Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series

by Christopher Greyson

  Abe stood in the doorway, a big grin on his long face. “Leah asked Ollie and me to check out a camera on the watchtower. Up for a tour? I’ve got a feeling you’ll like this.”

  “Sure.” Perfect for both his Planet Survival jobs, unofficial and official. “We’re not taping the contestants or anything?”

  “There’s a challenge in two days, so today and tomorrow are rest days for them. Harvey’s babysitting the contestants with remote cameras, making sure they don’t break any rules. Mostly it’ll be shots of them sleeping.”

  “Do we have time? There’s a meeting in an hour.”

  “Plenty of time. Leah pushed the meeting back and wants us to check out the camera. She said we can have the meeting when we’re done. Don’t forget your goggles.”

  Jack followed Abe down the hallway. He was surprised when they walked past the front door and continued down the opposite corridor toward the side exit.

  “Ollie’s meeting us out by the generator,” Abe explained.

  They stepped outside into a cement courtyard swept clean of snow. To their right, on a cement platform, sat a boxy generator. Stacked against the building to their left was a bunch of metal storage boxes and wooden pallets. At the opposite side of the courtyard stood three snowmobiles. Ollie sat perched on the center one, completely ignoring Leah’s no-smoking policy.

  “Sure took your sweet time.” He took a long drag and blew the smoke toward Jack. “Know how to ride?”

  Jack grinned. He loved snowmobiling. “Sure do.”

  “Great. If you can’t keep up, the blue and yellow trail leads there.” Ollie laughed and tossed his cigarette.

  Jack straddled one of the snowmobiles and turned it on. The deep hum of the powerful engine brought a smile to his face.

  Abe pointed down at a bulky backpack. “You’re supposed to carry the tools, Ollie.”

  “The gofer can do it.” Ollie cranked the throttle, drowning out his laughter, and drove away.

  “I’ve got it,” Jack said. He hopped off the snowmobile, swung the heavy backpack over his shoulders, and got back in the seat. He pulled his goggles down, gave Abe a thumbs-up, and shot forward. The front of the snowmobile lifted slightly, and Jack’s hands tightened on the grips.

  Ollie was already fifty yards ahead and pulling away fast. Jack fought the urge to race after him. He knew that was exactly what Ollie wanted him to do. The man was trying to get under Jack’s skin. But this was a job, and Jack was a professional.

  Ollie looked back and held up a hand. He was far enough away that Jack couldn’t see the finger he was raising, but he was pretty sure Ollie wasn’t giving him a thumbs-up.

  Jack clenched his jaw. Maybe he didn’t have to be entirely professional.

  The snowmobile roared as he tightened his grip on the throttle. The weight of the pack pulled him back in the seat, so he leaned forward and low. The rear tread of the snowmobile shredded the layer of ice covering the snow, kicking up a plume of white behind him.

  Alice had made Jack watch lots of video footage of the mountain before he left, but the pictures didn’t do it justice. It was breathtaking. He felt more like he was on another planet than a mountainside. He was a kid playing explorer, and he loved it. Some people hated the unknown, but the challenge of discovering its secrets fired Jack up. Had he been born five hundred years earlier, he would have headed straight for the nearest harbor and the fastest ship to take to the seas.

  The trail, marked by colored poles, ran in a wide arc, gradually sloping upward. Ollie was up ahead—Jack was catching up to him quickly—and Abe was far behind, riding with his back straight and his head up, looking like he was taking a leisurely ride and leaving the racing to Ollie and Jack.

  Ollie disappeared over a ridge, and as Jack crested it a few moments later, he saw Ollie parked and waiting for him.

  “So, you do know how to ride.” Ollie pointed at a tower atop a ridge rising in the distance. “It’s five hundred yards to the watchtower, mate. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I make it there first.”

  Jack was about to offer to double it, then reminded himself that he was on the job. “No thanks.”

  Ollie stared him down until Abe pulled up.

  “Why are we stopping?” Abe asked.

  “I offered the newbie a chance to make a few bucks, but you know what they say about those ex-Army guys. Or were you really in the Army? USO maybe?” Ollie laughed. “What about you, Abe? A hundred bucks says I’m the first person to the next tower.”

  Abe shook his head. “I like keeping my money.”

  “Tell you what, gofer,” said Ollie. “I thought you were shaking because it’s cold, not ’cause you’re scared. I’ll spot you a five-second head start and give you two-to-one odds.”

  A long list of reasons to keep his mouth shut ran through Jack’s mind, but he pushed his internal warnings aside. He looked at the marked, winding path up to the tower, and smiled. “Tell you what, Oliver. I’ll spot you a five-second head start. I’ll give you two hundred if you win. And if I win, only Abe gives me orders on this shoot. You’ll have to keep your big trap shut.”

  Abe whistled low, then snickered.

  Ollie broke a chunk of ice off his snowmobile and fired it at Abe’s head, but missed by two feet. “What are you, a sheila? Shut up.” He glared at Jack. “Deal.”

  “You’re going to take the head start?”

  “Bet’s a bet,” Ollie sneered.

  Abe shook his head. “This was a bad idea, my friend. Ollie can ride. You’re going to lose two hundred bucks, and he’s going to give you even more crap jobs.”

  “You can be sure I will,” Ollie said with a laugh. “Just time him, Abe.”

  Ollie waited until Abe took his glove off, pulled his jacket back to reveal a watch, and nodded.

  “Go!” Abe said.

  Ollie gunned it up the trail.

  Jack focused on the slope in front of him. The trail Ollie was taking looked like the safest way to go. But there was another path, off to the left, and it looked a lot faster—and definitely much riskier. There was a tricky patch of icy rock before he’d even get to the path, and then he’d have to make it up an even steeper incline, but if he could pull it off, it looked much more direct than Ollie’s route. The only question was whether he had the skills. It had been a long, long time since he’d been on a snowmobile.

  “Go!” Abe shouted.

  Jack revved the throttle. Horsepower ignited testosterone, which built deep in his gut and escaped his lips in a loud war whoop. He felt fully alive, and he loved it.

  He leaned low over the handlebars and raced for the first ridge. The moment of no return loomed. He cut hard to the left and headed directly for the rocky area covered in ice, swept clean of snow by the wind. The snowmobile shot up like a jet, metal scraping against rock like a banshee shrieking into battle.

  Jack fought the instinct to hit the brake. That would press the front end down and push the skis against the rocks—and that was the last thing he wanted. Instead he rode the throttle, revving the engine and pulling up on the handlebars to keep the front end up as much as possible. He slid sideways for twenty yards before the snow thickened once more. Jamming back the throttle, he added horsepower to momentum and chewed up the snow-packed slope.

  It was working. He let out another excited war cry as he rocketed upward.

  After a minute the snow cover grew increasingly difficult to navigate. The rear tread struggled for traction, caught, and bucked. Jack wrestled to hold on, leaning in toward the slope, trying to shift the center of gravity of the machine to the side of the tread so the metal could cut into the snow and find a grip.

  But it wasn’t enough. The tread was still slipping, and Jack was losing speed. He gunned the throttle and yanked hard on the handlebars. Metal clashed with ice, and the machine snarled like a beast and struggled up the slope.

  Giving it one last blast, Jack crested the ridge and gunned it straight for the tower. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Oll
ie thirty yards away on his right.

  Jack was almost to the base of the tower when he saw something shiny flash, something strung across the trail ahead of him.

  There was no time to think. He jammed on the brakes and pulled the snowmobile almost onto its side, stopping in a shower of snow just a couple of feet away from the thin metal cable stretched across the path—right where his neck would have been.

  Ollie’s snowmobile roared closer.

  “Stop!” Jack jumped off, waving his arms.

  Ollie leaned forward, trying to steer around Jack and win the race.

  “STOP!” Jack bellowed, stepping directly into his path.

  Ollie pinned the throttle back and Jack dove, slamming into Ollie, and both men crashed to the ground. Jack’s goggles were ripped off his head as he tumbled along the snow.

  Ollie’s snowmobile skidded forward a dozen yards before slowing to a stop.

  “Are you dodgy in the head?” Ollie yelled as he scrambled to his feet, yanking out his climbing ax and leveling it at Jack.

  Jack rolled his shoulder back, getting the kink out. “There’s a wire across the path.” He pointed as he picked his goggles off the ground. “It would’ve taken your head right off.”

  Ollie slowly walked forward and tapped his ax against the metal cable. Jack noticed that his other hand trembled as he rubbed his throat.

  They both turned around and blocked the way as Abe’s snowmobile thundered up.

  Abe skidded to a stop. “What happened? Who got here first? You two aren’t fighting, right?”

  “A guy-wire came loose from the tower.” Ollie followed the wire down to the tree it was stuck in. “Jack saw it hanging across the path.”

  “Oh, wow, he saved your life.”

  “You’re as much of a drama queen as Gavin. I would have seen it.” Ollie tugged angrily on the wire until it came free.

  “After it decapitated you.” Abe rolled his eyes. “Hey, it’s still connected to the footing.”

  “They went overkill on the guy-wires on this tower,” Ollie grumbled as he coiled the wire and set it down. “We can reconnect it later if Leah wants it hooked back up.”

  “But how’d it break free and end up in the tree?” Abe asked.

  Ollie shrugged. “Bad luck, I guess.”

  Jack didn’t say anything, but he wanted to know the answer to that question too. He didn’t believe in luck. Between the icicle at the lodge and now this, Jack was starting to believe the events were more than just happenstance.

  Abe’s smile returned. “Hey, Jack, looks like you won two hundred bucks. Is that why you saved his sorry butt?”

  Ollie stopped halfway to his snowmobile. “Have you lost your mind, too?” He gestured back down the slope. “His hot-dogging it could have cost the production a brand-new snowmobile!”

  Jack grinned. “Is that Australian for congratulations?”

  “You didn’t stick to the trail.”

  Jack shrugged. “That wasn’t part of the bet. It was about who could get to the tower first, and you had a head start. I’m sure Abe remembers the conversation.”

  Ollie ran his hands through his wiry hair and glared at Abe. “There’s no way he waited five seconds.”

  Jack started to answer, but Abe cut him off. “He waited and I timed it. He beat you fair and square. Don’t even think about trying to get out of the bet. You do, and I’ll tell everybody, you welcher.”

  Ollie pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Me, go back on a bet?” He shrugged. “What for? It’s not like I’m out anything.”

  Jack decided to extend an olive branch. “Look, we’re good. I know you’ve got a job to do, and so do I. I just don’t want you busting my chops the whole time I’m here. Where’d you learn to ride? And don’t tell me the Australian Defense Force.”

  Ollie actually cracked a smile. “I took a detail once in Germany. Baumholder. You?”

  “My father got me a snowmobile when I was twelve. I lived on it every winter until I could drive.”

  Ollie rolled his eyes. “I got hustled by a joey.”

  “It’s about time.” Abe laughed.

  “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Jack said. “I’m not just a pretty face.” All three men erupted in laughter.

  They spent the next half hour troubleshooting the camera on the tower. When they were done, Ollie lit a cigarette and waved Jack and Abe over.

  “Let’s give you the thirty-second bird’s-eye view, Jack.” He pointed back the way they had come. “That’s home base.”

  Jack could just make out the roof of the lodge in the distance.

  Ollie pointed in a different direction. “That huge tower over there? Between those two trees? That’s the weather station.”

  Jack peered at the tower covered in satellite dishes. “That thing’s huge.”

  “Five hundred feet,” Abe said. “We piggyback our radio and video feeds off it and then beam them back to home base.”

  “The guy at the station is a real nut job.” Ollie let smoke drift slowly out of his mouth. “Last year he freaked out when we set up a camera in one of the trees. He said we screwed up some mating zone for a thrush or something.”

  “Yeah, and you should have seen him about the snowmobiles,” Abe said. “He went totally bananas on Leah. Ask Harvey to show you the tape. I wanted him to put it on YouTube.”

  Ollie pointed at a path that ran alongside a steep cliff. “That’s the trail to Grandma’s House and Grandma’s Field.”

  Jack had seen the long, wide field in video footage a dozen times. “Grandma’s House” was the challenge they were getting ready to tape when Charlie died.

  “What’s the deal with using nursery rhymes for the names of the contests?” Jack asked.

  “That was some executive producer’s brilliant idea. Some stupid promo a fan won and now that’s how we roll. Each season, the contests all follow a theme.”

  “I kinda like it,” Abe said. “One week we did a contest called ‘Over the Hill and Through the Dale.’ All the contestants had to climb over a cliff and then race on snowmobiles.”

  “Tell me about Grandma’s House.”

  Ollie pointed with his cigarette. “We set up this ridiculous plywood German cottage that was Grandma’s House. It was just a façade but from a distance it looked pretty darn good. The contestants were supposed to rappel down a cliff and then cross an open stretch of field to reach it. Sounds easy, right? Except Ryan and Leah brought in a pack of Saint Bernards. You know, the huge rescue dogs? They would play the part of the wolves.”

  “It would have been so over-the-top,” Abe said. “I wish we hadn’t had to cancel it. They were going to have the contestants put on those big protective suits, the ones the attack dog trainers wear. Saint Bernards are too nice to attack someone, so they were going to put bags of dog treats on their waists. If a dog got to a contestant before they reached the cottage—that player got eliminated.”

  “No one would have made it,” Ollie said, shaking his head.

  “Guess we’ll never know,” Abe said.

  Because of the accident.

  Ollie flicked his cigarette. “The accident happened right when we started shooting. From now on, no more shooting in Grandma’s Field. Out of respect. You know about the accident?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, I heard. You guys were there?”

  “We don’t talk about it.” Ollie cast a warning glance Abe’s way.

  “Why not?”

  “Leah’s rules. Ask her. Anyway, there’s your tour. Now for the real reason we dragged you out here. You’re gonna help us set up for the event.” Ollie jabbed a finger at the slope leading to the cliff face. “That’s where the ‘Jack and Jill Slalom Challenge’ is happening, day after tomorrow.”

  “The contestants have to reach the top of the cliff, grab a pail, and bring it back down,” Abe explained.

  “But we have to make sure it’s safe for the contestants to get there. See that slope to the right of the hill?” Ollie po
inted. “The snow has built up too high on that ridge. There’s no way we can have an elimination contest with an avalanche hanging over everyone’s head. Have you ever seen an avalanche?”

  Jack shook his head.

  Abe’s long face paled and his eyes darkened. “It’s like something out of a nightmare. Seriously, it’s like the mountain comes alive, and it’s ticked off.”

  Ollie nodded. “If you even think you hear one—run.”

  Jack had seen video of avalanches, including the one here on the mountain that had killed Charlie, but still… he couldn’t deny that part of him wanted to see one live. Video was one thing, but it never came close to the actual experience. Ever.

  “If it doesn’t slide on its own by tomorrow morning, we’ll have to help it down,” Ollie said, looking off into the distance.

  “Help it down? How?” Jack asked.

  “Blast it down, mate.”

  8

  A Trail Gone Cold

  Kiku parked her red Lexus in front of a ranch house at the end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac.

  Alice removed her seat belt. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “You are most welcome.” Kiku zipped up her cropped leather jacket. Though they were on Alice’s mission, Kiku was in the driver’s seat, in more ways than one. “So, we have arrived at the house of Detective Clark, of whom Jack speaks so highly.” The seventy-year-old detective was a friend of Jack’s father, so Jack had known him since he was a boy. Alice had met him several times for dinner.

  Alice reached for the door handle as a big question flashed like a neon sign in her head: ARE YOU READY? She hadn’t fully realized until now that when she fell in love with Jack, she would have to open herself to him entirely, and that when he insisted they had to unlock the mysteries of her past, it would mean exposing herself to others, asking for help, and stirring up nightmares. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so confused and yet so determined.

  Kiku put her hand on Alice’s wrist and tightened it. “Once we get out of this car, you will embark on a path I do not think you will be able to escape.”