Authors: Cara Ellison
“Did you check with the D.C. and Portland police about missing people? Any reports of anyone missing around the time of the flight?”
“No reports of anyone missing.”
“You’re still cowboying this task force?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll look at the reports. Thanks for keeping me apprised.”
“Yeah, well, interagency cooperation and all that shit.”
An involuntary smile touched Guy’s lips. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He hung up and frowned. Something he had noticed at the scene came back to him now. Something small, but was still bothering him. He reached to one of the files on the shelves and pulled out some photographs of the scene. It was early morning; the sun was fully up, glinting off the metal of the mangled wreckage, and dazzlingly bright on the snow.
As he looked at the photos, the details came flooding back. The overturned seats. The money that looked like it had rained down from a generous God. Finally he found a shot he was looking for. It was a broad shot of a chunk of relatively intact fuselage with the wing torn off. And there, barely visible, were small marks in the snow that could be footprints walking away from the wreckage.
At the time, he’d only barely noticed them. Even now, he was aware they could be from the other agents on the scene. But there was something very deliberate about the way they walked away from the wreckage. They didn’t circle the fuselage like they were examining the wreckage. They just walked away, from the fuselage toward the trees, deeper into the mountains.
He shifted through some other photos, and then found a long shot that was taken near the fuselage, facing the broken wing. And there, perfectly preserved, were footsteps tromping away, down the mountain.
Holy shit.
A survivor? What about the second missing person? Did two people survive? If that was the case, why didn’t any friends or loved ones report them missing?
A crash that had seemed tragic and horrible but also relatively routine had suddenly become interesting.
Thirteen
Mark pumped up the tires and lubed the chains of the old mountain bikes hanging in the garage, then lowered the seat of the smaller one so it fit Aimee. Setting out down the road toward Spanner town center, Mark was surprised by Aimee’s competitive spirit. Her strength and determination had been evident since the first day, but it was only last night that he saw she had real talent. He had hated every second of yogalates – his body was not inclined to move the way she instructed, though the women seemed to handle the rather ambitious positions just fine. Despite the torture she’d inflicted, he had genuinely enjoyed watching her, and he wouldn’t have missed the class for the world.
They stopped at the Spanner Breakfast House on Capitol Street for omelets and pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice, then rode the blacktop back to the ranch.
For the next item on the day’s agenda, Mark put May in the cargo area of the 4Runner and Aimee buckled into the seat beside him. Aimee was mostly quiet, sighing contentedly once or twice when a particularly awe-inspiring tableau opened before her. It was only a twenty-mile drive, but the air was cooler and drier up here, and the natural beauty could daze even a longtime resident like himself.
Finally he turned off the asphalt, and made his way deeper into the mountains. Finally, the Resort at Starlight Lake came into view. Lauren’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, it is beautiful.”
Mark smirked. It wasn’t beautiful, not anymore. It was neglected and sad, reminding Mark of the creepy hotel in The Shining. But Aimee obviously saw what he saw – the raw potential.
“This place has got to be an absolute winter wonderland at Christmas,” Aimee said, stepping out of the truck.
Mark let May out of the car, and she ran sniffing at the ground, hyper in the nippy air.
The Resort at Starlight Lake had been one of his favorite places as a kid, but even then it was starting to show its age. His father had built it, believing he could capitalize on the travelers heading to Glacier National Park. But he had been so busy with his oil company and other interests that he could not give it the attention it needed. He had some good people running the place, but they too eventually gave up on it since it wasn’t becoming the next big thing Mark’s father had hoped. Then, six years ago, he had folded the resort with no plans to do anything with the property.
The cabins were in terrible shape, their roofs especially needing attention after several seasons of blizzards. The hotel itself was in only slightly better condition. The lobby’s ruined carpets and woodwork stank with mildew. Dust and cobwebs covered every surface. But the clear light twirling from the giant glass wall, which he’d copied for the his ranch, was beautiful. Not too distantly down the mountain, the ski lift sagged with snow and seasons of disuse. He could remember as a kid riding on the lift with his siblings, waving to the people in the lobby.
Aimee was standing quite still near the check in counter that ran the length of the lobby. She gazed out the windows to the mountains, then around the large dingy space, now sour with age and neglect. “This could really be something,” she said quietly.
May started up the stairs. Aimee called for her to come, and May instantly stopped and walked toward her. Mark marveled at how quickly they’d found that mind-meld. How utterly natural it was that his dog should obey her. May sure was going to be sad when Aimee left for Portland.
It was a subject he hadn’t let himself ruminate over too much. She had to go, so he wasn’t going to hold her back. Especially not after Seth had played those mind games with her, making her doubt herself and making her forgo her entire life for him. Mark wanted to beat him for that. Of all the horrible things to do to someone, to rob them of their life just to gratify his oversized ego… it was just obscene. Well, he wasn’t going to do that to her. When the time came, he’d send her off to Portland with a smile.
Okay, maybe not a smile. It had become obvious that he was in deep trouble with this girl. He had gotten addicted to the feeling that they were in it together. He had to stop himself when he found himself talking about the future with her. It was just so easy to slip into that mode. There was a smooth, comfortable feeling that he realized with surprise was trust. He trusted her.
Aimee sauntered over to the wall of glass and looked out to the ski area. Mark joined her there. It was still too early in the season for skiing, even up at this altitude, but by the middle of next month, world-class skiers would be all over Jubilee Mountain. “It’s so pretty,” she said with genuine wonder in her voice.
“It’s definitely got the wilderness act down pat,” he answered wryly.
Aimee smiled. She was very close. Close enough to see the flecks of mica and gold in her jungle eyes, and the sexy little seam of her bottom lip. So soft, so sexy. Vulnerable. He saw the surprise and desire dilate in her eyes and a powerful gravitational pull pushed him incrementally closer until his lips hovered over hers. She shut her eyes as his hand came around her head, kissing her, craving her though they’d made love that morning.
May’s panicked, urgent howl filled the air with sudden sharp insistence that Mark had never heard before. He whipped his head around to see the May scooting backward even as she howled and barked ferociously at the massive, lumbering Grizzly bear that had stalked into the lobby.
Aimee let out a high-pitched squeal, then covered her mouth with her hands.
“Walk slowly out the door, Aimee. Walk backward, facing the bear and me. Just walk. Hopefully May will follow.”
“What about you?” Her trembling voice was a dry rasp.
The bear’s massive head came up, and his prominent nose sniffed the air while his black eyes locked on May, who was still growling and barking.
“Just do it,” Mark said with a calmness he didn’t feel.
Slowly Aimee began to back away. The bear took a slow, nonchalant step toward May.
“May, quiet,” Aimee said with a voice that was surprisingly strong.
May was shaking, but she hushed. She whined and whimpered, but she stopped barking. She backed from the bear toward Aimee.
The bear, however, continued directly toward May and Aimee. “Aimee, run.”
Aimee ran, with May taking the cue and bolting ahead. The bear began to lope toward the door. Mark grabbed a nearby chair and flung it at the bear’s head. It hit the side of his face, then clattered to the ground in pieces. The bear paused, looked around and locked eyes with Mark, as if just realizing he was still here.
Mark saw another heavy chair near the reception desk and ran for it. The bear followed. He vaulted himself up. Mark stood up on the reception desk, grabbed the chair, and looked at the bear, which was pacing back and forth in front of him like a prison guard.
Mark spotted a telephone unit where the computer monitor would be in a modern hotel, and he grabbed it, yanking the cords out of the wall. He waited until the bear was looking directly at him, then threw the phone into the bear’s face. Predictably it pissed him off even more. He reared back on his hind legs, towering over Mark, and let out a roar. Mark swung the chair into the side of the bear’s head with all the force in his body. The bear seemed surprised. He fell down to all fours. With a sniff and a look over his shoulder, he loped away, back to the hallway where he’d come from.
Mark waited until he was gone from sight, then on weak legs jumped onto the ground. He jogged outside, slamming the doors behind him, and saw Aimee and May in the front seat of the Bronco. Aimee opened her door and stumbled out, then ran directly to him. She flung herself into his arms, and he held tight. “Are you okay?” she asked. Her body was positively vibrating with fear.
He nodded. “I’m fine. Just a bear.”
She laughed slightly at the understatement, then pulled back so she could find his eyes and know he was safe. “I was really scared.”
She looked it too. All enormous green eyes and trembling lips. She nervously looked behind him for any trace of the bear. “What should we do?” Aimee asked.
The thought of encountering the bear again had quashed any hope of touring the property today. But before Mark could answer, she was startled by the honk of a vehicle pulling behind the Bronco.
Aimee jolted backward, her breath ragged. A gleaming forest green Range Rover parked behind the Bronco.
“Who is that?” she whispered.
“I have no idea.”
Aimee squinted into the driver’s side of the windshield but the reflections of the sun made it impossible to see. She edged slightly behind Mark. “Oh God, is it Seth?”
Polished Bally loafers touched the asphalt. Definitely not from around here. A husky middle-aged man followed.
Mark didn’t recognize the stranger standing in the
parking circle at the Starlight Lake Resort.
“Help you?” Mark asked.
The man grinned. “I didn’t realize anyone would be here. I’m Bob Hayes,” he said and stepped forward to shake Mark’s hand. “Hayes Development.”
Mark’s heart sank. He asked directly, “What brings you here?”
“I talked to Josh – is he your brother?”
“Yes. God help him.”
“Josh and I have been talking about doing business together.”
Mark could only imagine. He narrowed his eyes at the developer, trying to take his measure. “You’re the one who wants to build a golf course.”
Bob Hayes laughed. “A whole luxury resort, actually. With skiing, world-class fly fishing, and of course, golfing.”
Mark had a weird sense of déjà vu. He’d said pretty much the same thing to Aimee. If the Resort at Starlight Lake was going to be turned into a luxury resort, he wanted to do it. He had done it before, after all. He knocked down all the old buildings to their foundations at Spanner Ranch and rebuilt a beautiful, contemporary home in its place. He had saved some of the original flourishes, like the giant stone fireplace in the great room, and he’d used some of the original timbers for the pitched roof.