Afraid (20 page)

Julie nodded, and began to blush again. “I liked it a lot. And I think he did, too, once he got over being shocked. That's one of the reasons I didn't like kissing Mr. Stratford, even though I thought he was Ross. I kept thinking about your brother.”

“That's the best news I've had all year!” Donna absolutely beamed. “Did Paul ask you to go out?”

“No. He apologized. And then he promised me it wouldn't happen again.”

“Right.” Donna's grin grew wider. “My brother, the gentleman. Give him a little time, Julie. Paul's dense sometimes, but he'll come around. And I can almost guarantee you that if he kissed you once, he'll kiss you again.”

 

It was three in the morning, and Julie still couldn't sleep. She'd tried all the usual tricks, counting sheep, watching a bad movie, reading a boring book, but none of them had worked. The talk she'd had with Donna had helped a lot, but she was still worried about having kissed Dick Stratford. He'd assured her that Stratford men didn't kiss and tell, but the other harlequin had followed them out on the terrace. It would be horribly embarrassing if he told anyone what he'd seen.

There was no sense staying in bed when sleep was impossible. Julie got up and flicked on the light. It only took a moment to dress in jeans and a Saddlepeak Lodge sweatshirt, and then she grabbed her key and let herself out of the apartment. Since she was awake, she might as well work. Mrs. Robinson would be grateful if she tidied up the kitchen before breakfast had to be served.

The elevator doors opened the moment she pressed the button. Julie rode down and walked through the silent lobby. Dave had night clerk duty, and Julie grinned as she caught him sleeping at the desk. She didn't blame him. It had been an exhausting party, and the phone would wake him if one of the guests had a middle-of-the-night request.

There wasn't as much to do in the kitchen as she'd thought. The work crew had washed the dishes and put them away. Julie ran soapy water in the sink and wiped down the stainless steel counters until they were clean and shining. She was about to go back upstairs when she noticed that there was a platter of cold cuts sitting-out on the butcher block worktable in the center of the room.

The kitchen was chilly, and the meat would probably be all right until morning, but since she was here, Julie decided to put it away. She picked up the heavy platter and carried it to the huge walk-in refrigerator before she realized that it was locked. Restaurant personnel had the combination to the lock, but she didn't. And the big serving platter would never fit in Aunt Caroline's refrigerator upstairs. What should she do?

Julie stared down at the platter. There was Black Forest ham, choice smoked turkey breast, delicious rare roast beef, and an array of expensive cheeses. It was a shame to take a chance that all this good food would spoil. Uncle Bob was always complaining about waste in the kitchen.

Suddenly Julie realized who'd been assigned to put away the party platters. She'd heard Uncle Bob tell Donna to do it. Her friend might be in danger of losing her job if Uncle Bob discovered the forgotten plate of cold cuts. She had to do something. But what?

Julie glanced around the kitchen again and began to smile. It would be breaking a rule, but she'd cover the platter with several extra layers of plastic wrap and put it the game cooler for the rest of the night. The game cooler was never locked. Of course, restaurant food wasn't supposed to be kept in there, but Donna could sneak it out again in the morning.

It took only a few moments to wrap the platter. Julie carried it to the game cooler and hesitated. No one was allowed to open it from the kitchen entrance—it was a health regulation—but the inspectors would never know.

The game cooler had been the original walk-in refrigerator for the lodge, when her great-great-grandparents had owned it. Since those early years, the restaurant refrigerator had been replaced with successively newer models. The walk-in refrigerator Mrs. Robinson used now was state-of-the-art, with lights that went on automatically, doors that couldn't lock from the inside, and handy, moveable shelves and hooks. The game cooler was ancient, but it was perfectly adequate for its purpose. When hunters brought in their kill, it was stored in the original cooler until the town butcher came to cut and wrap it for the successful sportsman. The trophy animals were stored there, too, until Red Dawson skinned or mounted them.

She frowned as she thought of Red. Julie had caught him staring at her several times, and she hoped he wasn't beginning to feel the same way about her as he'd felt about Vicki. She liked Red even though he was a little strange, but she wasn't at all interested in going out with him. If he asked her, she'd have to turn him down. And she'd have to be very careful how she worded her refusal. Vicki had hurt him badly, and he might be very sensitive.

Julie balanced the tray in one hand and pulled on the door. It was very heavy. There were two entrances to the cooler. The game was brought in through an outside door to avoid the kitchen. There were several official signs posted on the kitchen entrance, warning about potential contamination, and it was never used. Julie had heard Uncle Bob tell Mr. Larkin to board it up as soon as possible, to comply with health regulations. But Mr. Larkin had been busy replacing floors in several of the guest bathrooms. Thank goodness he hadn't done it yet!

The heavy door creaked as it swung open, and Julie shivered slightly. It was dark inside. She felt around on the wall for the light, and found a knob, but no switch. How odd. But then she remembered the old-fashioned light switches she'd encountered in an old hotel on the West Bank, and she turned the knob it until it gave a resounding
click.

A dim bulb lit up, and Julie shuddered as she saw several carcasses swaying on hooks in the center of the long room. It was best not to look too closely. Julie stepped in to place the platter on a wooden shelf near the door, but the shelf was old, and the wood had warped with age. The platter slid dangerously close to the edge, and Julie caught it just in time.

Averting her eyes from the swinging carcasses, Julie moved deeper into the cooler. She managed to find a solid shelf, and she set down the platter carefully. Then she checked to make sure the plastic wrap was tightly in place, and turned to leave. That was when she heard it, a sound that made her gasp in fright. The cooler door was creaking shut.

Julie sprinted toward the bright, safe light of the kitchen. She should have propped the door open! But she hadn't, and she reached the door just as it shut with a heavy thud.

Frantically, she reached for the handle. No reason to panic. She'd just open it from this side. But there was only a smooth panel of metal. No handle. No way to open the door.

She screamed then, a thin, high scream of terror. No one knew she was here. No one would dream of opening the game cooler to look for her. She was trapped, and there was no way out!

 

It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Julie's panic was timeless. She knew she'd been pounding on the door for some time. Her hands felt hot and bruised, a startling contrast to the rest of her body, which was chilled and shaking. Unanswered questions flashed through her terrified mind. Would she suffocate? Was there enough air? Or would she freeze to death first? There was a thermometer hanging right next to the door. Thirty-seven degrees. Could she freeze to death when the temperature was above the freezing point?

Then she thought of the other door, the door that led to the outside. Perhaps it had a handle on the inside. She'd come in through the original door, and safeguards like inside handles might not have been required when the cooler was built. But the outside door had been added later. She wasn't sure exactly when it had been installed, but it might conform to the new safety standards. If so, it would have an inside handle!

There was only way to find out. Julie got to her feet, and frowned. Why was she kneeling on the floor? She couldn't remember. Then she turned to face the other end of the cooler and the narrow corridor that led to the outside door. Her eyes swept past the hanging carcasses, and she shuddered. To get to the other door, she'd have to walk past all those awful gutted shapes, those horrible, huge, frightening animals. But she had to do it. It was her only hope of escape.

It was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Even though Julie tried not to look, her eyes were drawn to the grotesque shapes and the monstrous shadows they cast. She forced her trembling legs to move past the deer, gutted and bloody, with their heads still attached. Their eyes stared sightlessly down at her, and their antlers looked as sharp as the meat hooks that were forced through their necks.

Julie took a deep, shuddering breath and moved past the elk. More sharp antlers cast crazy, nightmarish patterns against the walls of the freezer. And the wild boar, with evil-looking tusks that seemed ready to pin her to the wall, pierce her trembling body, and stare down in sightless fascination as the life ran from her veins and stained the floor red. The bear was horrible with its shaggy, dark bulk. One swipe of its razor-sharp claws and her face would be cut to ribbons. Even the Rocky Mountain sheep, normally stately and taciturn in a natural setting, looked sinister and frightening now.

There was a sudden noise, and a blast of air that made her heart jump to her throat. Julie opened her mouth to scream, but she was too terrified to make a sound. The carcasses were swinging, swaying, taking on a life of their own. They looked ready to grab her, devour her, as she stood helpless and trembling, rooted to the spot in paralyzing fear.

But it was only a powerful blower. The cooling unit had kicked in. Julie sighed, a ragged little sound that emerged from her throat as a moan of terror, and made herself move past the bodies of the dead animals. At least there was air. Or was there? It could be a closed unit, merely recycling the frigid air that would soon lose its oxygen. But it was best not to think of that.

She was almost there, only a few feet to go. She had to keep her legs moving, force her imagination to stay in check. These huge animals couldn't hurt her. They were already dead. As dead as she'd be if she didn't get out of here soon.

That was exactly the impetus she needed. Julie broke into a shambling, awkward run, and reached the door with a thankful sob. Her hands reached out, searching, searching . . . and finding nothing. No handle. No way out. She was trapped like those awful dead animals. Trapped with them to become just another unfortunate victim.

It was colder here, near the outside door. But she couldn't go back to the other end of the cooler. She couldn't force herself to pass all those hideous carcasses again. It would be over sooner here. There was no reason to try to hang on. No one would find her. No one would save her. She was doomed.

“No!” Julie's cry of protest bounced against the walls. She would not willingly become a victim. She'd fight until she couldn't fight any longer. She'd walk the length of the cooler again even if she died of fear. At least it would be quicker than freezing to death.

This time she watched her feet, one in front of the other, trying to ignore the swaying shadows on the floor and the wall. Step and step again, steady and straight. She had nothing to fear except fear itself.

Julie smiled then, although it was more of a grimace. The quote was from Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and she was willing to bet he'd never been locked inside a game cooler. But the smile seemed to help to keep her feet moving forward. She'd head for the warmest spot, right by the door that led into the kitchen, and hope that someone would find her.

At last she reached the door, and Julie gave a thankful sigh. She had to think positively. She couldn't actually freeze to death. It was above thirty-two degrees. Of course she could suffer from hypothermia, but she wouldn't think about that. The butcher could come before then, if he worked on Saturday. Or Red Dawson. He always did taxidermy work on his off hours. She had to keep the faith. She had to believe that someone would find her. Any other possibility was too horrible to contemplate.

Julie shivered, and then she yawned. She was so tired. Unusually tired. All she wanted to do was curl up near the door and go to sleep. But she couldn't do that! She remembered a story she'd read about a man falling asleep in the snow and freezing to death. She had to keep moving, keep her body generating warmth. But she was so tired, she could barely raise her arms.

She'd pound on the door. She'd pound with her arms, raise them and lower them. That would keep her body warm. Julie raised her right arm and whacked the door. It hurt and that was good. She couldn't give up and go to sleep if her arm was hurting. She raised her left arm and banged it even harder. How long could she keep this up? It had been almost four in the morning when she'd decided to put away the platter, and Mrs. Robinson was always in the kitchen by six-thirty. Two and a half hours to go.

Long minutes passed as Julie raised and lowered her arms, pounding and knocking until her arms wouldn't obey her mind's command. She slipped to her knees, and then to a tired, huddled crouch. She knew she couldn't give way to exhaustion. She had to keep pounding so Mrs. Robinson would hear her.

Heat rises. The moment the thought occurred to her, Julie tried to stand again. But she was so tired, she could barely pull herself up to a kneeling position. She'd lean against the door, and pound on it with her fists. That was a very good idea. She'd do it, in just a minute. But first she'd close her eyes, just for a second, to gather her strength.

Julie knew she was making a mistake as her eyes flickered shut. But she couldn't seem to open them. Just a moment more, and she'd be ready to stand up. It seemed much warmer now, almost toasty warm. Snug and cozy, with the heat register open, huddled beneath the blankets in her warm, safe room with the lovely blue walls and the . . .

Julie's eyes snapped open and she pulled herself to her feet. She'd almost gone to sleep! She had to fight the lethargy that stole over her. It would be a battle to stay awake, but she would do it.