I’d watched her all damn day. It was as if she was hobbled by her mere survival.
I wasn’t really sure how much she knew about his side of things, but I could only hope she was innocent. So far, she seemed totally in the dark.
I wondered if he had any inkling that the house of cards he’d created was about to be unveiled? Handcuffs or body bag, the outcome was a pendulum in motion at this stage. I asked no questions, only took orders.
The intel I’d managed to dig up on him equaled more than a mountain’s worth of paperwork. The stacks of files, the photos, a petty criminal record expunged by the judge at one point. His secrets weren’t buried as deep as he’d hoped.
I watched her toss and turn in bed before I turned away. I could only imagine him in his own haze of guilt as she fought sleep, none the wiser. I wished not for the first time that she’d never met him, no doubt in my mind that she wouldn’t have found herself in my sights otherwise.
Poor Freya, so vulnerable to the darkest sides of herself.
I hoped when his head hit the pillow each night, he thought of the pain he would soon be putting her through.
And I hoped it wouldn’t break her when she found out the truth.
“Welcome to my shit list, motherfucker.”
I’d watched her searching for the clues frantically, trying to piece together the facts in her own fogged mind. She was smart, but she only had half of the facts, just one side of the story.
I had the other piece of vital information that connected the entire intricate web. It’d been hard to find, taken me days of digging, but then one irrefutable piece of evidence had shown itself. One whisper thin piece of paper that had been buried for decades and brought the entire game into focus. I just wasn’t sure what would destroy her more, him or the secret.
Twenty-One
Whoever had lured me to the chalet did so with a purpose.
I was meant to find the photos. By the next morning, I’d become convinced of that much. As the moonlight shifted to the dull misty gray of morning, I hunted through the house like my life depended on it.
I covered the rooms and closets upstairs. I pulled the fuses on every electrical box I found as a means of privacy—I hoped the house was no longer watching, but I still couldn't be sure. Had someone from a remote location triggered the alarm yesterday as I drew nearer to finding something I wasn’t meant to? Or had it been a random glitch? I had the sense nothing was random anymore, despite my desperation to wish it so.
I huffed, realizing why they called this area Deception Gorge.The extreme elevation and isolation surrounded by jagged cliffs and embankments played tricks of the mind and shifted my perception.
Was Tav’s leaving the right thing to do? I didn’t know, but my muscles were drawn to the pantry anyway, assessing the shelves for items that I would take with me in a rucksack if I decided to trek out of here on my own.
How long could I wait? Would I find another bridge or a helpful neighbor?
I imagined shoving all of the cured meats into my pack and the box of protein bars Tav had brought that’d gone untouched.
Why hadn’t he taken them with him?
Was it a kind gesture, leaving them for me? Or had he not bothered taking anything to eat because he knew he’d be able to trek right off of this mountain?
Or worse, what if he hadn’t made it off the mountain at all?
What if he’d only made it as far as the burly mountain man that’d delivered provisions?
I gnashed my teeth together, mind whirling with the possibilities.
Was Tav my enemy?
Could I trust the neighbor that’d delivered early morning goods by snowshoe even if I could find him?
I thought of the tiny cabin in the valley, curls of woodsmoke against the blue sky. It was difficult to tell how far away he was—my perception from atop the mountain was thrown, but I calculated at least a half a day’s hike down the steepest ridge of the mountain if I angled directly for it.
I figured that was my best shot. My memory was hazy from our late night drive into the chalet, but I remembered at least half a dozen side roads and many more paths through the woods that may or may not lead to my nearest neighbor.
It could take me days trying to weave through the woods as I made my way off of this mountain by way of the road. My only option was to hike down to the valley and keep that cabin in my line of sight at all times.
And pray that when I arrived the inhabitants would be welcoming to a helpless stranger.
