“I didn’t notice anything when we found him,” Larsen said, “and that was three or four inches ago.”
Tean gave a nod and got to his feet.
“No footprints,” Larsen said.“Not even from the staff member who found him.The snow was coming down too hard.”
Jem opened his mouth to ask something, but the question flew out of his head when he saw the camera tucked under the covered walkway.“What about that?”
Larsen shook his head.“They don’t work on the generators.”
“Well, fuck,” Jem said.“Are we wasting our time out here?”
Tean frowned, but finally he said, “I don’t know.”
“Who found him?”Jem asked.
“One of our room service staff,” Larsen said.“They were still delivering to the chalets—even though they’d been told not to—because some of the guests were offering big tips.She’s back at the lodge if you want to talk to her, but she’s not going to be able to tell you anything.She found him on the ground, ran to the closest chalet, and called it in.”
Jem blinked snow out of his eyes.“God.Okay, Tean?”
“I think we’ve done all we can here.We should collect some of the blood, at least.I’m not sure what more we can do without sieves or screens, and even then, I don’t know that we’d find anything.”
“I can bag it,” Larsen said.“Keep it frozen, right?”
Tean nodded.
“We need to talk to my mom,” Jem said.And then he said, “To Brigitte.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”Larsen asked.
Jem shook his head.
Clapping a hand to his hat against a stronger burst of wind, Larsen shouted, “I’ll be back at the lodge!Stay out of this weather!”
Jem hunkered down in his coat as the head of security waded off through the snow.The wind shifted, and he had to blink against the stinging grit.For a moment, in that darkness, the world tipped, like he was falling.
A hand caught his arm.
Tean called over the storm, “Jem?”
Jem shook his head.He blinked.His lashes were stiff, almost frozen.And then he said, “Come on,” and started toward the washed-out glow of the next security light.
12
The chalet’s door opened with the room key they’d taken from Gerald’s wallet.When Tean followed Jem inside, voices came from farther back.Adult voices, talking over each other in a way that wasn’t exactly argumentative, but wasn’t exactly comfortable either.The warm air smelled like burned coffee, and it made Tean’s glasses steam, but he didn’t miss the way Jem’s expression sharpened at the unexpected sounds.He followed Jem’s example, shedding his coat and stamping his feet before they made their way down the short hall.
The chalet’s main room was full of people.Five men, two women.All of them were White except for a man who had dark brown skin and whom Tean pegged as Latino.As Tean and Jem’s presence registered, the group fell silent and turned to stare, until only one of them—a skinny thirtysomething with a mousey brown mop top—was the only one still talking.
“And I’m saying we need to get our stories straight right now before anyone starts asking questions!”
A bead of snowmelt snaked its way down the side of Jem’s face.He brushed it away with his knuckles.His gaze didn’t leave the guy with the mop top.
“Who are you?”That was the Latino guy—square jaw, massive arms exposed by a tank, huge legs that the gray sweatpants only accentuated.
“This is a private residence—” Mop Top began.
“I’ll take care of this,” one of the other men said.He’d been sitting apart from the group in one of the armchairs, legs stretched out.Now he gathered himself and made his way over to Tean and Jem.He was a little taller than average, broad across the shoulders, with sandy hair and blue-gray eyes and a perfect smile—he’d definitely had braces.The cream-colored sweater and dark jeans looked expensive in an understated way.He reached for Jem’s hand first.“Stephen Anderson.Are you from the lodge?”
Tean started to shake his head, but Jem said easily, “Freelance, but currently contracted to the lodge.Jem Berger.This is my partner, Tean.”
