In the Dead of Cold (26 page)

To the child’s amazement, Jane held up a shiny quarter, doing the trick so well, it appeared the child really did have a quarter hidden behind her ear.

“Thank you,” the child said in a shy voice when Jane smiled and gave it to her.

The second boy, a member of her original audience, who was a bit louder than all the others, exclaimed, “I have a dollar my mom gave me to play video games. What kind of magic can you do with it?” He held out the bill.

Jane took it from him and looked at it closely. There was still the warm essence of his touch on the paper. She felt his eagerness and the anticipation and innocence that a child possessed. Jane smiled at the clean, naive feel of it. “Hmm, let’s see. What could we do with something like this? I know this looks like a simple, ordinary dollar bill, but do you know this is a very magic dollar bill?”

“No,” the boy answered.

“What’s your name?” Jane asked.

“Nate,” came the answer.

“Do you think your mom knew this was a magic dollar bill, Nate?”

“I don’t know.”

Jane let out a slow breath in order to waste a few seconds and add to the anticipation. She rubbed the bill between her thumb and first finger, hoping to give her audience the sense that the feel or texture of this bill was different than any other bill. She nodded her head. “Yes, this is a very magic bill.”

“How do you know?” the children piped.

“Do you want to see how magical it is?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Well, let me show you.” Jane folded the dollar bill in half.

Nate looked disappointed. “That’s not very magical. I could do that.”

Jane folded it again and again, making it as small as possible.

“Why don’t you give it back? I can play two video games with it.”

Jane pretended to be bored. She let out a heavy, audible breath. “Okay, I guess you’re right. Here you go.” She handed him back the bill, still folded. As she watched, he unfolded the bill to reveal a five-dollar bill instead of a one.

The kids all let out their held breaths with an added “wow!” “awesome!” or “wicked!”

Jane smiled and pretended to be surprised as she looked at Nate. “Gosh, Nate. Maybe it was you. Perhaps you’re the magic one.”

Nate stared at his bill as if it really was magic, and Jane wondered if it would ever get spent on any video games.

“Thank you!” he finally exclaimed before rushing over to show his mom.

“Can you pull a rabbit out of my hat?” another little boy asked. He held up his knitted stocking hat.

Jane laughed and thought that at least an illusion like that wouldn’t cause her to go broke, but she didn’t have any rabbits tucked up her sleeves. “No, I’m afraid I can’t do that one today, but maybe some other day.”

“Can you make magic money appear for me too?” a couple of the kids asked.

She shrugged. “I think that’s all for the magic money too.” She did wish she had more of her act with her. As soon as she didn’t have to worry about Bart, she’d plan a show and send for more of her illusions.

Jane was trying to think of another small illusion she could perform when a voice over her shoulder drew her attention. “Ms. Smyth?”

Jane turned and looked at the girl who’d called her. She recognized Mandy, the girl with the ponytail who had worked the counter the evening Jane had come to the Moonlight Resort after her encounter with Bart in the alley. “Yes?”

“There’s a phone call for you. You can take it at the house phone around the corner from the desk.”

“Thank you.” She picked up her purse and her book, which she slipped into her purse.

There were numerous moans of disappointment with her leaving.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, kids. I promise.” She fought to contain her own excitement at the idea that it was maybe Milo with some good news. She could hear him now.

It’s over. You’re safe. We’re all safe. We should celebrate with a moonlight run out on the slopes, followed by a warm-up in the hot tub.

What a wonderful thought. Mandy led her to the phone.

“You can use this one right here.”

“Thank you.” She reached the house phone and picked it up just as the nearby elevator opened.

“Hello? Hello?” The line sounded dead. “Hello?” She glanced at Mandy, wondering why Mandy still stood there, watching her.

Horror suddenly touched her like cold claws when she noticed the faint mark on Mandy’s throat.

Before she could say anything or scream or even move, something stung her on the back of her upper arm. She had no time to cry out before the effects of whatever stung her made her feel light-headed, despite the pain that lingered. And it was her sore shoulder too, the one that had been slammed against the wall, not once but twice. The stinger grew to feel like a hot brand.

Her vision blurred. There were two Mandys.

Then she felt as if she were underwater.

She couldn’t breathe, and when she did, the horrid, burning smell of something like paint thinner burned her nose.

She couldn’t think.

Her legs grew weak, and she started to fall.

Strong hands caught her and kept her from being nose level with the floor. She recognized the touch. So many evil thoughts and emotions bombarded her that Jane wanted to cry out. But she couldn’t find the strength or the breath.

She felt his need—his actual desire—to kill her and to kill so many others. His thoughts came to her in visions so fast they were like pictures caught in flashes of lightning. They left her head aching.

She saw Ella Masterson, her hands bound with silver tape. Then Bart kissed Ella like a lover, soft and gentle. He promised to kill her husband quickly. Then he laughed and said, “Maybe not. Maybe I’ll let him suffer for a while.”

Another quick vision was of a dark, dank, putrid place, with straw on the ground where Mandy had been his latest victim. Mandy might be helping him now, but she hadn’t come to be there easily or painlessly.

Her heart twisted.
Milo
… She tried to call out to him in her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure she had enough energy to send it. Lost in the effects of the drug she’d been given, Jane couldn’t determine what was real.

Bart’s voice and his hot breath touched her ear. He smelled as if he’d swum in turpentine. It must have been the only way he could cover his own horrid vampire scent—he had to wrap himself in something stronger and even worse smelling.

“Hello, Jane. My sweet Jane,” Bart said, his voice seductive.

She felt his lips touch her neck, not far from Milo’s mark. She may be drugged and out of control, but at his contact, her skin burned. Then the burning faded, as did the light and awareness. Jane slid into the deep darkness that swallowed her.

* * * *

Milo stepped into the old stable. The pungent smell of Bart lingered in the air. It was evident he’d been injured and had recuperated here. Yet Milo felt no actual presence of his evil. He remained quiet as his keen sense of sight adjusted to the darkness. In the farthest stall from the door, he looked down at the straw and recognized where Bart must have lain. His stomach roiled with what he felt and what he smelled must have happened in this spot in the straw.

“He fed on someone here,” James said as he stepped up close behind Milo.

“Yes, but can you tell who?”

James breathed in a deep breath. “The scent is familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Neither can I.”

“And it wasn’t that long ago either. Looks like he slipped away from us again.”

Milo swallowed hard. “No, he didn’t. He set a trap, and we fell right into it.”

“What?”

Milo reached for his cell phone. “Jane.” He reached out to her with his thoughts and felt…

Nothing.

It was as if she might be asleep, and yet that wasn’t what he felt either. In fact, he had the sinking feeling that if he went to sleep himself, there would be no dream state to share with her.

The dread got worse when Jane didn’t answer her cell phone. Much to his dismay, Mr. M. still didn’t answer his either. Milo let out an oath that echoed through the emptiness of the stable. “Mr. M.’s still not answering either.”

He dialed Jacob next. Jacob answered on the first ring. “How’s everything there?” Milo was almost too terrified to ask.

“Well, with another storm moving in, the lobby is pretty busy. Lots of people coming and going, mostly coming in, I guess. And with the printers at the front desk not working—”

“The printers are down?” Milo didn’t like the sound of that.

“Yeah, for about the last hour or so.”

“But the security of the computer information is intact?”

“Yes, sir. Drew and Zack have been on it.”

“Have you seen Mr. M.?”

“A short while ago, he was behind the desk, but now he’s gone.”

Milo couldn’t stop his sense of foreboding. It sent bile burning in his throat that he had to force himself to swallow down. “And there’s nothing else out of the ordinary?”

“Short of a few plumbing problems, no.”

“All right. I’ve got a few more things to check out here; then we’ll be back.”

“I’ll keep everything tight as a drum until then,” Jacob promised.

Milo pressed End. Jacob’s promise didn’t make him feel better.

“This whole place reeks of him.” James looked down at the straw.

“It reeks of all sorts of things,” Milo put in, noting the rotting garlic and onions and various other unidentifiable things.

James kicked some straw around with the tip of his shoe. “It’s how he keeps hiding his scent from us. He keeps covering it up with something worse.”

Milo let out a heavy breath, wishing his nose was keen enough to sort out the various distinct odors so he could place Bart’s latest feeding victim. The headache that hit him was sudden and fierce. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinded by intense pain. Then as sudden as it came, the pain disappeared. In its wake was Jane’s voice.

“Milo, where are you? I need you.”

There were more words pushed into his thoughts. They came so fast they jumbled together.
“Mr. M.’s office… Mrs. M. crying… Love…”
It sounded a bit too close to Jane’s vision, and it sent his heart pounding. “We need to get back.”

Outside, the snow was coming down and blowing hard. Milo swore. The return trip wouldn’t be so easy.

* * * *

Graham didn’t need any of this. Not today. Not with Ella trying to rest upstairs. She’d told him that morning she’d had stomach cramps. Perhaps it was the upsetting evening before. Perhaps it was the baby. No one knew. Dr. Burns insisted she be on bed rest. And it didn’t matter that Dr. Burns was with her. Graham wanted—needed—to be with her. She understood he couldn’t be with her, that he had things in the resort to check and fix. It also didn’t matter that he could connect with her and feel that she now rested, watching some sappy movie on the television. And he didn’t like the sudden unrest that hung over the resort. In fact, he couldn’t remember a day where so many things had gone wrong.

Four toilets were backed up.

The phone wasn’t working in Room 613.

The kitchen manager reported that all the lobster that had arrived for the evening dinner was rotten.

The concierge must have taken a leave of absence, because he wasn’t to be found anywhere.

Reports indicated avalanche conditions on the North Ridge.

The computer printers at the front desk weren’t working.

Another storm was moving in with another several inches of snow expected.

And he couldn’t find his fucking cell phone.

He picked up the front desk phone and called Zack. “There’s a problem with the printers here at the front desk.”

“Drew and I are already on it.”

“Good.” Well, that was one thing handed off to get fixed. He was sorry it was going to frustrate the workers at the front desk for a while, as everything would have to be handwritten. “When you get the chance, could you call my cell phone? I can’t find it.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had it, and it wasn’t like him to set it down anywhere, but given everything that had happened lately, he could deal with a lost cell phone. He looked across the crowded lobby. Jane Smyth smiled as she made a group of kids squeal with laughter over a trick she performed. That woman was very quick. He never saw her hand move as she transferred one folded dollar bill for another. Where was Milo? Graham didn’t think he would be very far away.

“What’s that smell?” he asked one of the counter helpers.

“Paint thinner or turpentine,” came the reply.

“Oh?”

“There’s some work going on near the elevators, I think.”

“I hadn’t been told of any work needing to be done,” Graham muttered. He poured himself a cup of coffee from a pot behind the counter and took a drink, letting it warm his insides. As soon as he got the chance, he’d call and have some lunch delivered to Ella. The front desk was suddenly overwhelmed with activity and guests needing anything from check-in, to checkout, to where was the best ski rental, or where could they buy a tube of toothpaste?

He set his cup down and wrote out a receipt for a guest checking in. He programmed the door key card and smiled as he handed it to the woman, who smiled seductively back. He ignored the look, his thoughts on his wife.

After waiting on three more people, he picked up his cup of coffee and left the desk, seeking the quiet of his office after he checked on Ella. He turned to one of the counter workers. “When you find Tim, the concierge, tell him I want to see him.” He took a long drink of his now cooled coffee and tossed the cup away before he headed to the elevator.

The smell of paint thinner burned his nose as he looked for signs of work being done. He saw none and wondered if perhaps the paint thinner had been spilled and not actually used to thin any paint. And who had approved any chemicals in the lobby on a day like today when the doors couldn’t be opened for ventilation, anyway? He’d find out who placed that order without his knowledge as soon as he got the chance. He was sure to get a few complaints from the patrons. He let out a heavy breath and pushed the button for the elevator. A moment later, he climbed inside an empty car.