Jayce scanned the room. “He was here.” He shook his head. “That’s so weird. I didn’t even see him leave. Although, I’ve been chatting with Kendra.”
Of course, Kendra. Had Devon slipped out the secret door into the passageway while Kendra had Jayce preoccupied? He needed to find Devon and, more importantly, Cassie.
“AAAAAAHHHH!”
He looked at his brother before bolting into the hall, Jayce’s footsteps tracking after him.
“She’s dead,” Savannah cried, mascara streaks down her face, doubling over, her arms wrapped around her waist, her body heaving with sobs.
“Who is?” he asked, his gaze scanning the hall.
“Amy,” she cried.
Kendra. “Did you see what happened?”
“No. There are only two stalls in there, so I was waiting out here. Kendra came out, so I went in and found Amy. Her throat slit. It had to be Kendra. She was the only one in there with Amy.”
“Where’s Kendra now?”
“I don’t know.” She hyperventilated, her words coming in spurts. “I rushed back in the hall, and ... she ... was ... gone.”
The passageway. He moved for the closest entrance into it when a snowmobile rumbled outside. His muscles coiled, his body freakishly frozen in place. “Cassie.” Gathering his momentum, he rushed outside.
A snowmobile raced by him and up the steep incline. Devon with Cassie draped over the front of his lap, his arms around her, steering. Was she unconscious? What had he done to her?
He rushed for the sheds.
“What are you doing?” Jayce asked, hurrying behind him.
“Going to see if there’s another snowmobile.”
“There is. I saw an old one in the shed when I went to search out Brady’s crime scene. I was so distracted with that, I forgot to mention it.”
“It’s okay. Which shed? The first one?” That’s where Brady had been murdered, according to his brother.
“Yeah. It’s under the big gray tarp, but it might not run.”
“Then we’ll have to try and fix it.” He entered the dark, cold shed, his breath a white mist in the small shaft of his flashlight’s beam. He sat on the snowmobile and turned the key, which, shockingly, was still inside the lock, but no dice—probably why it was still there.
“Could be the spark plugs,” Jayce—their family mechanic—said. He checked the engine. “Yep. A spark plug is missing. Hang on, let me look through the tool drawers and shelves.”
Joel bounced his leg. “Come on. Come on.” He kept trying the key but to no avail. Devon was gaining too much ground at this rate.
“Found one,” Jayce said, rushing over. Connecting the spark plug, he stepped back. “Try it now.”
Joel turned the ignition, and it roared to life. “Thank you. Now move out of the way,” he said, angling for the door.
“You could freeze out there.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“I know, but how do you even know where they’re headed? I think the snow is falling too fast to follow the tracks.”
“He’s got to be heading above the avalanche. He’s going to try to race the ridge.”
“That’s suicide. What’s he thinking?”
“That he can get back to the lodge and his vehicle, I bet. I’ve got to catch him before he hits that ridge, or they both could die.”
