Chilled by Death (14 page)

George heard Stacy
call out. He spun around to see her disappear from sight. “Stacy!”

The others raced toward her.

Royce held out his arms. “Wait. We don’t know how far the fault goes.”

George took a cautious step forward. “Stacy, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am.”

The sound of her voice hit him so hard he had to stop his headlong plunge and close his eyes.
Oh thank God.
All business now, he called out, “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” she called back. “Just pissed at myself.”

“No need to be,” he called down to her, carefully walking forward and poking the ground with long sticks, making sure it was solid enough to stand on. They stepped forward as a wall and the poking continued. They’d almost reached her when the wall of snow caved in front of them.

And there she was. With the bank down and the crevasse widened, it was easy to see her now. She stood on her own two feet – staring up at them. She studied the space and turned to the left. The group was walking down the path and poking into the ground to make sure it was solid, but they actually opened up the crevasse as far as they could see. They quickly opened up the space between Stevie and Stacy. Stacy walked toward Stevie with every new step that opened up until she could see him.

She laughed and ran over to give him a big hug. He picked her up and twirled her around, only the ground was full of snow and ice chunks and they both fell down to the amusement of everyone watching.

It took another twenty minutes before the two of them were standing up on solid ground. The group had continued to collapse the snow along the fault line so it would be visible to others.

“Well now, that was a fun trip, but let’s move on.” Stevie said.

“Nope. We’re not going anywhere,” George called out. “Royce, come here please.”

Royce walked closer. “What’s up?”

George glanced behind at the others slowly making their way over. In a low voice, he said, “This.”

He pointed down into the crevasse.

And the boot attached to a man’s leg partially buried under the fresh snow.

*

Royce stared at
the boot. “What the hell.”

He skidded down the loose snow and managed to stay on his feet. He walked over and started scooping the snow off the body. The way the snow had fallen had buried the top half of the body. “George, you start making the calls.”

“Yep, on it.”

Royce could hear the others talking up top and the sounds of several other people making their way down the slope and toward him. He hoped it wasn’t Stacy. She had enough death in her world.

The snow kept sliding down the slope and constantly filled in the space he had cleared. He glared at the snow bank. There really was no help for it, he reached down and grabbed the man’s ankle and tugged. And it didn’t move. Shit.

“I’m here. Hang on,” Stevie said. He approached with a tiny shovel. With the two of them, they made short work of the bank spreading the loose snow around the side and out of their way. Before he realized it, they had the bulk of the snow off the man. And he said the word
man
loosely as the head and face was still buried. Stevie dropped his shovel beside the body and fell to his knees, then carefully brushed the rest off the man’s face.

Royce studied the solid, marble-looking body and had to wonder. How long had it been here? That didn’t change the fact that the dead man didn’t look in any way like a winter sports enthusiast. Neither was he dressed for cold weather.

But if he wasn’t either of the missing men he knew about, who was he? Why the hell was he out here in the middle of nowhere?

“I’m here.” Stacy said from behind. “Let me see.”

R
oyce stood with
his hand out, saying, “You shouldn’t see this.”

Stacy choked back a laugh. “Really? And why is that?”

He groaned and smacked his forehead. “Somehow for one moment there, I completely forgot who and what you were.”

“I didn’t,” Stevie said with a grin. He motioned his hand toward the body. “After you.”

She rolled her eyes and walked closer to the unexpected gravesite as others made the necessary phone calls. She’d seen more death than most, but this hadn’t been on her plans for the day. Still, death was never on one’s plans.

Royce and Stevie had started cutting stairs in a solid slope behind her. It was a faster and more effective answer than using ropes and hauling the dead weight up that way.

Squatting down beside the dead man, she studied his features. She didn’t recognize him. Thankfully. Younger, between his late twenties and late thirties most likely. She studied his posture, the angle of his body, the look on his face. She stood and walked around the young man. There was only silence from the others as they watched her work. She hadn’t seen too many that came in from a deep freeze like this. The temperatures always played havoc in looking at time of death. She motioned to Stevie to roll him over. There was no blood anywhere. No visible injuries. She checked his fingernails and tips of his fingers. His eyes. Death had been fast.

Then she pulled up his sleeve as far as the stiff material would go and found raw marks on the guy’s wrist. She quickly checked his other wrist. Both showed signs of having been restrained. There was no blood showing, no broken skin, but the angry redness spoke volumes.

She never said anything to the others. A quick search of his pockets turned up no ID. Curious and curiouser.

“Another climber, do you think?” George asked. “There are a few missing.”

“Potentially.” She frowned. “But considering he’s not deep enough for the fall to have killed him, there’s no blood showing from an injury and he was within walking distance to the cabin – why?”

“Drunk?” asked George. “Going for a walk often makes sense at the worst times after a few drinks.”

“True enough.” She stood back and stared at the man’s boots – cowboy boots. “He’s certainly not dressed for the weather. Even his footwear is more suitable for a stroll than a winter hike.”

She glance off in the distance, trying to mentally place the road, wondering if he’d had a car accident and had wandered off looking for assistance. If he’d been in shock, he could easily have gotten lost and disoriented. But this area wasn’t well known, and those that frequented it were better prepared as to what to expect. And where would his vehicle be if he’d driven here? The police would have reports on abandoned vehicles in the area, but it often took days for such vehicles to be reported in a resort like this – particularly if he’d gone off the road.

She sat back on her haunches, puzzled. For all intents and purposes, at first glance it appeared as if he had succumbed to the elements. The real question was what was he doing out in the first place.

And how did the marks on his wrists relate?

She checked her watch. “The police will still be an hour or two, I suspect.”

“Head back to the cabin, and we’ll stay here and keep an eye on him.”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll stay.” She’d seen worse. Waited in worse conditions. He was her responsibility now. She would not leave.

The group split up, half choosing to carry on and get a few runs in, whereas the rest of the group, with the exception of Stevie, headed back to the cabin to wait for the coroner’s office.

Stevie pulled his thermos out of his pack and offered her a cup.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile.

“I’m surprised everyone left,” Stevie said with a grin. “Royce has become your watchdog. Why don’t you give the poor guy a break and go out with the man?”

She let out a startled laugh. “I don’t think you’re reading the situation correctly,” she said, shaking her head.

“I don’t think you’re seeing the situation for what it is. He’s always watching you. As you climb the stairs for the night. As you come down in the morning. As you leave the room.” Stevie smirked. “He’s got it bad.”

“You’re exaggerating,” she said comfortably, knowing she was being teased.

He hooted. “Like hell I am.”

“Really?” She studied him curiously. “He’s not that bad, surely?”

“Hell yes, he is. And I tell you, Geoffrey does the same. Maybe a little less often.”

“Now I know you’re having me on.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m warning you. Those two might come to blows over you.”

The seriousness of his tone had her staring open-mouthed at him. “No way.” She shook it off and took a sip of the coffee. Standing over a dead body and listening to Stevie’s wild talk, she’d take the comfort where she could.

“Are you okay for a moment here?” Stevie asked. “I saw another depression a little further over. I just want to make sure it’s solid.”

“Go for it.” She motioned to the stairs. “I’ll stand on top and watch so I can make sure you’re safe too.”

He laughed. “You know me, I’m always good.”

“True enough. But life happens to everyone.”

“You’re a worrywart now. You didn’t use to be. You used to love life. Laugh at life.”

“I did.” She knew that. “But after losing the girls, and then getting so sick…” She let her voice trail off.

“I know, but like you just said,” Stevie said, almost running up the stairs behind her, “life happens. So why worry?”

“That seems to be the problem now,” she muttered. “I can’t stop worrying.”

“No point in worrying about what you can’t control.” He grabbed his stick and headed to the other side.

“And the stuff I can control?” she called after him. “What about that?”

“You gotta let life happen.”

“Maybe,” she said in a low voice, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like the results.”

*

By the time
the body was removed, questions answered, and photos taken, Stacy had to decide whether to head back to the waterfall or go the cabin. She cast a wary eye at the cloudy skies. “Back to the cabin for me.”

“Good.” Royce, who’d returned with fresh coffee just ahead of the cops, turned to Stevie. “What about you?”

“I’m going to meet up with the other group and see if I can get a couple runs in.”

Stacy started to walk back to the cabin. “Royce, go with Stevie. There is no way I can get lost now.” There was almost a highway back to the cabin. Snowmobiles had taken the body out on a rescue sled. She could still hear the engines droning their way down to the waiting ambulance.

“I still don’t think you should go alone,” Royce said, coming up behind her. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder. “Stacy.”

“Look, Stevie is likely to run into more trouble than I will. I’m following tracks the whole way back. I’m fine.”

He watched her stride away, her body relaxed and moving easily.

Stevie stepped closer beside him. “I’m also fine. You go on with her.”

“Ha,” Royce said. “She’s right. The track to the cabin is easy to follow. Finding the group of boarders for you to join them is a whole different story.”

“Nah. I know the runs they’re on, and Geoffrey just sent me the GPS coordinates.” Stevie smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m good. Go on after her. You know you want to.”

At that last part, Royce shot him a dark look, which rolled off Stevie’s back.