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Return to Dyatlov Pass Page 10

by J. H. Moncrieff


  The Russian’s cheeks reddened. “I might have closed my eyes for a little bit. Just a little bit. I’m sorry; I have been so tired.”

  Steven’s jaw tightened, but before he could speak, Nat laid a hand on his arm.

  “To be fair, the idea was to tend the fire, not to make sure no one escaped from camp. What’s done is done. There’s no point getting into a debate about whose fault this is.”

  “But you were more than willing for it to be mine.”

  Damn, did nothing get past this guy? “True, but that was more your relationship with her than anything else. I thought she might have confided in you.”

  “What relationship? We didn’t have a relationship.” Steven’s eyebrows rose until they all but disappeared under his hat.

  “Sorry if I misunderstood. I only meant you two were friends. She seemed to talk to you more than anyone else.”

  “If she did, I didn’t notice. In any case, I would never have gone along with this, friend or not. If she were insistent, I would have woken everyone up and split us into groups. It’s not safe for anyone to wander around out here alone. I don’t care how experienced they are.”

  Igor stamped his feet to warm them. “So, what do we do now? Do we go after her?”

  “No. It was her decision to take off. She can cool her heels for a while. Nat, I’m sorry I called you selfish yesterday. Wanting to stay with Andrew isn’t selfish. This is selfish.”

  She was taken aback by the mountaineer’s apology. “It’s okay.”

  “It might be worth seeing if Vasily is willing to catch up with her after breakfast, but I’m still of a mind that we shouldn’t separate any more than we already have. Vasily is our guide, the one who knows the most about these mountains. If something happens to him—”

  Nat shivered. “Don’t even think it.”

  “And we have Andrew’s condition to consider,” Steven continued. “Is he awake?”

  “He wasn’t when I got up, but he was looking a lot better. His breathing sounded better too.”

  “Good.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “See, things are looking up. She should have waited. Why don’t I make some breakfast, and we’ll see how everyone feels once we’ve eaten?”

  “Sounds like a plan. Did you check the plate?” Though Nat wasn’t sure she believed in the snowmen, she couldn’t help being curious.

  “Not yet. I’ll do that right now. Igor, can you gather some firewood? I’ll need a bit more heat if I’m going to cook.”

  “Yah, sure.”

  Nat followed the Russian into the brush. It was better than sitting at the fire alone. Her nerves were on edge. First Anubha and Joe, and now Lana. What was with people taking off? She was beginning to think Steven might end up being the best team player they had, and how scary was that?

  “Sorry, Nat.”

  “For what?” Meeting the Russian’s eyes, she was surprised to see how miserable he looked, like his dog had died.

  “For falling asleep. I should have been awake. I should have caught her.”

  “It’s not your fault. None of us signed up for this, and we’re all running on empty. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, even if you had caught her, there’s not much you could have done.”

  “I could have held her down until you woke up.” His mouth curved in a half smile.

  “Maybe, but at the end of the day, we’re all adults. If she was determined to leave, we wouldn’t have any right to stop her. What if something had happened to us in the night, and by leaving, she was the only survivor? I’m sure she thought she was doing the right thing.”

  Nat hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. In truth, she could have cheerfully strangled the woman. Lana was the one who’d known the most about altitude sickness. How were they supposed to monitor Andrew’s condition without her?

  “I feel bad. I think I could have talked her out of it,” Igor said.

  “Try not to worry about it. We’ll meet up with her soon enough.”

  Their arms full of branches and twigs, they made their way back to the fire where Steven waited. The mountaineer held up an empty plate as they approached. “Check it out. It’s been licked clean. I think the peace offering worked.”

  “Assuming the snowmen took it, yah,” Igor said, kneeling to pile new sticks on the fire.

  “We’re alive, aren’t we? I’d call that an unqualified success.”

  “Vasily’s okay?” Nat realized she hadn’t seen the Mansi yet.

  “Alive and well. He went into the bush to take care of some business, if you know what I mean.” Steven grinned.

  Nat wrinkled her nose. “Enough said. I guess I should wake Andrew.”

  “You can, or you can wait until breakfast’s ready.” Scanning the directions on the pack of breakfast burritos, Steven stretched his neck with a groan. “Should take about fifteen minutes.”

  “In that case, I should start now. He’s a slow riser.”

  Which was true, but more importantly, Nat was eager to share the news about Lana. Maybe Andrew would have a better idea of what they should do.

  When she entered the tent, her friend was already awake, staring at the ceiling.

  “Well, look who’s up. Good morning.”

  He didn’t answer. It was as though she hadn’t said a word. She moved closer, shuffling on her knees until she was beside him. “Andrew? What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?”

  “I knew I recognized his voice. It was so familiar. I knew I’d heard it before. I just couldn’t place it.”

  The feeling of dread returned with a vengeance. Had Andrew lost his mind? Was that a symptom of altitude sickness? She seemed to recall reading that people who had it couldn’t think clearly. “What are you talking about?”

  He focused on her then, as if seeing her for the first time. “I’m sorry, Nat. I should have figured it out sooner.”

  “Figured out what? Andrew, you’re scaring me.”

  “Everything okay in there?” Steven called from the fire.

  “Everything’s fine,” Nat yelled back. She touched her friend’s cheek, willing him to look at her again. “It is fine, isn’t it?”

  “Nat, does his voice sound at all familiar?” Andrew whispered, his words a harsh rasp.

  “Who, Steven’s? Not really.” But that wasn’t exactly true. She remembered that first night at the restaurant in Vizhai, how she’d felt like she’d met him before. “Why?”

  “Something about him has always bugged me. Well, besides the obvious. And I finally realized what it was this morning, lying here, listening to him talk.”

  “What is it? Did you meet him somewhere?” It didn’t make sense. If they’d had a prior connection to Steven, why wouldn’t he have mentioned it during his interview? Surely it would have improved his chances of getting on the team.

  “Not in person, no. But I’ve talked to him, and so have you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re getting at. Spit it out, before they send a search party after us.”

  “Don’t you get it? Steven is Cliff. He’s the troll who’s been tormenting you for months.”

  ~ Chapter Twelve ~

  There was no point asking if Andrew was sure. The man had phenomenal recall when it came to names, faces, and voices. Steven was lucky her producer hadn’t found him out earlier.

  The question was, what did they do about it? If he really was related to Lyudmila, he had a vested interest, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d want to sabotage the trip. The opposite might be true. He had swallowed Vasily’s yeti stories a bit too quickly, though, even if he had seen a cryptid in California. She’d expected more skepticism, especially from him.

  Should she confront him? Andrew had argued against it, saying as long as they kept Cliff/Steven in the dark, they had the power. But it wouldn’t be easy to hide her anger. If it hadn’t been for the guy’s constant baiting and heckling, she never would have gone forward with this trip. Okay, her stupid ego had had a bit to do
with it too. Now two people were dead and a third had deserted them. It was all she could do to refrain from clawing his pretty blue eyes out. Let’s see how alarmingly intense his gaze was without them.

  “The food’s almost ready. Is Andrew coming?” Steven smiled at her, completely guileless. He had no idea they knew. No clue what was coming. And there was something rather satisfying about that.

  “He’s not feeling up to it. I told him I’d bring him something later.” In reality, Andrew didn’t feel he could look Steven in the eye just yet.

  “That’s not good. Is he going to be able to ski today?” Steven’s forehead creased in concern, and Nat wondered how much he actually cared. After all, he’d wanted to abandon Andrew from the beginning. Maybe he’d been afraid the producer would eventually figure him out.

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t ask him yet. But Igor, you’re still okay to help, right?” After the bombshell Andrew had dropped, leaving had been the last thing on her mind. She hadn’t even thought to ask him how he was feeling. Shit.

  “Yah, I’ll carry him to Vizhai if I have to. We need to leave today,” the Russian said.

  Nat waited for Steven to argue, to talk about the importance of everyone getting down the mountain under their own steam, but he didn’t say a word. Perhaps he was finally learning.

  “It’s a shame we’re leaving without being any closer to solving the Dyatlov mystery, though. I was really hoping we’d find out what happened to Lyudmila especially.” She watched Steven out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he’d take the bait. She didn’t have to wonder long.

  “Why Lyudmila?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I’ve always felt the sorriest for her. She was one of the youngest, and the most horribly injured. I’d hoped, at the very least, to be able to give her family some sort of closure. But I guess that ship has sailed.”

  “What are you talking about? Vasily’s story confirms what happened to them.”

  Nat snorted, deciding to lay it on just thick enough to bait him. “That ridiculous yeti theory?” She was glad the Mansi hadn’t returned from his business yet. She’d be much more reluctant to disparage his account with him sitting right there. “I’m not buying it.”

  “You saw Anubha and Joe. They didn’t die of natural causes. How else do you explain what happened to them?”

  “I actually didn’t see them. Not close up. But the fact they’re dead doesn’t mean yetis killed them. Occam’s razor, right? The simplest explanation is usually the truth.”

  Steven leaned back on his heels and stared at her, breakfast temporarily forgotten. “What are you saying? Who else could have possibly done it? No one is here but us.”

  “We don’t know that for sure. There could be someone else here. If the government murdered the Dyatlov group for seeing something they shouldn’t, maybe whatever it was is still here. The military could have continued to monitor it. But I agree it’s unlikely.”

  The mountaineer’s face darkened. “I repeat—what are you saying?”

  “When Anubha and Joe disappeared, only you, Lana, and Vasily had the opportunity. Me, Igor, and Andrew were too far away, not to mention Andrew was in no condition to walk, let alone harm anyone. So, the killer had to have been one of you.” Nat prayed he would give her some reason it couldn’t be true, some indisputable proof of his innocence. As unlikeable as he had been, she couldn’t see Steven as a murderer.

  Then again, people had thought Ted Bundy was a real nice guy too.

  “You can’t seriously believe one of us was responsible. Or even capable of slaughtering them like that.”

  Forcing aside the horrific image of Anubha’s face, Nat folded her arms across her chest. “I find that a lot more believable than some farfetched story about a tribe of yetis.”

  To her surprise, Igor spoke up. “Yah, Steven. The yeti story, it’s a bit crazy, no?”

  “You think it’s more plausible that I killed them? For starters, Joe would have ripped me apart. For another, I don’t have a motive. They were the only people capable of getting us food that doesn’t come in a packet. If I were going to kill anyone, it would be someone useless. Someone like—”

  Nat’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say it. If you thought Joe could tear you apart, you don’t even want to think what you were about to say.”

  Before the mountaineer could respond, someone called his name. Screamed it.

  “Steven, Steven! You must come. Please help.”

  Vasily ran toward them, repeatedly losing his footing in the deep snow. His breathing ragged, the Mansi stumbled into Steven’s arms, tears running down his cheeks. “You must help. Please.”

  All evidence of his anger gone, the mountaineer steadied the older man and spoke to him almost tenderly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It is the fair-haired one. She is…it is not good.” His face set in lines of desperation and grief, Vasily turned to Igor and spoke rapidly, his words tumbling over each other as if in a frantic rush to escape.

  Igor shook his head, lifting his hands palms up. “I’m sorry. I do not understand.”

  The nagging feeling something was terribly wrong returned, if it had ever really gone away. “Is he talking about Lana? But Lana left for the other site, didn’t she?” Fear and helplessness became rage as Nat stared at the guide, who babbled away in a language none of them understood. Could one even call him a guide? He’d been next to useless so far. He certainly hadn’t protected them. “What did you do to her? Answer me.”

  She would have shaken the truth out of him if Steven hadn’t stepped between them. “Oh, so now Vasily is guilty too? You’d better get your villains straight.”

  “I know who my villain is…Cliff.”

  Fuck. She hadn’t meant for the name to slip out in the heat of the moment, but she’d felt too furious, too betrayed, to keep her big mouth shut. So much for retaining the power. Sorry, Andrew. She always had been lousy at keeping secrets. Didn’t her producer know better than to entrust her with something like this?

  Steven’s face contorted as though he were in pain. “We can talk about this later.”

  “Why did she call you Cliff? I don’t understand.” Poor Igor. Between Vasily’s dialect and this new drama, he looked beyond confused.

  “I’ll explain later. Vasily, are you talking about Lana?” At the man’s blank expression, Steven raised his arm to a level slightly above his head. “Tall, blonde, pretty?”

  The Mansi nodded. “Yes, yes. Please help.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  In response, Vasily pulled at Steven’s jacket sleeves violently enough that the mountaineer slid forward. “Come, you see. Please, I have no words.”

  As Igor and Nat prepared to follow, the Mansi held out his hand. “No, only him. Only him see.”

  “I’m in charge of this expedition. If something is wrong with a member of my team, I should see it for myself.”

  “Please, Nat. Let me go with him, and if it’s something you need to be involved in, I promise I’ll tell you.” Steven’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I realize it’s difficult for you to trust me right now, but I swear I’m not the enemy. Though it probably seems that way.”

  “Look, I don’t need either of you to protect me, and I don’t appreciate being treated like a child. Everyone on this team is my responsibility, not yours, and not Vasily’s. So you can either come along and keep your mouth shut, or stay here with Andrew.”

  Steven sized her up for a moment before shrugging. “Whatever you say. Go ahead, Vasily. Show us what you found.”

  Lana lay on the path between their campsite and Anubha and Joe’s final resting place. Her legs were folded toward her chest, as if she’d been trying for the fetal position but couldn’t quite muster the energy. Her hands covered her breasts and were clenched into fists. Her eyes were closed as though she were sleeping, but the condition of her face belied that faux peacefulness.

  Her once-lovely features were swollen and dark with
bruises. Deep purple and reddish abrasions covered her hands as well. Lana had not gone quietly.

  Nat swallowed hard against the discomfort of déjà vu. She had seen this scene before, and she knew exactly where. By either happenstance or design, Lana’s body mimicked that of Zinaida Alekseevna Kolmogorova, one of the Dyatlov group.

  Eyeing the men who stood with her, heads bowed, Nat had the uncomfortable realization she was the only woman left. Lyudmila had no doubt suffered, watching her female friends die, and now she was in the same position. Given what had happened to Lyudmila, it wasn’t a comforting thought.

  “How could you?” The words erupted from her lips before she could think better of them. She felt Andrew’s absence like a missing limb. He had always stepped in on her behalf, smoothed things over, played the diplomat. He’d saved her from herself.

  Steven’s brows knitted together, his features a gathering storm. For the first time, she wondered if it was smart to openly challenge this man. If she truly believed he’d murdered three people with no motive at all, it wasn’t the brightest move to give him an ironclad one.

  But when he spoke, his voice didn’t hint at the fury in his eyes. “You can’t be serious. You can’t seriously think I’m responsible for this.”

  “If not you or Vasily, who else?” When she said the Mansi’s name, Vasily shrank back as though she’d slapped him. She watched herself as if from afar. Why was she acting this way? And worse, why couldn’t she stop?

  “Jesus Christ, Nat. Look at her. Look at her. See her hands? Whatever did this got the fight of its life. The killer would be covered in cuts and scratches, bruises for sure.” Steven tilted his head, lifting his chiseled cheekbone to the light. “Take a look. Not a scratch. How do you explain that?”

  “I don’t know.” She held her hands tightly together to keep from punching him right on his pristine chin. “I don’t know, okay? I just know one of you had to have done it.”

  “Why? Nat, that’s crazy. I could see you maybe thinking that about Joe after the scuffle we had, but what reason could I possibly have for hurting Lana? As you so discreetly pointed out, I was more than a little fond of her.”

 

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