Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series Read online

  “Thanks for the light,” Bree said, nodding toward the little lantern.

  “I’m worried about you guys, alone in here,” Leah said. “I don’t want you and Abe to be sitting ducks.”

  “We can stay connected.” Bree held up a walkie-talkie. “Harvey dug these out. I can lock the doors, and if someone tries to get in, I’ll call you guys for help.”

  Jack looked at the two doors. He regretted putting Abe in this room, because now he had to worry about two points of entry: the hallway and stairwell. “The locks on these doors are flimsy,” he said, frowning. “We should push the bureaus against the doors. That’ll keep you safe. Leah, can you help?”

  She nodded, and the two of them moved the bureaus toward the doors. Jack made Bree promise she would move the dressers in front of the doors after he left.

  Jack listened to the wild winds. He had never heard a storm make such ferocious noises before, and the acoustics of the bunker-like building only magnified them.

  Abe’s head rolled to the side, and he groaned. Leah looked up at Jack. “Is there nothing more we can do for him?”

  “There’s only one thing we can do: get him to a hospital. As soon as the weather clears up enough for me to make the trip, I’m going after the PLB again.”

  Abe drew in a ragged breath that wheezed across his teeth like the draft under the door. His eyes fluttered open and met Jack’s. Jack had seen that haunted look before. It was the look of someone waiting to die. Then his eyes closed again.

  Jack picked Abe’s wallet off the dresser and crouched down beside his bed. “Abe. Listen to me. Open your eyes.” Jack opened the wallet and held the photograph of Abe hugging Annabelle in front of Abe’s face. “You need to look, Abe. Look at Annabelle.”

  Abe’s eyelids rose slowly, and his eyes filled with tears.

  “A princess needs her father. Don’t give up. You need to fight. Fight for Annabelle’s sake.”

  Abe’s lips pulled back, and he shook his head. “We’re trapped. There’s no… no way off.” His voice was weak and raspy.

  Bree reached out and squeezed Abe’s hand. “Jack’s working on a way. He’ll figure out something.”

  Abe’s eyes met Jack’s again. The hopelessness was gone, but the desperation that replaced it made Jack’s stomach tighten like he’d taken a punch to the gut. “I promised her I’d come home.” Abe closed his eyes once more.

  “I’ll get help,” Jack said.

  Jack took one last look at the little girl clinging to her father’s neck.

  He was fighting to save two people now.

  43

  Ghosts

  Leah spoke into the walkie-talkie. “How you doing, Bree?”

  “I’m okay. Abe’s sleeping. His fever dropped a little, I think.”

  Jack walked over to the staircase and sat next to Leah on the steps. The sun had risen, but it was hard to tell through the ice-covered windows.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” Leah said.

  Bree yawned. “I will. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Leah clicked off the walkie-talkie and turned to Jack. “Is Ollie still pouting in the kitchen?”

  “Yeah. I think we’ll have to start rationing our food or he and Harvey are going to wipe out what’s left,” Jack joked. The lavishly provisioned show had a pantry full of supplies; running out of food was the least of his concerns.

  “I’d better go tell Ollie to behave.” Leah stood up and stretched. “He’s not that bad a guy, you know, once you get to know him.” She walked into the kitchen, then almost immediately stuck her head back out. “Jack! You’d better come in here.”

  He hurried into the kitchen. There was no sign of Ollie.

  “I told him not to go, but I couldn’t stop him!” Harvey was seated at a table surrounded by several empty bags of chips and cans of soda. He shook his head, his wild hair sticking out all over. “But he said he could kick Eric’s ass in his sleep.”

  “When did he leave?” Jack asked.

  “Maybe half an hour ago.” Harvey gulped some soda. “He’s searching the lodge. I couldn’t go with him. I’d be no help in a fight. I’ve never even thrown a punch.”

  Jack started for the door, but Leah grabbed his arm.

  “You can’t go chasing after Ollie and leave everyone else here at risk. He’s the one who took off on his own.” Leah squeezed his arm. “No one out in that room knows how to fight. If Eric shows up, who would stand up to him? Gavin? Chiri? Cornelius is wily but he’s not strong. You said it yourself, there’s strength and safety in numbers. Stay here, Jack. All we can hope is that Ollie doesn’t find Eric, and once he’s blown off some steam, that he gives up and comes back empty-handed.”

  The walkie-talkie on Leah’s belt clicked on. “Leah! Leah! Help!” Bree shrieked.

  Jack bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall. The corridor was empty, but he could hear crying from Abe’s room. Jack kicked the door just to the right of the doorknob, but with the bureau behind it, the door didn’t budge. “Bree! It’s Jack! Open up!”

  He heard the sound of wood scraping across the floor, and the door opened.

  Bree stood before him, cradling her head in her hands, her light-brown hair spilling around her face. The other door was partially open, blocked by the bureau, which had been shoved several inches away from the wall.

  Jack guided Bree to sit on the spare bed as Leah ran into the room behind him. Bree’s left eye was red and already swelling shut. Her nose was bleeding and her lip was cut.

  “What happened?”

  “I thought it was Ollie. He was asking for help. He sounded hurt.” Bree started to shake. “I know I shouldn’t have, but… I only pulled the bureau back just a few inches, and he punched me through the opening in the door and knocked me down. I think I twisted my ankle.” She flexed her foot and grimaced. “It caught under the bureau when I fell. He tried to shove the door open, but I kept pushing the bureau against it.” Tears streaked her splotchy face. “Then I grabbed my walkie-talkie and called you, and he just ran.”

  Leah wrapped her arms around Bree’s shoulders, and the battered girl broke down. She gulped in air as she sobbed, her small frame shaking with each deep breath.

  “Bree.” Jack placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Did you see who it was?”

  Bree squeezed her eyes closed.

  “Bree?” Leah’s voice was soft. “You said it sounded like Ollie. Was it him?”

  Bree shook her head.

  “Was it Eric?” Leah asked.

  Bree shook her head again. “I didn’t get a good look, but… I think it was Charlie.”

  44

  A Damsel in Distress

  The punishing wind blasted the rental car from all sides as Kiku drove along the wintry street. Her high beams illuminated the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire that surrounded the quarry. Concrete barriers set a foot behind the fence formed a formidable wall. Behind the fence and concrete, several construction vehicles loomed large in the darkness, covered in snow.

  Kiku stopped at the main gate, where a crude, thick metal bar blocked entry. On the left side, a call box was mounted midway up a pole. It wasn’t an intercom, just a big yellowed plastic button. Kiku held down the button for several seconds and waited, surprised that there were no motion-detecting lights or vicious dogs.

  Seventy-five yards away, a sliver of light appeared as someone opened the door to a trailer on the property. A shadow passed in front of the light. The snow shifted and danced in front of the door for a moment before it shut again.

  The construction site was plunged back into darkness. Kiku got out of the car and listened more than she tried to see. The wind howled, the cold stung her cheeks, and the faintest sound slowly grew louder; the sound of frozen gravel crunching under a layer of snow, as an unseen dog raced toward her and the fence.

  Kiku took a step back just before the huge Rottweiler flung its bulk against the fence. They do have a dog. The fence stretched like a fish
erman’s net with a big catch. Teeth bared and its eyes rolling back in its head, the dog chomped the air as it danced on its hind legs, eager to reach Kiku.

  The sliver of light appeared once again, and a larger shadow exited the trailer.

  Kiku made no move to try to calm the frenzied dog. One look at its frothing mouth and wild eyes reminded her of the more barbaric enforcers she had known in the past. Animals whose muscles control their actions and not their intellect.

  A stream of curses grew closer. A man trudged through the snow, trying to zip up a bulky winter jacket. He was willowy, with long arms and legs, and moved like a spider without grace. Gray hair pulled back into a greasy ponytail blew in the wind as the man shook his head and gaped at the beautiful woman standing on the other side of the gate. He was a dozen years older than the mug shot that accompanied the police report, but Kiku was certain he was Paul Miller.

  He stopped behind the barking dog and stared at her with bloodshot eyes. His fly was open.

  “Your car break down?” His voice rose with a longing that reinforced her sense of the type of man that stood before her. A type she thought of as human spiders—though that was unkind to spiders. The way the man dragged his yellowed top teeth over his lip and glanced back and forth between her and her car left little doubt. The man hoped that misfortune had befallen a woman and he could take advantage of the situation.

  Kiku, too, would take advantage of the situation. She would go along with his mistaken fantasy. She had no qualms about using deceit to get Paul alone with his guard down. Kiku used very different methods to Jack to get answers out of people.

  “I got a phone inside.” His eyes widened, and he fumbled in his jacket for the key to the gate.

  Kiku rounded her shoulders, dipped her chin, and tried to play the part of the damsel in distress.

  “I’ll let you use it. Warm in there, too.” He triumphantly yanked out the key, but then froze.

  Some predators have extremely strong survival instincts. Maybe somewhere inside, Paul Miller had sensed just how dangerous Kiku was.

  “I really appreciate it,” Kiku said meekly.

  Paul’s eyes darted up and down the street. “Why you out in this blizzard?”

  The dog’s claws raked the fence, and spit flew from its mouth. It hopped on its back legs, its wide jaws snapping shut with a loud clack.

  “I was visiting a friend and took a wrong turn, and my electrical system just shut out. It’s always bad in cold weather, I should have had it checked.” Kiku wrapped her arms around her chest and let her teeth chatter. “If I can use your phone, my girlfriend can pick me up.” She stepped closer and gave Paul a sheepish smile.

  Paul’s yellow teeth reappeared as his upper lip drew up. He eyed Kiku like she was filet mignon, but whatever perverted thoughts played out in his head were chased off by the dog’s vicious barking.

  Kiku realized her mistake too late to change course. She had been trying her best to look helpless and vulnerable, yet she had gotten so close to the snarling beast that its stink stung her nose. The chain-link fence separated them still, but most people wouldn’t even have dared approach a crazed, musclebound beast like this. Kiku’s action had shown that she didn’t fear the dog.

  And Paul had picked up on it.

  He took a step back and put his hands back in his pockets. “There’s a convenience store just down the road. They got a phone.” He jerked his head left, and his ponytail landed on his shoulder with a damp thwack. “Twenty-four-hour.” He turned and started walking away.

  “Hold on a second.” Kiku glared at the dog, who had stopped barking. “I passed that store. It’s two miles down the road.”

  Paul kept walking, but the wind blew his muttered words back to her as he made his way back to the warmth of the trailer. The words were nonsensical, but she understood the racist chant.

  Kiku’s canines flashed. In some way her anger burned hotter inward. The Neanderthal had made her, for the briefest moment, feel shame about who she was.

  She straightened up and tugged her gloves up tighter on her hands. She repeated the motion twice as she struggled with her own fantasy of pulling out her 9mm Beretta and shooting Paul in both kneecaps. She’d promised that she’d bring whoever was responsible for Alice’s family’s deaths back alive, but she’d made no such promise with regard to others. Still, Clark would be suspicious, and Jack wouldn’t approve.

  The trailer’s door opened, and Paul whistled for the dog. Kiku watched the beast run back into the darkness.

  Trying to play nice complicated things. It was not her style.

  Kiku walked back to her car, Paul’s racist chant dragging up memories that she’d thought she’d buried long ago… along with her elder sister.

  45

  Hide and Go Die

  Bree slept on one narrow bed, Abe on the other. Abe’s face was pale and sweaty, and his hair was plastered to his head, which occasionally lolled from side to side. His body shuddered from head to toe and he groaned.

  He’s getting worse, Jack thought.

  “It’s impossible, Jack,” Leah whispered. “Charlie’s dead.”

  “They recovered Charlie’s body, right?” Jack asked.

  “I was a pallbearer. It was an open-casket funeral. I saw him myself. I can assure you, Charlie Parker is dead.”

  “Well, someone hit Bree in the face hard enough to break her nose.” Jack crossed his arms. “And that same someone is hunting your crew, picking them off one by one. Ryan is dead. If we don’t get Abe to a doctor soon, he’s going to be dead, too. Ollie and Eric are missing. And you and I were nearly blown to bits. Who else has to die before you level with me and tell me what really happened last year?”

  Leah stiffened. “It was an accident.”

  Jack waited for her to continue. The depths of her secrecy were unfathomable and beyond frustrating.

  Someone in the hallway pounded on the door. “Leah!” Frida called out. “Cornelius is gone!”

  Jack yanked the door open. “Come in and tell us what happened.”

  “We thought Cornelius just went to the bathroom,” Frida explained, “but he was gone a long time, so Chiri went to check on him. His gear is gone, too.”

  Jack turned to Leah. “Stay here with Bree. Don’t let anyone in. Frida, could you stay here, too? I know it’s a little cramped, but—”

  Frida nodded. “Of course.”

  “Wait, Jack. Here.” Leah handed him her walkie-talkie. “I’ve got Bree’s. Just in case.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Jack left, he was glad to hear the bureau being pushed against the door behind him.

  He hurried into the great hall, and Gavin marched over. “I demand to know exactly what is going on.” He stopped in front of Jack and planted a hand on Jack’s chest.

  Jack ignored the gesture like it was nothing more than a mosquito landing on his arm. “You and me both, Gavin.”

  He looked around and, not seeing Chiri, was about to ask where he was when the front door opened and a blast of snow and wind shrieked across the room. Several empty potato chip bags scattered like frightened birds off the table, and the fire in the fireplace roared.

  Chiri shoved the door closed. “Cornelius isn’t in his tent outside.”

  “When are you going to untie me?” Wally wailed.

  “Shut up!” Jack snapped. “How long has he been gone?”

  “Half an hour.” Chiri made a face. “Maybe forty-five minutes.”

  “Did he say anything to anyone before he left?”

  “You could see he was starting to freak out.” Vicky picked up a deck of cards and started laying out a game of solitaire. “He seemed pretty paranoid. He thinks Eric wants him dead, and he knows Ollie hates him. He’s probably hiding in a closet somewhere.”

  “This is all Leah’s fault.” Gavin stomped over to the couch and stood beside Vicky. “Wait until—”

  “Sit down and shut up,” Jack barked.

  Gavin glared and thrust out
his chin, then flopped onto the couch, jostling Vicky.

  “Oh, my gosh, you are such a diva!” she said. “News flash, the cameras aren’t rolling! Do us all a favor and go powder your nose or something.” She swung her head, and her red hair splashed across Gavin’s equally red face.

  Gavin leapt to his feet.

  “I said sit down and shut up, and I meant it,” Jack ordered.

  Gavin sat swiftly—but more gently this time—and silently dropped his head into his hands.

  Jack looked around the room—at Gavin, Vicky, Chiri, Wally, and Harvey, who’d finally exited the kitchen. “Someone wants you dead, each and every one of you. If you run off like Ollie and Cornelius, you’re going to die. Everyone stays together, and we’ll all make it out of this mess alive. I’m going to find Cornelius.”

  “Wait a second,” Chiri said. “You just said that we shouldn’t split up. And now you’re going to go out and look for Cornelius alone?”

  Jack walked over to the wall, opened the fire extinguisher panel, and pulled out the ax. “Now I’ve got backup.”

  46

  Just Jack

  Jack stared down the hallway of the first floor. Triangles of dim light shone on the cement in various angles along the bottoms of the doors that were cracked open. His flashlight in one hand and the ax in the other, he moved room by room through the deserted lodge.

  He’d performed hundreds of breaches and clears; from cleaning out enemy buildings as a soldier to sweeping houses as a policeman. It was always stressful—opening a door when you had no idea what was waiting for you on the other side. Like playing Russian roulette. The room might be empty, or it might be full of armed assailants with their guns trained on the door. If it was rigged with explosives, opening the door one more millimeter would pull the trigger…