Part 35 (2/2)

”Next time,” I said.

I planned to take the snowmobile much farther below than we'd gone previously. The more time it took for Wolfgang to march back up, the better.

I straddled the machine and started off. ”See you guys at the bottom.” I guided the snowmobile down, staying close to the trees. When I stopped, I could see neither Wolfgang nor Linda. I waited, watching for them to appear. Then, off on the far right side of the ridge, I spotted loose snow tumbling down, and my heart rate quickened. I searched for any sign of them, then glimpsed a speck, someone skiing down fast toward me.

Linda.

Still far up the mountain, she fell in a burst of snow. Faintly, I heard her calling to me. I turned back up the slope and raced toward her.

”Gwyn,” she gasped as I slid to a stop. ”We have to ... help him.” She pointed in the direction of the slide.

”Where? Show me.”

She tossed her skis and hopped on. I hit the accelerator and we leapt from the snow, charging across the slope. ”I told him not to go,” she shouted over the engine noise. ”He wouldn't listen. Oh G.o.d. Hurry, Gwyn. You know what's down there.”

I certainly did. And only a fool would venture close to that side of the ridge. Below the line of trees, where the snow acc.u.mulated in deep endless drifts, lay a set of cliffs that angled down, the first, a steep narrow step called, G.o.d's Hands, to catch the unwary before the mountainside plunged straight down toward the valley.

Loose snow slides were a frequent occurrence near the cliffs, but this was untended backcountry and nature made its own rules. The possibility always existed that an entire slab could tear off and break away. A few big avalanches had been reported over the years, along with the occasional casualty. The locals were aware and kept a respectful distance.

I slowed, glancing uneasily uphill before crossing the slide, but the snow appeared to have settled. I could see no sign of Wolfgang, his tracks obliterated. I clicked on my transceiver, crossed the compacted snow and continued moving in the direction indicated, closer to the cliff. I slowed again, checked the digital readout, the numbers dropping steadily.

Wind whipped and whistled high above us in the trees. ”Where is he?” Linda cried out, her voice shrill, competing with the wind. ”Wolfgang! Wolfgang!” I could feel her body quiver against me as she began to sob.

I drove closer to the edge of the cliff, following it down.

Up ahead, I glimpsed a small dark object sticking out of the snow. It looked as if it might be a gloved hand. Linda saw it too. ”What's that?”

I approached, holding my breath. But it was the tip of Wolfgang's ski, the remainder hidden beneath the snow.

”It's not him,” I said, ”only his ski, not according to my transceiver. Unless ...”

”Unless what?” Linda squealed in my ear.

”Wolfgang wasn't wearing his transceiver under his jacket like us. Maybe it got ripped off in the slide.”

”Oh G.o.d. I told him. Should we dig here? Should we?”

”The beacon says he's still up ahead of us. What do you want to do?”

She hesitated. ”Keep going ... I guess.”

The signal drew us closer to the periphery of the cliff.

”Take it to the edge,” Linda said.

I shook my head. ”No, we're already too close. It's not safe.”

”Take this thing to the edge so I can look down.”

”No.”

”Do it, Gwyn.” She made a grab for the accelerator.

I swiped her hand away. ”Are you crazy? Stop it.”

”Do it. Or I will.”

”No. Listen to me. He's not worth risking our lives. He murdered Kelly.”

”What?”

”He killed her. He did it.”

”No. No, he didn't. What are you talking about?”

”Linda, I have proof.”

I winced as her fingers dug deeply into my flesh. ”I don't care what kind of stupid proof you think you have. Now you get this thing moving. Do you understand me?”

”He was having s.e.x with her. I found photos.”

For an instant, she didn't say a word, and then her voice, low and cold at the back of my neck, murmured, ”That doesn't mean he killed her. Now you get this G.o.dd.a.m.n thing moving or I'll push you off and go find him myself.”

”Linda-don't do anything stupid. You'll kill us both.”

”Then don't make me.”

I continued inching forward, easing the snowmobile nearer the periphery. A slab of snow broke off and slid over the rim, cras.h.i.+ng down. ”That's it,” I said. ”We've got to stop. I don't know where the cliff ends.”

”Fine, stop here. I'll take a look.” She stood, hands on my shoulders, and peered over the precipice. ”I don't see anything. Keep going.”

A low groaning came from below us in the snowpack, a sound that sent chills streaking up my spine ... nothing human this sound, but a warning of rifts forming layers below. ”Sit down, Linda.”

I slowly guided the snowmobile along the edge, following the signal.

She called out again. ”Wolfgang. Do you hear me?”

Suddenly we both looked up, though at first I wasn't certain of what I'd heard.

”Over there.” She pointed.

We crept forward, and Linda stood again. ”Yes, I can see him.”

”Sit,” I said, standing myself and venturing a look. He was partly buried on the narrow ledge, mere inches from the vertical face. ”We can't go out there. The snow is too loose. It could let go, and we'll all go down with it.”

Wolfgang looked up at me. He shouted over the wind. ”My foot is caught. It's the ski. My leg is twisted. I can't get to it.”

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