Chilled by Death

by Dale Mayer

  She gripped her cup, the whites of her knuckles showing. But all she could see was the white from that day. “I turned back to find them…”

  She faltered. Stevie came and sat down beside her and held her other hand. She gave him a grateful smile and returned to her story. “I crested over the top of the mountain, and by that time I knew where they were. I was on top, looking down, and I could see them way below having a wonderful time.” She smiled wistfully. Then her smile fell away and she gazed at the man waiting, memories haunting her. “Then an avalanche started.”

  She stopped and swallowed. “I screamed at them. But of course they couldn’t hear me.” She turned to stare at the cabin walls. The same cabin they’d stayed at that holiday. A cabin she’d sworn never to return to. “It hit them hard. They were picked up and swallowed like tiny krill eaten by a blue whale.” She sighed and fell silent a moment. “The avalanche went over a cliff and just kept going. Their bodies were never recovered.”

  There was an odd silence as the men digested that. Heavy in the air was the hanging question of how anything that happened a few years ago connected to the series of bizarre events now.

  Her smile was crooked when she answered that unspoken question. “So you see, the reason that I went in there is because I’m obsessed. I see women’s faces everywhere on this mountain. I saw a spectacular series of women’s faces on the frozen waterfall we were at the other day and I took a lot of pictures of it.” She felt more than saw Royce stand up and return with her camera.

  “I hated to come back here again, but at the same time I can’t get rid of the feeling that I might be able to find my friends and bring them home.” Her voice faltered. “I feel compelled to search everywhere, under every rock, inside every hollow – even though I know I’m nowhere near where they fell, I can’t let go of that little bit of hope.”

  “You were very close, I presume?” the cop asked.

  She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Very. It was always the three of us. We were a matched set. Just very different personalities. Janice was the daredevil and I was the opposite while Francine was in the middle, but she could be persuaded to go either way.”

  She paused, and the room was silent, as if they were all waiting for her to say more. When she spoke again, her voice cracked. “I’ve been lost since.”

  “Here are the images she saw on the waterfall.” Royce said, holding out the camera. Everyone crowded around. There were a few exclamations at the beauty in the ice.

  “Wow.”

  The second cop stepped forward. “I know you. You’re the photographer who photographs the faces of Mother Nature.”

  Stacy nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Now you know why faces.”

  He nodded, staring at the images. The cop clicked through them until Royce said, “Stop.” He pointed at the image. “This is the one that had us going back to look.”

  In the image was an eerie blackness in the ice, as if a cave was behind it.

  “Then she fell in the crevasse yesterday and thought she’d seen something more.” He looked over at Stacy for confirmation, then continued, “After we saw what appeared to be a man jump into the hole, we went back and found that opening.”

  “Did you know that it opened up, Stacy?” the cop asked.

  “The geographical layout said it could connect to the cave behind the waterfall, and once I saw that there was a dark shadow at the end of the pit I’d fallen from, I couldn’t get it out of my mind.” She shrugged. “I insisted on going back.”

  “Damn good thing,” the cop said. “Kathleen would be dead by now if you hadn’t.”

  She knew that. “But why was she there in the first place?”

  Royce piped up, “And how much does this have to do with the drugged wine and Yvonne?”

  As the second cop returned to his position at the wall, the other cop looked from one to the other. “They have to be connected. There’s too much going on with the ten of you for it not to be connected.”

  “Eight,” Stacy corrected sadly. “There are only eight of us here now.”

  *

  Royce listened to Stacy and her teary explanation. He had known she’d been badly affected by the loss of her friends, but he hadn’t really known. How could he? She hadn’t shared very much with him. Then again, he sat back thinking, he’d just come out of a short-term relationship with Janice. And likely Janice had told Stacy. He should have, too. No wonder she hadn’t been able to see him. Go out with him. Every time she’d looked at him, she would’ve felt the loss of her friends all over again.

  He damned himself for that weekend. He’d often wondered why bright, vivacious, man-eater Janice had come onto him at that time. Just after he’d asked Stacy out and had been laughingly told off as not being serious. Only he had been serious. And the rejection hadn’t been easy. Accepting Janice’s offer had been easier. It was an attitude of needing to be wanted after too many rejections that had driven down his self-esteem. His pattern. He’d only realized after the fateful weekend that to make something long-lasting with Stacy, he’d have to change. They’d both taken years to get to this point. And now it was all rearing its ugly head yet again.

  He could only hope she wouldn’t push him away. He squeezed her hand, unable to break contact with her just in case.

  The first cop was speaking in a quiet voice, “So you saw someone up there and he disappeared into the same crevasse that you fell into?”

  “As far as I could see.”

  She looked up at Royce and he nodded. “I saw him too.”

  “Him? For sure? Not Kathleen?”

  “Oh.” Stacy shook her head. “No, it wasn’t Kathleen I saw up there. At least, I don’t think so.”

  The cop nodded and wrote down a few more notes. “What are everyone’s plans at the moment?”

  “I’d like to go home,” Stacy said. “But given the time of day, the weather, that won’t likely be until morning, and that was our original plan.” And she was worried about George. Very worried. Usually he was with Kathleen.

  “There is a storm coming in tonight so if you are leaving, you need to leave now, but not before we have all your contact information.”

  “We can’t leave now. Half our group isn’t back yet.” Royce checked his watch. “They should be soon though.”

  Stevie’s cell phone went off at that point. “That’s George. He and Geoffrey are on the way back.”

  “No one has told him about Kathleen, have they?” Stacy asked. “He’s going to want to leave immediately to be at her side.”

  “If they don’t get back soon…” Royce said. “He may not be able to.”

  “Speaking of which,” the cop said, “we’re heading back to the station. If you leave, let us know who and when so we can keep track of you. And please stick together. Let’s have no one else go missing.”

  Royce stood. “We’ll let you know what we decide.”

  The cop nodded and walked to his partner’s side at the door. He turned back once he reached the doorway and gave them a warning look. “Stay safe.”

  It was a grim warning in light of what was going on. But a sensible one. Royce shook his hand. “Are you sure it’s safe for us to stay here?”

  The cop stared at him. “I’m not sure it’s safe for any of you anywhere. If you split up and head off to separate homes, you won’t know who’s been attacked, who’s gone missing, or who is doing these attacks. If you stay here together, maybe someone will show their hand.”

  And with that, they left.

  Chapter 37

  Stacy sat in front of the fire, using the mug to warm her cold hands. The conversation ranged from anger to disbelief. And her brother had yet to make it back. He’d texted several times to say they were coming. The weather had shifted and high winds were making their trip slow.

  She’d held back telling him anything. She wanted him back here safe and sound. Royce had called the hospital to find that Kathleen had made it there safely and they were slowly r
aising her body temperature and were optimistic about her chances. There was no change in Yvonne’s condition.

  For Stacy, that wasn’t good enough. She knew the worst would be telling her brother what happened. She stood up and stirred the stew, then added the prepped potatoes and some more seasoning. Somehow the dish had grown large enough to feed a dozen so she hoped the men were all hungry. She was anything but.

  Of course, her stomach was still nursing the caffeine she’d poured down to keep her going.

  Royce sat down on the couch and waited for her to join him.

  “Are you okay to stay the night?”

  She nodded. “I am.” She glanced over at him. “As long as I’m not sleeping alone.”

  “Not going to happen.” He slid an arm around her shoulders. “We need to keep an eye on everyone tonight.”

  “In more ways than one,” she added in a low voice. He hugged her gently.

  Outside, she heard noises over the wind. “Hopefully that’s George and Geoffrey.”

  “I’ll go see.” Royce stood, handed her his coffee, and stepped out to the boot room area. She could hear the raised voices as the men came in. Relief flooded her heart. Her brother was home safe. She felt so sorry for him for what she knew was to come.

  She waited, her body tense. The loud voices shut off to almost complete silence followed by yelling like she hadn’t heard before. Then a hard bounce as if her brother had picked Royce up and slammed him up against a wall. Her brother was quite capable of that. And given the circumstances, Royce would likely take it as well.

  There was more shouting and more pounding that seemed to make the whole cabin shake.

  When the silence hit again, she got up and walked over. Her brother sat on the bench, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking. Mark and Kevin stood there, looking at the ground, shaking their heads in disbelief. Geoffrey sat in stunned silence.

  She didn’t hesitate. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around her brother. Immediately, he buried his head against her and held her tight.

  She held on until the storm passed. When he was calmer, she sat down beside him and gave him the update she’d gotten from the hospital.

  “She’s going to pull through, George.”

  He nodded, his face in his hands. When he looked up at her, she could see the ravaged soul of a guilty conscience in the back.

  She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Tell me.”

  “She wanted to go home today. Get away from here. I wanted to stay one more day. Enjoy the mountain. Make something good to take away.”

  “I wanted to go too but at the same time, I didn’t need more bad memories to overcome the good,” Stacy said, “So I stayed for the same reason you did.”

  “Except she’d not have been hurt if we’d left,” he said bitterly. “If I’d listened to her, she’d – we’d be safe at home and thankful to be there.”

  “And now she’s safe in the hospital with staff who know what they are doing.”

  He gazed at her sorrowfully. “Did she say anything?”

  Stacy shook her head. “No. Not that I could hear.”

  She looked over at Royce, who shook his head as well. “Come in, get warm and grab some coffee. Dinner is almost ready. We can discuss what to do then.”

  George let Stacy lead him into the other room where everyone watched his slow, unsteady steps. Kathleen’s attack had hit him at a level she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want to see it ever again.

  The blow was too much even for a strong man.

  She served him coffee before going back to the kitchen to stir the pot simmering away. Then she realized something else. She turned and faced the others. Where was Christine?

  “It smells good, Stacy,” Royce said.

  “Who cares about food?” Kevin said. “I just want to go home.” He held up his phone. “I can’t raise Christine on the phone. She has friends here, but she should have checked in by now.”

  “Oh no. Not again.” Stacy said, “I was just going to ask where she was.”

  Kevin shrugged. “But I don’t know that it is a problem. Her phone could have just died. She was really upset at what was going on. Said it was bad voodoo or something and planned to find another place to stay. I didn’t say anything to you guys, figured you’d be pissed.”

  “But we’d understand,” Stacy said. “I sure do.”

  “I think that goes for most of us,” Royce said. “We’ll have to pack and clean up tonight. Leave in the morning and if anyone wants to put in a few runs tomorrow, we can discuss it then.”

  “I don’t,” George snapped. “Maybe never again.”

  Stacy felt the same way, but she wasn’t about to join this discussion. She had more reason to never want to return than anyone. But for some reason, she wasn’t having the same reaction the others were.

  Odd. Well, not really. She knew why. It had come up when she’d been talking to the cop. And the what ifs plagued her. “For the moment, I presume we can assume she’s found some place to stay. Keep trying to reach her and get confirmation.”

  Kevin nodded. “Will do.”

  “What are the police going to do about that hazard?” Stevie asked.

  “Good point,” Kevin leaned forward.

  “What can they do?” Mark asked. “The area is riddled with them.”

  “I think they are looking to check it out early tomorrow if they haven’t already,” Stacy said. “We gave them all the information we knew about it today.”

  Mark nodded. “Interesting.”

  “I did tell them that I took a look around but didn’t see anything or anyone else up there.” Royce lifted his coffee cup and took a sip. “I don’t think that space went anywhere.”

  “These mountains are riddled with caves,” Stevie said. “It’s not unusual to see something like this. It’s only because we found it that makes it unusual. If it had been mapped, then we’d have thought nothing of it.”

  True enough, and something Stacy hadn’t thought about.

  “Dinner is ready,” she said. “Royce, can you please carry it to the table.”

  He hopped up and carried the large pot over. The others, appetites returning, crowded around. Serving full bowls, she walked into the kitchen and pulled out the last of the French bread, sliced it up, and took it out to the table. Everyone grabbed a slice and silence prevailed.

  But it was a good sound. Stacy ate slowly, enjoying the hot meal. Just being inside, safe, was a comfort. Knowing that she would be leaving tomorrow was another comfort. And as much as she didn’t want to look at everyone around this table with suspicion, she didn’t know how not to.

  After dinner, the group slowly did dishes together, no one moving quickly or happily. The conversation stayed muted and centered around generic issues. Stacy stood in the kitchen and wondered what to do with all the food. Was it worth packing up tonight or should she wait until the morning after they’d all eaten?

  “Leave it for now, Stacy,” Royce stood in the doorway. “Everyone is likely to want a snack later tonight, and we still need a meal in the morning.”

  “I’d just decided on that, too.” She filled the teakettle and put it on the stove. “I’d like a cup of tea.”

  “You could have a drink,” he said. “There’s going to be a lot of that flowing this evening.”

  She shuddered. “No thanks. And I wouldn’t trust any of those bottles, and neither would I want to lose my wits to any degree tonight.”

  “I should have said,” he walked closer, “that if you wanted a drink, I’d watch over you.”

  She smiled up at him. “You aren’t going to drink?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Clear. Firm. Decisive. She liked that. But she still wasn’t going to have a drink from anything.

  *

  Royce held out his arms, smiling when she stepped into them. He hugged her close. The two of them stayed quiet until the teakettle whistled. She stepped back and walked over to the stove a
nd the kettle.

  “Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “No, thanks.” He waited for her to make tea then stayed behind her until she walked out to the main living room where the rest of them sat.

  She might not have connected the dots. He wondered how long before she realized that she was the last woman left in the group. Although Christine had disappeared on her own – at least as far as anyone could figure.

  Only Stacy was left, and he planned on watching over her like a hawk. He wouldn’t drink or eat anything unless Stacy or he had made it. That wouldn’t guarantee his safety, but it would give him a better chance. He wondered about the Hungarian stew, but the only time Stacy had left it unguarded was when they were in the boot room with George, and Royce had stood in the doorway to keep an eye on the others.

  Now it was late, but not late enough for bed. They had a few hours to kill.

  He winced at that phrase. So not what he needed to think about right now.

  Standing beside the fire, he studied the others around the room. He couldn’t believe any were cold-blooded killers. Still, maybe Kathleen’s had been an accident. Yvonne – well, who knew? Christine – no one had heard from her, but hopefully she’d found a safer place to stay.

  Kathleen’s attacker could have been anyone. A stranger.

  Not one of his friends. They’d never shown any tendency towards violence. A few had tempers, but then so did he. A few got mouthy when drunk while others were adrenaline junkies. He used to be one of them.

  No, he couldn’t believe it of his group. Someone else had to be responsible.

  His mind worked the issues. What if this friend of Kathleen’s had been responsible for her accident? Maybe they’d had a falling out. It could even have been Christine. She was conveniently missing. Maybe she’d lured Kathleen to the cave, they fought, then she’d run.

  Possibly getting revenge on something she’d said or done. He glanced over at George. Had George ever had an affair with Christine? If so, could that be why? Not that such a thing warranted killing the woman.