"There are three bowls in the sink, three glasses on the counter!" Calvin growled. "I know Korbie and Britt were here with you." He strode to the sink, hastily inspecting the bowls with a swipe of his finger. "The food's moist. They were here recently. Where are they now?"
"Maybe I used all three bowls,” came Shaun's surly reply. Calvin hurled a glass at Shaun's head. He ducked, and the glass shattered against the wall behind him. When he faced Calvin again, he'd blanched slightly.
"Did you kill them?"Calvin's stride didn't break as he marched up to Shaun, aiming the gun at point-blank range. His voice shook with rage, but his gun hand remained steady. "Did you?"
Shaun fidgeted with his hands uneasily. "I'm not a killer,” he answered, in a tone far too guileless to be believable.
"No?" Calvin said in a soft, deadly voice. "I know you. I've seen you around. At Silver Dollar Cowboy Bar. You like to get girls really drunk and take their picture like some pervert."
I watched the play of emotion on Shaun's face. His artless act drained from it, replaced with fear. "I don't know what you saw, it wasn't me, I don't take pictures of girls, I don't even own a camera, I'm never up here in the mountains. . . ."
"What kind of perverted things do you do with the pictures?" Calvin demanded. "I saw you with that girl, the socialite who went missing. Maybe I should tell the cops."
"You've got the wrong guy,” Shaun stammered.
"Where's my sister? Where's Britt? Start talking or I will tell the cops!" Calvin was yelling now. "Did you take pictures of them? Did you think you could blackmail my family? Or post the pictures online to harass my sister? Or sell them?"
Shaun visibly swallowed. "No."
"I'm not going to ask again-where are the girls?"
"You have to believe me, we never meant no harm. We took them in 'cause they were stranded and we couldn't let them freeze with the storm blowing in-"
"We?"
"Me and my buddy, Ace. He was here when I went to sleep; he must have run off with her. It's him you want-"
"'Her'? Who's 'her'?"
"Britt. He took Britt. She was here with us. I think he had a thing for her, but I never touched her, I can swear on my mother's grave to that. Check the woods. Maybe he dragged her out, wanted some privacy. Go take a look."
"What about Korbie? Where's she?"
"Ace made me leave her at the cabin, before we hiked here. He said we didn't have enough supplies for both girls. I left her food and water, even though Ace told me not to. I made sure she'd be safe."
"You left my sister alone in a cabin?"Calvin demanded. "Which cabin?"
"A few miles from here. Sits far back from the road. Blue curtains in the windows. Lawn has turned to weeds. Nobody's been up for years."
"I know the one. The snowmobile out front-where's the key?" Shaun didn't answer right away, clearly reluctant to give up his recent windfall. "Don't know. It was parked out front when we arrived. It's not ours,” he said. "Looks like its rider ran out of gas and left it here. Doubt it's worth the trouble of trying to hot-wire."
Calvin leveled the gun at him. "Don't lie to me. Give me the key. Now."
"You wouldn't shoot me. They'd figure out it was you. Nobody's up in the mountains, not with this storm. Only you, me, Ace, and the girls."
"Don't worry, I won't leave anything for them to find." Calvin fired.
The staccato bursts pierced my ears, startling me. Behind me, Mason's body jerked forcefully-he was just as shocked. I had watched Shaun kill the game warden, I had watched pieces of human tissue spray the walls, but that had not prepared me for watching Calvin kill in cold blood.
It couldn't be happening. My mind groped through the madness, trying to find some way to justify Calvin's violence. Why hadn't he tied Shaun up and turned him over to the authorities? That he'd kill Shaun without any real evidence of Shaun's having hurt Korbie and me was unthinkable. Was he so worried about us he wasn't thinking clearly?
I had to get to Calvin. I had to reassure him I was alive, and calm him down. Together we could leave this horrible place.
More determinedly, I thrashed against Mason's hold. His fingers dug into my skin, but any pain floated just outside my awareness. The only thought pounding clearly in my mind was of reaching Calvin. I'm here! I screamed wildly at him in my mind. I'm right outside!
Inside, Calvin kicked Shaun's lifeless form, making sure he was dead. He searched his pockets. Calmly, he took the cash from Shaun's wallet, and the snowmobile key. His strode into the bedroom where Shaun had slept, reappearing a moment later with Shaun's gun, which he tucked into his belt. In a hurried exploration of the kitchen drawers, he found a Zippo lighter.
At first I didn't understand why he lit the living room curtains on fire. And then it came to me. Shaun had been right. The police would suspect Calvin of killing him. They might even suspect Calvin of the game warden's murder. He had to destroy the evidence.
Thick black smoke poured off the sofa, which Calvin had lit on fire next, and bright flames surged up the walls. I could not believe how quickly the fire caught. It rushed from one piece of furniture to the next, heavier smoke billowing to fill the room.
As Calvin strode toward the front door, Mason wrestled me into a dark corner of the porch. From our hiding spot, I heard Calvin's boots clap against the porch steps as he trotted down them.
He was leaving. Without me.
I wrenched from side to side, desperately trying to fight my way free, but Mason was too strong; his grip was steel. I couldn't run. I couldn't yell. My muffled screams were too low to be heard over the wind and crackle of the fire. Calvin was leaving. I had to stop him. I couldn't bear to stay with Mason another minute.
The snowmobile started with a rumble. In a matter of seconds, the drone of the engine faded into the distance.
Mason let go. I collapsed against the porch railing. I could feel my heart breaking, splintering into irreparable fragments. Pressing my face into my folded arms, I made a deep sound of agony. Tears streamed down my face. The nightmare was dragging me back, to a depth I had not known existed.
"Stay here,” Mason said urgently. "I'm going in for our gear." Pulling his coat up to protect his head, he darted through the open door. I could have run. At that moment, I could have raced for the trees. But I knew he would track me. And he had the gear. He was right: I wouldn't last long on my own.
Slowly, I backed my way down the porch steps, too much in shock that Calvin had left without me to be fully aware of the fire. In a haze, I watched the bright flames lick across the floor and sparks rain from the ceiling. The crackle and hiss of the fire had grown to a roar. Through the smoke, I caught fleeting glimpses of Mason thrusting whatever he could into our packs. Even from this distance, heat blasted through the doorway, drenching my face in sweat. Mason had to be sweltering.