Part 29 (1/2)

She was alone.

Always alone.

Everything was so very quiet. Not even a bird was chirping. Only the wind roared in her ears.

She turned around. At the top of the hill, beyond the giant mechanism that moved the ski lift, the terrain was much gentler and heavily treed. She hadnt bothered to look at the map of the area when Jason and the others had been studying it so intently on their first day.

Was it only a week ago? Seemed like a lifetime ago.

It was a lifetime ago. Jasons lifetime.

He hadnt seemed all that surprised when shed led him to Ewans body beneath the tree. ”Figured someoned get the p.r.i.c.k some day,” hed said.

Even through her shock and guilt, Wendy had looked at her brother in surprise.

”I didnt like him much, you know, once we werent kids any longer. Ewan never gave a thought for anyone but himself. But he was my buddy, eh? My best buddy since Kindergarten.

”He raped a girl in high school. We were at a house party while the parents were on vacation. Ewan got her into a bedroom and raped her. I saw her when she came out of the room. Her clothes were ripped, her lip was cut, her cheek swollen. She was crying. Ewan stood in the doorway, zipping up his pants, laughing. He told her shed be making a fool of herself if she went to the cops. She was hammered and everyone knew she put it out for the whole football team. He saw me watching, and winked.”

Jason hadnt looked at his sister, just kept his eyes on the snow-covered body at his feet. ”I turned and walked away. I wasnt going to back her up, not against my friend. I should have.

”If Id told the cops what hed done, maybe he would have learned something and wouldnt have tried it with you.”

Jason thought Ewan had tried to rape her. If only he knew.

”Ill call the police,” she said.

”No. Theyll try to make it sound like you were responsible for this. Theyll say you led him on and killed him when he rejected you.”

Wendy hung her head and didnt look at her brother. The wind had s.h.i.+fted and snow was settling over Ewans body like a shroud.

”Look,” Jason said at last. ”I didnt help that girl, but I can help you. Ill dump him in the woods. Well say we havent seen him since last night. Theres nothing but wilderness around here. Itll be easy to hide a body. Theyll never find him, and if they do, whos to say some jealous boyfriend didnt get rid of him.”

And so Jason had carried Ewan to the SUV, while Wendy followed, arranging the snow to hide the imprint of Ewans body and their footsteps. Which hadnt really been necessary, the snow was falling so fast, and the wind blowing so hard across the open yard, every trace of their pa.s.sing was soon covered. Jason had difficulty getting the body into the SUV, but Ewan was slight and Jason strong. Wendy had thought someone would see them, come out, investigate. But it was Christmas Eve and people had better things to do than spy on the neighbors.

Shed killed Ewan. That she could live with, he deserved it. But shed killed Jason as well. The police said hed gone into the river minutes after midnight. Hed left her not long after ten oclock. He must have driven around, looking for a spot to dump the body, wondering if he was doing the right thing.

Theres nothing but wilderness around here, Jason had said. Yet hed come back to town, still with Ewan. Had he changed his mind and decided to take the body to the hospital?

If Wendy had faced the consequences of her actions, Jason would still be alive.

Theres nothing but wilderness around here.

She was past crying, past grieving. Time to do the right thing.

The area in front of her was roped off and signs warned skiers that this section was off-limits.

She ducked under the ropes.

Chapter Twenty-seven.

Molly Smith jumped off the chair lift. A thump beside her told her that her companion, a member of ski patrol named Gareth, was on his feet as well. A round, fat full moon hung in the western sky, bathing the snow in a milky-white glow.

The resorts security guards were posted at the bottom of the runs, waiting for Wendy to come down. Outdoor staff had been told to look out for the woman in yellow while doing their regular sweep.

”What now?” Gareth asked.

”She isnt a good skier. This hill is no place for her.” The official name of the major run was Black Powder, although the locals called it h.e.l.ls Vestibule, or just The Vestibule. Even the lesser runs that left from this spot were various degrees of challenging.

Other than the wind and the almost silent movement of the chair lift, all was quiet. A gust of wind lifted a breath of snow off a tree and tossed it into her face.

Smith skied to the top of the closest run and looked down. Impossible to distinguish one set of ski tracks from all the others that had been laid down during the day. She turned toward the out-of-bounds area. The traces of a few skis broke away from the ma.s.s of tracks, showing where people had walked to the edge to look at the view. Branches creaked and snow drifted off dark green needles.

A single line of skis, the snow on either side punctuated by the round imprint of poles, skirted the out-of-bounds signs and went under the rope. The tracks wobbled, looking as if theyd been laid by someone not too skillful, and snow hadnt begun to fill the depressions.

”Jerk,” Gareth said, and Smith started, thinking for a moment he was calling her names. ”Theres always someone too clever for his own good.” He pointed at the tracks. ”Theres a reason this area is posted. Its dangerous ground out there.”

”Shes got what, about a fifteen-twenty minute lead on us? Shes not a good skier, but this sections pretty flat. Whats it get like further in?”

”Heavily forested. Its never been used for a run, mostly because if you take a left theres a heck of a cliff.”

”Molly, you there?” Radio.

”Im here. Shes gone into the backcountry behind Black Powder.”

”Not good,” Stockdale said. ”That areas under an avalanche warning. Mountie with the dogs here.”

She let out a grateful puff of air. ”That was quick.”

”Says he was nearby. Hes getting a machine and coming up. Says for you to wait there.”

”Will do.”

Skiing wasnt so bad, once you got away from the crowds and the clumsy little kids and teenage show-offs. There was no groomed trail here, no tracks laid down by earlier skiers. There was a rough sort of path cutting through the trees, used by deer and elk perhaps, and it went down at a gentle angle. That wasnt so bad either, not like the terrifying drops Jason and Ewan seemed to think she could be goaded into trying.

Wendy had fallen in a pile of soft snow almost as soon as shed taken her first step past the boundary rope, and been afraid she wouldnt be able to keep on her feet long enough to disappear. Wouldnt that be embarra.s.sing: to flounder around up to her waist in a pile of snow, like a fish flipped into a boat, and be rescued by some stuck-up, know-it-all ski patroller.