The 22nd Secret (3 page)

Her eyes held his firmly. There was something magical about them. He felt as though she was looking deep into his soul, holding him motionless. Then out of nowhere, he heard Paula’s voice in his mind.
Don’t feel guilty. I liked it too.

“That’s it. We’re outta here. Get on, Paula.” He helped her sit on the back of the snowmobile. Jim put a sock on over one of the gloves and was starting on the other.

“My cosmetics case?”

“What?” Jim slid the other pair of socks over Paula’s boots. “I want my cosmetics case out of the plane.”

“You’ve got to be kid--” Jim stopped when his eyes met Paula’s darting out of the facemask. He knew before he could protest that he would do what she wanted. He tried to make sense out of the influence Paula had over him as he fetched the cosmetics case.

He climbed on the snowmobile in front of Pam and worked the case between his legs. The snow has falling hard now, and the wind whistled through the trees. He took one last look at the darkening sky and put on his facemask. “Hold on tight, Paula. If I feel your grip loosening around me I'll assume you’re losing consciousness and stop, okay.”

“Don’t worry about me. Let’s go.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. Her grip was tighter than that of most women.

“What’s your name?” She asked this directly in his ear, sending shivers down his back.

“Jim. Jim Mitchell.” He had to shout over the revving engine.

“Thank God for you, Jim, Jim Mitchell”, she said, not loud enough to be heard. She gave him another squeeze knowing he’d recognize this one as a thanks.

They pulled away and thoughts came flooding back to her.
What a mess, what do I do now? Tino and Lucky must be dead. Jim just wouldn’t have left them there. Shit, what a fucking mess. Damn it, think. What are you going to do?

She laid the side of her head against the center of Jim’s back and closed her eyes as the snowmobile began to climb the hill away from the crash. The vibration of the engine coming up through the seat combined with Jim’s broad strong back filled her with a warm inner security. Whatever she did, she had to keep Jim out of this. She owed him that and more. He saved her life.

A plan, I need a plan.

The hour-long ride to Jim’s lodge through the darkening wind-blown night gave Pam more than enough time to come up with a story to tell Jim. She spent the rest of the time picturing Jim’s rugged face and absorbing his confidence through his back. The violence of the crash and the freezing wind took a toll on her body. Every muscle ached; every bone hurt. She was ready to get off when the snowmobile finally stopped and Jim cut off the engine.

She opened her eyes and let go of Jim just as he stood up. Her arms were stiff as boards. She waved them to loosen them up a little and eyed her cosmetics case sitting on the seat just ahead of her. She grabbed it just as Jim reached for it.

“I’ll get that.”

“That’s okay,” Pam said, as she took his extended hand and stood up. “Ouch, man. I hurt all over. Is this where you live?” She shouted over the howling wind and pointed at the dark two-story log structure directly in front of them.

“Yeah, let’s get inside.” Jim helped Paula up the stairs and across the large covered porch where he served his guests coffee in the morning and beer in the evening. He flung open one of the double doors and walked into the pitch-black room ahead of Paula.

Pam tiptoed into the room just enough to close the door behind her.

“Jim?” she called.

“Over here,” he said as a match lit up his face, then a glass kerosene lamp. He placed the globe on it and blew out the match. The room flickered to life. She stood by the door looking around the spacious room as Jim headed to the large stone fireplace directly across from where she stood.

“Make yourself at home. Take off the facemask and those socks at least. You look funny enough wearing that big red parka and those baggy men’s dress slacks.”

She took one step toward the red leather sofa across the room in front of the fireplace before realizing she had socks over her boots. She sat in the high-backed chair just behind her next to the door, rather than slip around with snow-covered socks on the hardwood floor. She tried to pull the mask off but the socks over the gloves were crusted over with snow. She bit the toe of one with her teeth and pulled it off. With her gloved hand she removed it from her mouth and threw it on the floor. Then the other sock, both gloves, the facemask, and finally the socks on the boots. She shook her head, while running her fingers thru her hair. The static electricity from the cold and wool mask tangled her hair further. She unzipped the cosmetics case on her lap and looked in the compact mirror. Even in the dim light she could see the mascara smeared over her cheeks. She was a disaster.

“Come on over to the fire.” Jim was standing directly over her and smiling ear to ear. He knew what she saw in the mirror and wanted to make it as easy as he could. “Stand up. Let’s get you out of those coats and pants.”

Pam rose cautiously. She felt weak and tired. She was defenseless after looking at herself in the mirror. She allowed Jim to take off both coats and sat down as Jim knelt and unbuckled her boots.

“You know, I’d be a mess for days going through what you did. You’re one strong beautiful lady.” He looked directly into Paula’s eyes. Once again, he felt the power of her eyes. She was quiet, and he hoped this wasn’t a sign he had moved too fast.

“Where is everyone?” Paula asked, looking around.

“You mean the men with you in the plane?”

“No. I realize they didn’t make it or you would have rescued them. I mean this room, has to seat twenty. Maybe more. Where’s your family? How many bedrooms this place got? This is not what you’d call your typical backwoods cabin.”

Jim chuckled and stood up. “Stand up,” he said.

Paula stood and the oversized pants dropped to her ankles. Jim held her shoulders in his strong hands, squaring her to him to make sure she understood.

“I live here alone,” he said. He smiled and enunciated slowly. “This is my fishing lodge. Closed for the winter. It’s how I make a living, at least during the summer.”

“That explains all the heads hanging around on the walls. You like dead animal heads?”

Although Jim did not suspect anything more than conversation was taking place between them, Pam confirmed her plan would work. They were alone and she knew she could make this powerful man do whatever she wanted.

“Well, the guests expect it. Part of the ambiance, you know. Originally, this was a hunting and fishing lodge. We just do fishing now.”

Now there was no reason for either to slow down. Her eyes perked up with confidence. Turning toward the couch, Jim put his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s warm you up.” She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his biceps as they walked toward the fireplace.

Standing together gazing into the fireplace, Paula said, “I’d like to freshen up a little.”

“Oh sure, wait here. I’ll be right back.” Jim disappeared through an opening in the middle of the wall just to the right of the fireplace.

Pam sat down in the middle of the burgundy leather couch. It was enormous and plush. She sat as far back in the couch as she could while hanging her legs over the front and was still a good foot from the back. The Indian blanket that covered the center made it more comfortable than sitting directly on the leather. Throw pillows of various sizes were piled at each end of the couch.

In the far corner of the room she could make out a PC and what looked like a two-way radio. The stairs to the second floor also ran along the far wall. The walls on each side of the fireplace were lined with built-in shelving, holding hundreds of book, dozens of games, and an occasional knick-knack. A wooden bar and stools stood along the entire right wall. Bottles were stacked on shelves behind the bar, on each side of a large, rudimentary painting of a reclining nude lady in a gilded frame. In front of the bar were several round game tables with leather barrel chairs. The area was reminiscent of a saloon she saw in some forgotten western.

The only thing out of place was the large mounted television near the ceiling, perched in the corner to be viewed from the bar and tables. The rest of the room was peppered with tables and chairs, some with electric lamps where people could carry on small conversations or read. There were several throw rugs throughout the room and, of course, the typical white bear rug with a stuffed head between the couch and fireplace. The fireplace was a massive stone amalgam with a razed hearth and an opening large enough for her to stand in. A fire blazed within it that filled the room with heat.

The stone chimney rose to the ceiling, which was covered by neatly organized rows of Indian blankets. There were dozens of all different patterns and colors. When lighted by the daylight that would stream in the windows, which ran across the front of the room, Pam could spend a whole day lying on this wonderful couch studying them. The walls were covered with stuffed animal and fish trophies, the largest of which was the massive moose head classically mounted above the mantel. Although the décor carried no real effort at coordination, Pam thought the room matched Jim’s solitary ruggedness. In this way it was wonderfully cozy and comfortable, the kind of place anyone would feel at home in and not hesitate to put her feet on the furniture. It was the ambiance she would expect if she were a guest in a remote Alaskan log cabin. In fact, it was deliciously romantic if she thought about it – the storm, the rustic lodge vacant for the winter, except for her and Jim. If only the situation were different. Pam lay back on the couch and began to doze off while she fantasized.

“Okay, this way.” Paula slowly opened her eyes and turned to see Jim standing in the opening carrying a lit kerosene lamp. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you were sleeping.”

“That’s all right. I need to go.” She stood up grimacing from stiffness. It was going to be a while before she recovered from the trauma of the crash.

She walked through the opening behind Jim carrying her cosmetics case, into another large room lit only by the lamp Jim held. It had an identical stone fireplace to the one in the great room situated directly on the other side of the wall. There were tables with chairs stored upside-down on top and windows across the back wall. Pam wondered if there was a view. For now all she could see was snow beating against the glass.

“This is the dining room,” Jim said. “And over here are the restrooms.” He pointed down a hallway to the right. “I make this speech to all my guests. White Bear Lake Lodge was built in 1949 from native timber logged at this site. An oil furnace in the basement heats the lodge. It also provides lots of hot water, so don’t hesitate to use as much as you want. The water is pure spring water piped in year round from a spring high on White Bear Mountain. We have a gasoline generator for electricity that is run from 6pm to 2am when I have guests. I usually don’t run the generator when I’m here alone except for football games. I’m a Bronco’s fan.” He handed the lamp to Paula. “I’ve got to put the snowmobile up or I won’t find it till spring. I’ll be right back. Just wait for me by the fireplace if you finish before I get back.”

She was grateful the speech was over and went through the door marked “Ladies”.

After returning and removing his coat and gloves, Jim patiently waited on one corner of the couch. He leaned against some pillows and waited for Paula to finish freshening up. He couldn’t have known that she hid the computer disks she had in her cosmetics case under a stack of hand towels in the closet.