by M K Dymock
“Did you enjoy the band at the bar?” the instructor asked.
Mina recognized her immediately as the girl enthralled with the band. Her name tag read “Adrienne.” She must be a first-year, or Mina would’ve known her.
“They were definitely…rocking.”
“So rocking.”
Another memory came back. Adrienne had mentioned being stood up on a date that day. A glance to the kids showed they were too engrossed in the movie or exhausted to pay attention to a conversation happening twenty feet away.
“Did that guy ever call you?” Mina asked.
Adrienne paused, paper cups in hand. “What guy? Oh, from the weekend. Nope, must’ve been eaten by the monster.”
“He didn’t call or anything?”
“No, and I only gave him my digits, so I couldn’t call him. Too bad, though. I like my guys cute and from out of town. Although he was divorced and I’m not sure I want seconds yet.” Adrienne looked fresh out of college.
“Where was he from?”
“I don’t remember, but he worked as a reporter for some outdoor magazines. He would’ve been a good hook-up for swag.”
Mina dumped out her rag in the nearby sink. “No kidding. Do you remember his name?”
“Why do you ask, hoping to steal him away?”
“No, I like my men from town. I’ve been helping the sheriff cobble together a list of who the body might be. He figured I know all the regulars.” Her being deputy wasn’t a secret, but it still felt uncomfortable to say it out loud, like doing so would make it more real.
“I doubt it was him. I bet he left town early. He had a red-eye flight and probably didn’t want to chance the roads. His name was Jay or Gray. Something like that.”
A slight knock came at the door. Cate stood there, looking sheepish. “I’m so sorry. Work ran late.”
“No worries. Half the class is still here.”
She strode in. “Good. I had a Skype call that would not end.” Cate carried herself with the air of a woman on the way to a board meeting, despite wearing jeans and sweaters and having dark brown hair. Mina wasn’t sure why, but she pictured all high-powered executive women as wearing high heels with blonde hair. Since Mina couldn’t manage either, it was good she’d walked away from the corporate world.
Whatever Cate had done in her previous life, Mina figured her to have been successful. The one time she’d asked her about it, Cate laughed and said she ran marketing for a company that required eighty hours and her soul. “Me and the kids needed a new life.”
“It’s okay. Might want to warn you, though, Chris was telling the class the tale of the snow beast. Said he overheard you mentioning it.”
Cate rolled her eyes. “Great. That’s actually the reason I’m late. My call was with the Sasquatch Searchers of America with all sorts of questions about the beast. Apparently, they saw the article on Facebook.”
“I can’t believe you posted that.” Sol had almost raised his voice at Cate when he found out about the article. Her argument that she hadn’t posted anything the entire town wasn’t already talking about anyhow didn’t quell his ire.
Cate shrugged. “Better to have people talking about Bigfoot than murder. Whatever the situation, you can always turn it to your advantage.” She glanced behind Mina to where her kids were still focused on their coloring and lowered her voice. “You were there. Did you see the footprint? Was it really as big as people are saying?”
Ten years Mina had been living in this town and it wouldn’t be saving lives that finally brought her notice; it would be finding Bigfoot. Adrienne, in an obviously casual way, leaned closer. “No, everyone’s exaggerating it, and we can’t say for sure it was even a footprint.”
Cate looked disappointed. “Of course. It’s just, I was hoping…”
“What?”
The next words came out in a rush. “Bookings are still down and will be until we get it figured out. In the meantime, a filmmaker is coming tomorrow and staying for a few weeks to do a documentary. He’d probably love to talk to you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“We can’t change what happened, but we can change the story around it.”
“I’m not talking to those weirdos.”
Despite her best intentions, those weirdos would talk to her.
Mina waited on the flat area in front of the lodge the next morning for her client, a tourist. She hoped this meant tourists were finding their way back.
A tall and very good-looking guy, like TV good-looking, approached her with his hand outstretched. “Mina?”
“Are you my lesson?” Please say yes, she thought.
“Yes, I’m Michael.”
Things were looking up. She took the proffered hand and wondered how many women had been won over by his gregarious smile. She would decide later if she’d be one of them. “What made you decide to take a ski lesson today?”
“I skied as a teenager, but it’s been a few years. Thought it might be a good idea to brush up my skills my first day back.”
“Let’s see what you got.”
What he had was the ability to turn and stop. After he found his sea legs, he sped up, probably to impress her and himself. It would take a lot more than bombing a green run to impress her, but she appreciated the effort.
As they skidded to a stop in front of the lodge, he leaned in and nudged her with a pole. “How am I doing, Coach?”
“You’re picking it up fast. You’ll be ripping around the mountain by tomorrow.” She didn’t have to struggle to compliment this green-eyed charmer.
He bought her lunch in the lodge. Over bison burgers, he glanced around the lodge and its empty chairs. “When does the busy season start? With it being the week before Christmas, I thought there’d be more crowds.”
“It varies year to year.”
“People aren’t staying away because of that…” At her sharp glance, he adjusted his words. “…incident.”
“What incident?”
“You know, the…”
She waited, not offering him any opening.
He must’ve known his charm was down to a trickle. “They say you saw him.” The smile dropped.
“They say wrong.”
“They said an Asian ski instructor found the body.”
Some days, it didn’t pay to be one of the few minorities in town. “Even if I did, why would I talk about it with you?”
“I’m studying Sasquatch. I want to know what happened up there, and so do you.”
“Not good enough.”
He leaned closer and grabbed her sleeve. “Because I can pay you, and I assume you need the money.”
She pushed her chair back, but it caught on the carpet and snagged, tipping it over. The few patrons eating turned their attention to Mina. She swallowed the “bite me” she wanted to say. “I’m sorry, Michael,” she said with false cheer. “I won’t be able to help you with that.”
Before she could reach the door, he followed her and opened it for her. “We still have a half day of lessons.”
She had two choices to get out of the rest of day—fake injury or fake sick. Both would put her on the bottom of the assignment list in an already dry winter. Last year she’d showed up to work with two broken fingers and the flu rather than lose her shot at wealthy clients.
Mina would do a lot for money, but she wouldn’t bandy around someone’s death like it was entertainment. “You want to ski with me, we’re going to spend the afternoon on the bunny hill working on your form and only discussing skiing. If you don’t like that, we can call it a day.”
The charm returned. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”
Every ride up the short chairlift, Mike peppered her with questions. Some about skiing, some about the body. She ignored the latter.
At the end of the day, he slipped a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. “Mina, I’ve got a million dollars riding on finding out what happened up there. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Y
ou can help me or not, but I will find out.”
She took the money and tucked it into her pocket. “I’m just a ski instructor. Can’t help you.” But there was someone she would help.
11
The sheriff’s office door slammed behind her. Sol, who must’ve beaten her by seconds, was taking his coat off. With one look at her, she didn’t need to ask him. “The FBI is assuming animal attack, so we’re not a priority.” He hung his coat up.
Mina thought of Clint’s concern about the lack of teeth marks.
Sol walked into his office, and she followed. “Still no ID. They ran the DNA through their database, but nothing came up—no missing persons. I’ve asked them to create a genetic profile.” A profile could narrow down more specifically race and background. “From the remaining hand, they’re assuming white male.”
“Oh good, they’ve really narrowed it down.” Mina slumped into a chair across from Sol.
“Have you found Charlie?”
“He hasn’t showed up to work, but according to his supervisor, that’s not unheard of. I talked to a few of the people he lives with, but they couldn’t say for sure what day they saw him last or even if he’s staying with them. Nobody would know if he’s dead or not.”
That was the world Mina lived in. She’d had a friend killed in an avalanche last year and it was two weeks before they found him, a week before anyone knew he was missing. They mourned, but everyone moved on. They were an independent bunch.
She thought of their John Doe. Did anyone look for him besides them? Every time Mina closed her eyes, all she saw was the hand reaching out like drowning man.
As if sensing her thoughts, Sol said, “It’ll fade in time.”
No, it won’t. “Do you ever get tired of bringing home only bodies?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
He leaned back into his chair as the clock behind him struck five. “During 9/11, the rescue dogs would get depressed at not finding any live victims. Their handlers would hide in the wreckage of the Twin Towers so the dogs could find them. Gave them a sense of accomplishment to abate the discouragement.”
“Are you going to hide for me, Sol?”
“No, because you know what those dogs didn’t. There will always be someone in need of saving.”
“Why do I have to be the one who save them?” She felt guilty even as she asked it.
Sol had been born the only boy in a family of five girls. His grandfather called him Solo Vino—He Came Alone. There wasn’t a more apt description of a man who longed to be anywhere people weren’t. The sheriff job wore on him, but he never complained.
Sol held out his empty hands to show he didn’t have the answer. “I don’t know, but I’ve committed for a year, and I need people I can trust.”
A year of doing the same thing, not being able to take off on a long trip or do her own thing? Granted, she had a job most of the time to pay the bills, but each one only lasted for a few months. In between seasons, she lost herself in the void. Her gut clenched at the thought of being held in place. “I don’t know if I could say yes to that.”
“How about two months? Can you commit for two months? Then you can decide for good at the end of it.”
If there was anything Mina excelled at, it was procrastinating life decisions. During college she’d had her entire career mapped out for her, but the recession pissed on those plans, for which she was eternally grateful. She refused to be trapped again. “Why two months?”
“Clint would like to be able to take a few weeks off when the baby comes. And I don’t think he’d mind not being on call as often for the first few months.”
“Full-time? I’ve got another job, you know. I’ve been booked over all the holidays.” If everyone didn’t cancel.
“I know, but if Clint knows he’ll be off when the baby comes, I can convince him to work the holidays.”
Outside, the wind blew and nearby tree branches scraped against the metal roof. Another storm was coming. She had loved that sound and what it promised. Since the body, though, it kept her on edge.
“Mina, we need your help to figure out what happened to the skier.”
She turned away from the window. “Okay, two months, tops. I’ve got a lot of clients coming in March.”
Mina needed to know what happened to the skier as well.
12
Ryan stood on the curb of an airport small enough to have only one security guard. The winds tossed around a few pieces of sagebrush and old snow across the flat plains. He unconsciously gripped the handle of his large backpack a little tighter, grateful to have shoved in all his winter clothes.
Phil pulled up in a Range Rover, and Ryan jumped in. “Where are these mountains you’ve been bragging about?”
“They’re more impressive the closer you get.” Phil pointed to some distant hills. “It’s a two-hour drive just to get to the base.”
“Learn anything more?” Ryan asked.
Phil turned down a radio station that had equal amounts static and music. “I talked to one of the guys on ski patrol. It was bad enough he quit his job the next day. Said whatever did that was straight-up evil.”
Ryan remembered that feeling well.
“Snow’s covered the site a foot over. Plus, it’s on ski resort land, making it difficult to do any kind of investigation,” Phil said.
Ryan removed his outer jacket at the flow of heat. “What’s the history of the area?”
“Sasquatch-wise? Not much. Summer would be a lot better for hunting. I’ve tried to talk to a few of the old-timers, but they’d never admit seeing him even if they sat across from the beast. A small town doesn’t allow for being too far off the normal line.”
“Well, you’re in for a long winter,” Ryan said.
Phil laughed. “They’re not much for outsiders either. Don’t blame them; I’m not worth the trouble. One guy, though, he mentioned some odd experiences, but then one of his brothers walked up… Hold up.” He punched the volume up on the radio.
“…you need to go and stay there,” a weatherman said. “The mountains are in for a three-day dump. The timing of the storm…” The radio receded into static.
Phil punched the gas a little harder. “Used my four-wheel drive more in the last week than all of last year. How’d you swing work?”
“I told them I had a family emergency, then stayed up all night trying to get everything done.” Ryan pushed down the guilt. After five years of giving everything, he could take a few days. Only the promise he’d be connected to Wi-Fi to handle all the bugs kept them from firing him.
“Eighty hours a week isn’t worth it, no matter the pay.”
“Says the tech CEO, who is now retired before fifty.”
“Retired, but I worked my youth away. I kept thinking my payday was just around the corner. Then I went around the corner and my kids were grown and gone. You could stand to find someone besides me to have an adventure with. Don’t wake up ten years from now alone and wealthy.”
“I won’t.” Ryan had his doubts about that but didn’t want to disappoint one of his only friends.
The snow started by the time they reached the Junction, the last town before the climb in the canyon. “We’ll be out of the canyon before the real snow comes,” Phil said as they filled up at the gas station.
“Want me to drive?” Phil’s past life as CEO hadn’t given him much winter driving experience. The car was a new one.
“Go for it,” he said, tossing Ryan his keys. “I’ve got no ego wrapped up in my driving.”
Within a few hundred yards of the canyon’s steep cliffs, the snow stuck to the roads and the double yellow lines vanished.
About halfway up, he hit a white wall of blowing snow coating the black pavement and everything else. The snowflakes filled the headlights, making driving with or without light equally perilous. Despite the four-wheel drive, the tires slipped in the snow. He eased off his gas pedal, allowing the car to slow on its own volition.
Hitting the brakes on roads like these would mean a skid.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Phil whispered, as if speaking out loud would disrupt Ryan’s focus.
As the highway steepened, the tires slipped again. There was no going back down, as that would be even more slick. If he missed a turn, they’d end up a hundred feet down in a river.
With no other choice, he crossed the yellow line, or what should be the yellow line if he could see. He pulled off to the shoulder, maybe, couldn’t even see the mountainside. “I can’t see the edge.”
Phil nodded. “I can’t see past the car.”
Ryan pushed open the door and stepped out into six inches of powder. With his foot, he dug into the snow until he reached dirt. At least he hadn’t parked on the road. “We can wait here and see if a plow goes by and follow it up.”
As he turned off the engine to preserve gas, the oppressive silence barged in. Only then could he appreciate their predicament and foolhardiness.
“What if they close the canyon?” Ryan said. “I read somewhere the pass closes occasionally due to avalanches. There may not be a plow coming.”
Phil leaned over the console to check the odometer. “I set this before I left. We’re only a few miles from the top.”
“A few miles of road we can’t see. Let’s give it a few minutes and see if any cars come by.”
Ryan turned on the engine after wiping the snow from the exhaust pipe. No sense in adding carbon monoxide poisoning to the situation. In the few minutes it had been off, the car’s interior had already dropped to 35 degrees.
13
Mina’s phone rang as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Hey, you off work?” her friend Jenny asked as a hello.
“Yeah, did you want to grab something to eat?”
“No, I want your Jeep. I’m stuck in a snowdrift and could use your winch.”
