Wake to Darkness (20 page)

“I didn’t know what to do. I came in this morning and found him like this and—”

“Did you touch anything?” Mason asked, scanning the room, seeing everything. He was like a hawk. Me, I was feeling instead of looking, but there wasn’t much to feel without a person nearby to give off signals. Cait was grieving and in shock. She was scared, too. And angry.

“I tried to help him, but as soon as I touched him, I knew...”

“Okay, okay, hang on, Cait,” Mason said.

“He didn’t deserve this. He was a good man, dammit. He didn’t deserve this.”

“I know he didn’t.” Mason moved closer, as close as he could without disturbing the blood on the floor, and bent low, lifting Finn’s T-shirt. I turned my head away, and tried to block Cait’s view, which was pointless, because she had her eyes closed.

“Stab wound, just one. Looks like it severed the abdominal aorta.” Mason sighed heavily, and when I heard him move it felt safe to look again. “It was fast, Cait, if that’s any consolation. I doubt he even felt the pain of it before...” He stopped there, and I watched his eyes tracking the blood across the floor to a spot just a few inches from where I stood.

“Someone came to the door. He went to open it, let them in. No sign of a struggle, no defensive injuries. My bet is, it was someone he knew and had no reason to mistrust.”

“This isn’t right,” Cait muttered. She’d opened her eyes again, and they were fixed on the body. I tiptoed across the room, nodded toward the blanket from the rumpled cot and asked Mason with my eyes if I could cover poor Finnegan up.

He gave me a nod in return, so I did it as gently as I could without getting too close.

Having him covered freed his grip on Cait’s eyes, which shot to Mason now. “Why? That’s what I want to know? Why on earth would this murdering bastard target Finnegan?”

“Where’s the cell phone?” I asked, because it was the obvious answer. Once that phone dried out and we plugged it in—and if it worked—we would know who the killer was. We’d figured that was a possibility. If the killer had murdered Finn and taken the phone, then there was no longer any doubt. That phone was the key.

Mason looked at Cait. “Do you know where he would have put it? He said he would lock it up for the night.”

“There’s a locker in the back,” she said. She wiped her eyes and pointed. The locker was metal and freestanding, with a padlock on the front. It was still locked. Mason walked over and stopped in front of it. “There’s something on the floor.” He bent low and came back up rubbing something between his thumb and forefinger. “Rice.”

“He must have done what you said and put the phone in rice overnight to try to draw out the moisture,” Cait said.

Mason still had his gloves on. He tugged the lock, which turned out not to be locked at all. It only looked as if it was. The hasp was free, and Mason opened the door.

A bowl sat inside, a set of keys on a chain lying beside it. “Here’s the rice. I can see traces of blood in it, though.” He pulled out his own phone and took a couple of pictures, then turned, pocketing it again as he turned to Cait. “Can you find me something to pour the rice into? I don’t want to run my hands through it. There might be trace evidence in there.”

Her eyes were back on the blanket-covered body. She’d checked out. I was going to have to step in. In two seconds I located a package of plastic wastebasket liner bags, took one out and held it up. “Will this work?”

“Yeah, perfect. Stay there, I’ll come to you.”

He crossed the room just as carefully as before, while I tried to open three sides of the bag before finally finding the right one. Then I held it open while Mason slowly poured in the rice. I grimaced at the bloody bits.

As we’d already guessed, the cell phone was gone.

Mason took the bag from me and set it aside. Then he showed me his cell phone. The photo he’d taken of the keys inside the cabinet. I frowned, and he made it bigger. “Is that—”

“A nice, crisp bloody fingerprint,” he said softly. “My guess is that’s the key that opened the padlock. Our killer must have taken the key chain from Finn.”

“We’ve got him.” I handed the phone back to him, and he pocketed it, set the rice bag and the bowl onto the desk, and nudged us back outside.

“We haven’t got him yet. If he’s in the system, yes. If we find a suspect to compare this print with, yes. But until then, we’re no closer.”

“But we can rule people out with this, can’t we?”

“Eventually, yeah. Right now we have to lock up the shack, preserve the chain of evidence. I’ve got a good shot of the print, with enough detail to email it out once we get a signal again.” He looked at Cait. “How long before you think we can get some help out here?”

She was staring blankly at the closed door. I nudged her. “Cait?”

Blinking, she came back to the present. “I... What?”

“Now that the storm is over and the sun is shining,” I asked her, “how long before the roads are passable again?”

“The sun is shining.” She blinked and looked back at the lodge. It was a beautiful place, fitting into the landscape as if it were a part of it. “How am I going to keep the guests off the slopes now? With a killer on the loose? How am I going to keep anyone safe...without Finn?” Her eyes were growing wild when she turned to Mason. “We have to get them out of here. All of them. We have to send them home.”

“Once the police get here, we can do that. They’re going to want to clear the guests one at a time,” he said.

That didn’t help. She still looked panicky. So I took a swing at it. “For this morning, Cait, you can tell the guests that the lifts are down due to the storm, the power outage, whatever, and that they’ll be up and running as soon as possible. Probably before the day is out. You can tell them the truth once the cavalry arrives. But we need to know how soon that will be.”

I was reaching her. She was listening, nodding as I spoke. “Noon, at the latest. Probably. I sent a pair of Finn’s boys out on sleds to try to get through to the village and let the police know how bad things are up here.”

“Great. Once someone knows what’s going on, they’ll get to us as fast as humanly possible,” I said, looking for something positive in this mess.

“Can you communicate with the people you sent out?” Mason asked.

She nodded, her gaze drifting back to the shack door. “Yeah, with the walkie-talkies, when they’re in range.” She licked her lips. “The base station is in there,” she said, nodding at the door. “I have a handset in my office.”

“Good,” Mason said. “I need you to lock this door and make sure no one goes inside. Post someone here. I want it watched until the police arrive.”

“All right.”

“We’ll try to reach your team from your office, and I’ll give them the number to reach my people in Binghamton. They’re familiar with the case and can fill the local guys in.”

“Okay.”

“Then I have to get back to my family.”

Cait blinked at him. “You...what? No. I need you here, Detective. I can’t keep all these people safe by myself. Not without Finn. I need your help.”

He went silent, looked at me, and I looked right back at him. I didn’t really see how he could refuse the poor woman when she was practically begging, clearly grieving, and terrified, to boot. I said, “We’ll stay and help you, Cait.”

Mason shot me a look, but I told him, “It’ll be okay. Rosie can bring the family over to the lodge. It’ll give us more eyes watching over everyone, your mom and the boys will be under the same roof, and Josh will have his water slides back again. Win-win, right?”

He looked worried. But he didn’t say a word.

16

Saturday, December 23

I
t was a waiting game, and a tense one. Mason and one of the security staff took the Abominable out to the cabin to gather the family. I told him to have them bring extra clothes, because we might not get back there tonight, though I had every intention of returning myself to pick up Myrtle just as soon as I knew where things were going, not to mention where in the lodge they found room for us. She was fine by herself for a few hours as long as her food dish was full and her bed was warm.

While we waited for everyone to get there, Mason went off with Cait to talk to her security staff, and I stayed with Mason’s mother, who knew absolutely nothing about anything that had gone on, and Marlayna, who did. Marlayna looked pale and nervous, and Angela clearly knew something was being kept from her. I was kind of surprised she wasn’t demanding to know what. I would’ve been. But then, she wasn’t like me. She would rather be kept in the dark about the unpleasant stuff. She’d probably always been one of those “let the men handle it” sort of women.

Huh. No wonder she’s not a fan. I’m her polar opposite.

The gang arrived in the nick of time, saving me from having to figure out how to go on keeping her in the dark while still managing to reassure Marlayna. And since all Josh cared about was the water park, that was where we wound up. Splashing and sliding seemed inappropriate with poor Finnegan lying in the Security Shack getting cold, so I didn’t join in. Jeremy and Misty did, though, and it looked as if they were having the time of their lives in short order.

Good. It was doing them good to have a little fun. And I thought Jeremy was looking a bit better, too.

I ordered mounds of junk food for lunch, since Mason and I had missed breakfast thanks to our early morning wake-up call from Cait, and I was starving. Stacks of burgers and mounds of fries. The lodge served the ones with the coating on them, so they were extra fattening and extra delicious. Misty wrinkled her nose and asked for a salad. I told her a burger wouldn’t hurt her and might help her with her skiing. You know, make her heavy enough to actually slide downhill. Ha ha, she said, then went and got a salad.

Pretending things were fine was wearing on me.

At twelve-thirty Cait found us. By then the table was devoid of everything but empty plates, Angela had gone off in search of a drink of something stronger than hot cocoa, and Marlayna and Rosie had gone with her. Frankly, I thought Marlayna had already tipped a few that morning, but I didn’t blame her. She was trapped in the wilderness with a murderer, and she was scared.

It was just Marie and me at our little round table near the water slides, watching the kids splash and raise hell, when Cait and Mason joined us.

Cait didn’t even sit down. “Our guys got through. The roads are still blocked, but the police are coming in by helicopter. Another hour and they should be here.”

I sighed in relief. I don’t know why. I’d had
police
with me all week long, and it wasn’t like anyone who might be coming in was going to be better at his job than Mason Brown was. I guess the thought of backup, extra sets of eyes and hands and guns, was what felt so good. And knowing that this was almost over.

It was almost over, and we were all still alive.

Mason said, “They’re going to want a complete list of the guests when they arrive. We can’t have our guy avoiding them, if he’s here.”

“They’ll probably want the evidence we collected too, Mason,” I told him, thinking of my Secret Santa gift.

He met my eyes. “It’s still at the cabin.”

“Should we—”

“Not until they get here. We’re too close,” he said. “I’m not letting you or my family out of my sight until we have more hands on deck. Then we’ll go get everything.”

“Okay, so we have an hour to kill, then.” I sat back down in my spot. One more hour. One more hour and we would be home free.

* * *

The helicopter landed a few hundred yards from the lodge, but it was fully visible from the giant windows of the dining room. We knew the cops were coming via Cait’s men and their walkie-talkies, so we’d hustled the kids out of the water, gotten them dried off and dressed, and grabbed a table in the dining area off the lobby bar, instead of in the restaurant, because it was more centrally located.

Every guest who had been bitching about the lifts still being down at one in the afternoon on a sunny, bright December 23 was now at the window gaping at the band of men debarking from the chopper. Mason pulled on his coat, and he and Cait headed outside to meet them. Some of them wore overcoats that said POLICE across the back. Discreet they were not.

“What’s going on, Aunt Rache?” Misty asked as we stared out the window like everyone else in the place.

“I’ve been wondering that for several days now,” Angela said.

Marie looked scared. Maybe she was still afraid Jeremy was involved, and the sight of those cops would have been terrifying if that was the case. I put a hand on her arm and watched as Mason talked to the apparent head cop. And then two of the guys in the POLICE coats came trotting toward the lodge entrance. When they came in, they paused briefly at the desk, spoke to the girl on duty there, and then came straight to our table, near the windows. They were young. Barely out of braces, I thought, but rugged-looking, and deadly serious.

“Are you the Brown family?” one of them asked me. I guess I looked like the head of our little group.

“Sort of,” I said. “I’m Rachel de Luca, and this is my niece Misty. The rest are Browns, Marie, Angela, Jeremy and Joshua.” I didn’t bother introducing Rosie, who’d walked Marlayna over to the bar for another drink. Poor woman was barely holding it together.

“Officer Bennett,” he said. “This is Officer Johnson. We’re here to protect you.”

Just then the PA system carried the desk clerk’s voice far and wide. I looked across the lobby at her, and I thought she looked as scared as she sounded. “All lodge guests please report to the lobby immediately. Again, everyone is asked to please report to the lobby immediately in a calm and orderly manner.”

People were really muttering now, and we were definitely the center of attention, with the two cops flanking our table like we were A-list celebs and they were our bodyguards. One brave fellow the size of a linebacker got up from his table of seven and started to approach us, but Bennett put his hand on his gun, while Johnson strode right up to the guy to cut off his progress.

“Whoa, whoa, I just wanted to ask what’s going on,” the probably innocent guy said, backing away.

“Information will be forthcoming,” said Johnson. He might look young, but his uniform and his demeanor were clearly no-nonsense, and the other guy, who was twice his size, backed down fast.

I saw Mason leading a handful of the other cops, including the apparent boss, out to the Security Shack, while Cait and the rest of them entered the lodge. The elevators pinged, and more people came out. They were obeying the announcement, and the lobby, the lobby bar and the second-floor hallway that looked down over the lobby were all soon filled with guests waiting to hear what was going on.

Cait, with a cop in a trench coat that looked nowhere near warm enough, went to the front desk and took the microphone the clerk had been using earlier. She looked at the cop, and he gave her a nod.

She started talking. “During the storm, we had an incident here at the lodge. A crime was committed, and there is a chance that the perpetrator is still here. The police are here to protect you all until the road is cleared so that you can go home safely. Since that isn’t likely to be until later tonight, they will use the time to interview each of you.”

Now the muttering took a turn for the louder, and someone shouted, “What kind of crime?”

“Screw this, I’m leaving right now,” someone muttered from the depths of the crowd.

The trench coat cop, fifty-something and handsome enough to play a cop in a film, took the mike from Cait. “Quiet down, please,” he said. “I’m Lieutenant Mendosa, and I’m in charge here. You’re all perfectly safe, I can assure you of that. I’m also here to assure you that
no one
is going
anywhere
until the road is passable again and we’ve cleared you to leave. This is for your own protection.”

Cait snatched the mike back, and the surprised look the cop sent her was priceless. “You’re all going to get vouchers for a free stay to make up for this disastrous holiday. And no one will be billed for the past few days. I am so very sorry. And I promise, you’ll be able to leave tonight.”

“I’m calling my lawyer,” someone muttered, pulling out his cell phone.

“Don’t be a douchebag,” I said, and I said it at full volume. “And good luck, since the storm knocked out the local cell tower.”

He scowled at me, then quickly looked down at his phone. Then he did what everyone does when there are no bars showing—he held it up in the air and turned in a slow circle.

“Douchebag,” I muttered.

Mason came back inside stomping snow off his boots, and went over to speak briefly to Lt. Mendosa, then came to our table, nodded at the cops and looked at me. “I have to get that Secret Santa gift evidence out of the cabin and get it to the cops.”

“Not without me, you’re not.”

“I just want to lie down,” Marie said softly. “This has been too much, just too much.”

“You can use my room,” Angela said. “I intend to stay here and make good use of the bar.”

Marie stared at her boys. “I’m a little afraid to go up there alone.”

Jeremy looked at his mother, and I saw him man up. He was a good kid. He really was. “I’ll go up with you for a little while, Mom.”

“Me, too,” Josh said.

They all got up. The two cops looked to Mason for instructions, and Mason hesitated.

Rosie clapped him on the shoulder. “Have these two go on upstairs with Marie and the boys, Mace. I’ll keep an eye on your mother, Marlayna and Misty down here.”

That made sense, since Angela was even now at the bar with Marlayna, ordering more drinks. Misty was with them, drinking what I sincerely hoped was an ordinary soft drink.

“We won’t be long,” Mason said.

I grabbed my coat from the booth where we’d all been sitting. I’d stuffed my hat and gloves into the pockets, and my boots were still on my feet. On the way to the door, I veered left to the bar, swept Misty’s glass to my lips for a taste, then nodded in approval.

“Hell, Aunt Rache. Suspicious much?”

“Just making sure.”

Mason was looking grim, but that made him smile a little as his eyes met mine.

I zipped my coat, donned my hat and gloves, and we left. “We’re bringing Myrtle back with us,” I said. “And I don’t care who likes it. I hate her being out there all alone with a killer on the loose.”

I expected him to argue, but instead he said, “I don’t like it, either. I don’t think anyone will give you any trouble about it, though. This place is pet-friendly. Besides, with any luck we’ll be on the road home by the end of the day.” He stopped by a pair of snowmobiles, picked a helmet up from the seat of one of them and handed it to me.

“Can’t be soon enough for me,” I said, putting it on. Then I got on one machine, he got on the other and we were out of there.

* * *

“There’s my long-suffering pup-dog. Poor baby, all alone all morning.” I was on the floor, scratching Myrtle right in front of her ears, her favorite thing in all the world. “I’m gonna buy you a steak, princess. A big, extra-rare filet mignon. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

She wriggled her backside in delight, then whined a little and turned toward the door. “Yeah, I know. You must be about to burst. Come on.” I took her leash off the hook by the door and snapped it onto her collar. “Be right back, Mason.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.”

“Just grab the stuff. We won’t leave the backyard. Promise.” He nodded, and we headed outside.

It was beautiful today. You never would have known how utterly miserable it had been only hours before. The trees were still coated in snow, so everything looked dusted in confectioner’s sugar, but the brutal wind and dark skies had vanished. Nothing but baby blue now, and the sun as bright and yellow as I’d ever seen it, making the snow sparkle. Really sparkle, like a kindergarten class had been set loose with a few hundred tons of glitter.

Wow.

As was my habit, I didn’t lead Myrtle but let her lead me so long as she felt comfortable. She was very particular about where she chose to do her business, and I’d figured out early on that there was no point in trying to choose for her, and even less point in trying to rush her. She was on Myrtle time, and this decision was as important as any being made in...oh, I don’t know...say, the White House.

She sniffed and snuffled and pushed snow around with her head like a little plow, and eventually we wound up behind the cabin, near the edge of those woods in which we’d found poor Alan Douglas. I rubbed my arms and looked at Myrt. “Will you hurry up? I don’t like it out here.”

“Don’t worry,” Mason said from somewhere close but...high.

I looked up. He was looking down from one of the second-floor bedroom windows. “You haven’t been out of my sight for more than a second, Rache.”

I’m pretty sure I sent him the goofiest smile he’d ever seen, and I quickly lowered my head to hide it. I must’ve looked like a love-struck puppy, and that was just so not me.

Lately, girlfriend, it’s precisely you.

I know it is, Inner Bitch. I know it is. So do I fight it or just give in to it?

Do what feels best. Isn’t that what you preach to the masses?

Doesn’t mean I believe it.

Maybe it’s time to start. I mean, come on, Rachel. Don’t you ever wonder why the bullshit you write appeals to so many people all over the world? Don’t you ever wonder why so many of them write to you telling you how your books changed their lives? Saved their lives, sometimes? It’s obviously working for them, or they wouldn’t keep coming back for more.

I never really stopped to think about that.