!” complained Stevie.
“I had no plans to throw myself down the mountain on a little piece of plastic,” Stacy said with a laugh. “Boards yes. Plastic no.”
George reached down and helped her to her feet. “You look like you had a blast.”
“I did.” She beamed up at him. “We had tons of fun.”
She watched him nod at Royce behind her back, thankfulness in that glance. She reached out and hugged her brother. “I’m feeling much better.”
“Good.”
With his arm wrapped around her, George turned to look up the mountain. His forehead creased. He looked from her to Royce and back again. “You were with Yvonne, right?”
Stacy shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her. Why?”
“She hasn’t come back, and no one remembers seeing her since last night. Possibly this morning.”
“I saw her this morning,” Stacy said. “But she wasn’t here when we came back around lunchtime nor have I seen her since.” She turned to Royce and asked, “Have you?”
He shook his head. “I can’t remember the last time I saw her. She was with us until just before lunch then we split up and I met up with you.”
Stevie announced, grabbing his coat and gloves. “Therefore she’s gone missing. And that’s no good.”
*
Royce contacted search and rescue and was one of the first to volunteer. They’d been to the resort enough over the years that their assistance had been requested in the past. Now hours later, he was cold and chilled and bad weather was moving in quickly. All the public venues had been checked, the local runs searched and her photograph shown to everyone. The initial hope that she’d stopped off at a pub for a beer waned when all restaurants and pubs were checked and there was still no sign of her. It was dark. The four of them that had been part of the search and rescue volunteer group drove up to the cabin. Lights blazed inside. Geoffrey had stayed behind with Kathleen and Stacy in case Yvonne had returned on her own. They’d been in phone contact with each other all evening, but there’d been no sign of her.
Now with the search called off for the night because of encroaching bad weather, everyone was exhausted and somber. It would be a long night for Yvonne if she was out there in the elements. It was only slightly reassuring that she was an old hand at winter sports.
“I can’t believe after all our efforts to keep the group together that she’s gone missing.” George’s voice was hard, angry. He couldn’t hold his frustration back. He looked like he wanted to punch something.
“She could have picked up a stranger and planned a private evening with someone.”
“You’d likely know about that, right?” George asked, staring at Royce. “Wasn’t she after you?”
Royce winced. “Not really. I turned her down.”
“Really?” Stevie leaned forward. In an aggrieved voice, he added, “Wow. You could have turned her my way.”
Royce managed a smile, albeit a poor one. “Wish I could have, buddy.”
“Why would you turn her down?” asked Mark.
“Ha,” Stevie grinned. “His interests lie elsewhere.”
There was an odd silence as Mark considered the problem. He said in a pensive voice, “So?”
Royce let out a bark of laughter and hopped out of the truck. He walked to the cabin door to find the rest of the group standing just inside, hope and fear on their faces. He shook his head.
Gasps filled the air and tears immediately came to Kathleen’s eyes. She ran past Royce and threw herself into George’s arms.
Stacy walked forward and in a low voice asked him, “Nothing at all?”
He shook his head. “No one has seen her.” He was so damn tired now. Inside and out. Dispirited, he took off his coat and hung it up on the hook. Then bent over to take off his snow-packed boots. When he straightened, he realized he was the last male in the room…and Stacy still stood before him. He could smell the coffee behind her. He glanced at her curiously, wondering why she stood there, almost awkwardly in front. When he went to move around her, she put out an arm to stop him.
He stepped back slightly out of view of the others. “What?” he asked in a low voice.
“This,” she said. And stepped forward to hug him.
His arms closed around her. Surprised but delighted, he held her against him. Something he’d wanted to do – and had been doing in a different way – all day. Just knowing she was there, safe, caring to be with him, offering him comfort…it mattered. After a long moment, she stepped back with a smile. “We need to join the others before they come looking for us.”
He didn’t give a damn if they did. He just wanted her back in his arms.
“Stacy?”
She stopped at his voice and looked at him.
“Why?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You looked like you needed it.” She turned and left him standing in the middle of the room.
He had needed it. Looking for Yvonne had been difficult. There were often deaths on a mountain like this. It went with the territory. But he sure didn’t want any to happen on his watch. No, he wasn’t responsible for Yvonne having gone missing – but it felt like he was. At least partially. He knew they would all feel that way.
And until they found her, there’d be no answers.
He walked down toward his room and stopped at the doorway. Stacy was talking to Kathleen not far away. He called her over. “Stacy, when you took a look into the rooms earlier today, was her stuff in here, like this?” He nodded to her bag that had been dumped upside down on her bed.
Stacy joined him at the doorway. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. Would she have done that herself?”
Kathleen stepped up and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Royce called out to the group in general. “Did any of you notice Yvonne’s bag earlier? Was it always dumped upside down like it is now? Did anyone here touch it?”
The others crowded around.
“It looked like that when I saw it.”
“No, I didn’t touch it.”
“I looked earlier,” Kathleen said, “I wondered if she had taken her wallet. If she had money, then she could be in the pub.”
“Good thought.” Royce walked inside the room and gazed at the items on the bed. “I don’t see it here, did you?”
Kathleen brushed forward and joined him. “It didn’t look like this before. And her wallet was right here.” She flipped the bag back on its proper end and shifted the items on Yvonne’s bed. “It was here.”
“So she might have come back and gotten it?” That would be good news. Maybe she’d been the one who rifled through Stacy’s stuff. Or someone altogether different had and after finding Yvonne’s wallet, had taken it. Shit.
“Stacy and I wondered if someone had searched our belongings today.” He turned to the others. “I suggest you all check your own stuff and make sure nothing is missing. I have to pack up Yvonne’s stuff for the police. They were supposed to be here tonight but given the storm that just moved in, it will likely be morning.” The others scattered as he unceremoniously stuffed all of Yvonne’s belongings back inside her backpack.
A new face appeared in the doorway.
Royce started. Shit, he’d forgotten that the other two would be joining them. “Kevin, I know you just got here today, sorry man.”
Kevin stood awkwardly to the side. “Christine and I got in about an hour ago. I’m sorry about Yvonne. That sucks.”
He looked around the large cabin. “I left my gear outside in the boot room. Not sure where everyone has bunked down. Is there an empty bed or do I join whoever is in the loft?”
&
nbsp; There was a tiny gasp from behind him, and Royce knew instinctively that having Kevin join Stacy up there would not be her choice.
“I’m moving anyway,” Royce said, snagging up his gear and putting it all together. He left Yvonne’s bed alone. “I’d like to keep her bed for her – just in case.”
“Oh, absolutely. But I don’t want to chase you away,” Kevin protested.
“You’re not.” Royce grinned. “I’ve been planning this move all along.”
And he turned, brushed past a narrow-eyed Stacy, and walked up the stairs to the loft where he casually dropped his gear and returned to the living room and the waiting coffeepot.
She never said a word.
Damn right.
*
“Sounds like a tough week for you guys,” Kevin said to the room at large. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The room quieted down even further.
“We’ve done all we can do for now,” Geoffrey said grimly. “Let’s hope she’s tucked away nice and warm somewhere enjoying life so much she never thought to check in.”
“I hope so,” Stacy said.
“I don’t know Yvonne all that well.” Kevin glanced over at Stacy before his gaze continued to Kathleen. “Is she the kind to take off like this?”
He settled back, trying to fit into the group that had been together for days already and feeling a bit like an outsider. He knew them all. Had gone on trips with them all, although not very often. And not with all of them in this same group.
“No. I wouldn’t think so,” Kathleen said, tucked up close to George. “She’d shown interest in Royce, so I’d have thought she’d have worked hard to get back to him.”
Kevin looked over at Royce and hid his grin. Royce looked decidedly uncomfortable as the others chuckled and elbowed each other at his expense.
“Ah well, maybe she’s having dinner with someone who is more appreciative,” Stevie said, grinning. He glanced at the kitchen where Christine and Mark were working hard. “Is there food coming soon?”
“Yep. Be right there.” Christine called back.
Someone’s stomach growled loudly. Kevin shrugged as everyone looked at him. “Sorry. Long drive here.” He called out to Christine in the kitchen. “I’m surprised you’re doing okay, Christine. You drove in with me.”
“Ha, I’ve been snacking while I’ve been cooking.”
“That was smart.” He could have gone in and snacked too but felt odd with all the other males out searching for the missing woman. Thankfully it looked like dinner was just about ready.
“And food is here.” Christine said, coming out with a huge cookie sheet full of nacho chips covered in ground beef and onions topped with cheese, and all along the sides were big piles of guacamole and sour cream.
“Oh yum.”
“Yay, food.”
Mark came up from behind with a second tray. Both trays were placed an equal distance apart on the table and as soon as their hands were gone, the crowd dug in.
Christine and Mark came back with several bottles of wine and a third tray.
After that, it was chaos. Kevin was glad he’d come in right now.
The only thing that bothered him was their ability to forget the missing woman. He could almost understand.
But if he was that missing person, he’d sure be hoping they’d be looking for him all night.
*
They were all fools. If they were really friends, they’d have gone looking for her even if the search had been called off until first light.
Idiots. They still had no clue. Of course that’s how he wanted it, but it would be so much fun to add an element of suspense to this mess. But he wouldn’t give himself away. This was too much fun to cut short.
Besides, he had worked hard. If he was the only one to appreciate his skill, then so be it.
Too bad though, he’d love to have someone show some appreciation.
He studied Stacy. Maybe if he kept her alive long enough, maybe she’d come to understand.
Maybe she’d see him for who he really was. Finally.
Chapter 23
The evening was subdued as everyone kept expecting the phone to ring or a vehicle to come up to the door and Yvonne to walk inside. It never happened. There was no word from her or about her. Neither did she come home. Stacy, already in her pjs, sat curled in the armchair all evening, sipping her wine. She’d hoped this wouldn’t be a sleepless night but given the circumstances…the wind picked up outside, screaming through the cabin and howling as it pounded on the door. Several times she jumped, thinking it was Yvonne trying to open the door against the wind.
Royce leaned over and patted her hand. “It’s just the wind.”
“I know.” She gave him a small smile. “I just keep hoping it’s her.”
“We all are.”
She nodded. The long day was having an effect on her. Not to mention the warm fire and the several glasses of wine she’d had to help her relax. She couldn’t get over the thought of Yvonne lying injured in the snow somewhere wondering if she’d make it through the night. And damn if it didn’t bring back all the old fears of her friends being buried alive in that damn avalanche. She hadn’t slept for months after the accident, always waking up from the nightmare of seeing her friends waiting for rescue – a rescue that never came.
She stood up slowly, feeling her muscles seize up. She gently stepped around the many legs stretched out in front of the fire.
“Are you heading to bed, Stacy?” George asked quietly.
She nodded. “That sledding wore me out today. I was laughing and screaming so much my throat is feeling a little rough.”
He frowned. “That’s not good. Your immune system is already shot.”
She’d have hugged him if she could reach him, but he appeared to be cradling Kathleen in his arms as she snored gently.
“She needs to go to bed, too,” Stacy said, nodding toward Kathleen.
“I’m thinking we all do.” Royce stood up. “I’m beat.”
“Yeah, me too.” Stevie stood up. “Good night all.”
Stacy called out to him as he started toward the bathroom. “Goodnight, Stevie, you worked hard today, you need some sleep.”
“Ha, I work hard every day,” but his words slurred. His eyes dropped, and damn if he didn’t sway in place. As Stacy watched in alarm, Royce walked over and led him down the hall to his room.
“Almost there.” At the doorway, Royce gave him a gentle push. “Go lie down.”
Stevie went like an obedient puppy.
Stacy stood on the bottom of the stairs and felt her heart melt a little. Royce had done just the right thing. Stevie was a big kid, but he’d had a tough day. To know Royce could take care of others like he did said a lot about who he was on the inside.
And she found she liked that inside man more and more.
After brushing her teeth, the same lassitude that had overtaken Stevie filled her bones. Then he’d had more wine than she had. Chances were good the alcohol was stripping the energy from her bones.
Just moving up the stairs made her feel like she’d gained a hundred pounds. As she crested over the top step, Royce pounded up the stairs after her.
“Are you okay, Stacy?” he asked. “You are starting to scare me.”
“I’m fine,” she muttered, not even trying to hold back a yawn. “Just did too much today.” She stumbled over to her bed, crawled in and pulled the covers up to her chin.
“Stacy,” his voice sounded strange.
“Hmmm?” she mumbled, so grateful to be in her bed at this moment. It was cold but her skin was colder, so even that little bit felt wonderful. She slowly relaxed.
“Stacy,” Royce snapped sharply. “Look at me.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
He shook her shoulders hard, her head snapping back and forth.
“Ouch. Stop that, it hurts.”
“Good. Open your eyes.”
“No, go
away.” She wanted to be pissed, but there was no heat in her voice. She tried again. “Leave me alone. I just want to sleep.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Royce lowered his head, “Think, Stacy. You are too sleepy. Too tired. This isn’t normal for you.”
She struggled to think from behind the black fog in her mind. “No, been sick. Did too much.”
“Maybe, but if you’d open your eyes, you would see how dilated they are.”
Silly. “I’ve been drinking,” she mumbled, trying and failing to open them. “Course they’re going to be dilated.”
Her eyelids were roughly opened and light flashed.
She wanted to cry out but couldn’t. She sagged against him, heard the heartfelt “shit” coming out of his mouth – then knew no more.
*
Shit, shit, shit. Royce cradled Stacy’s limp body in his arms for a long moment. He laid her back down on the bed and stared at her precious face. Stevie had been just as tired. Then he remembered Kathleen. He leaned over the railing and stared down into the darkness. The only light was coming from the fire. The flames flickered and danced as if appreciating an audience – finally.
Royce raced down the stairs. George snored on the couch; Kathleen snored gently in his lap.
He raced to Stevie’s room to find Mark already out cold just like the others.
“Kevin?” He pushed the door open. The heavy rhythmic noise coming from Kevin’s chest said much about the depth of his slumber. Christine slept in a tight ball above him. Geoffrey snored loudly on the opposite bunk. They’d all helped kill several bottles of wine tonight.
Royce spun around and ran back to George. He lifted Kathleen and carried her to George’s bed then came back and shook George’s shoulder hard. When that got no reaction but a disjointed movement of his head, Royce hauled back and smacked him across the face. George groaned. Royce repeated it. George groaned again. “Wha—”
Royce smacked him a third time.
George’s eyes popped open and he glared at Royce. “You’d better have a hell of a reason for doing that.”
“Everyone’s been drugged.”
