Page 48 of Mountain Void

Don’t read more into it.

Lorenz nodded. “I need two minutes.”

Beau and Ry took a step back.

“We’ll wait downstairs.

“I look forward to seeing you again soon, Charlie.”

Then they were alone again. Lorenz squeezed Charlie’s shoulder gently, then let her go.

“I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to go.”

Charlie studied his face. She knew better than most how much he kept contained.

“It’s okay.” He’d often left her before, whether to go race, or off on a crazy adventure. She’d understood that side of him. It had never bothered her, because she knew he’d always come back to her.

Lorenz pulled a key from his keyring.

“Take this key. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done, okay?” He paused and lowered his voice, even though there was nobody there to overhear. “Tonight … we still need to talk, Chalie.”

Charlie sighed. Of course he’d want to talk more. Lorenz wasn’t the kind to hide things under the rug—that was more her style.

She’d thought she was healing. She’d thought she was putting the past behind her. But all she was doing was hiding from the truth. From what she’d hidden. So maybe talking would be good for them—even if it turned out to be the beginning of the end.

15

Lorenz

“Nothing,” Tristan said through clenched teeth. “All this time wasted.”

“Let’s do one more,” Beau said.

Lorenz blinked hard, resetting his focus. Beside him, Ry shifted slightly, doing the same. Across the cabin, Alex and Hugo kept their eyes moving in disciplined sweeps.

“Going in from the north side,” Tristan confirmed.

The light outside had a thin, colourless quality, the surrounding peaks washed in cold gray.

There was a dull thud-thud as a stronger gust of wind hit the belly of the helicopter, followed by a brief shudder through the frame. Tristan compensated almost before it registered, keeping the machine steady.

The missing hiker—fifty-five-year-old Gerard Lodain—had set out from the north side of the Chorde Corridor the previous day. His intent, according to his sister, who’d reported him missing when she'd woken up this morning and found his bed untouched, had been to cross all the way to Pormenaz.

It should have taken four hours, maybe less.

He’d been gone nearly twenty-four.

Lorenz focused his eyesight, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. A color contrast. Fresh rockfall scars. Unnatural lines across a slope, where a body might have fallen. Starting with the foreground and moving out into the distance, then back again.

Nothing.

The corridor was too sheltered. If Lodain was down there, they weren’t going to see him from up here.

Eventually, they found themselves flying over Pormenaz.

Lorenz blinked grit from his eyes, his jaw tightening.

“I can do one more,” Tristan offered.