Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series

by Christopher Greyson

  Alice had an honor code of her own. She had to press on. She needed answers, and she owed it to her family to find out what really happened to them.

  “I understand.” She took in one last deep breath of luxury vehicle and Kiku’s orchid-like perfume. “Do you want to wait here for me?”

  Kiku found this quite amusing—her laugh was high and bright and somewhat disconcerting as they both exited the car.

  The neighborhood was typical suburbia. Three men were out and about, and all of them stopped what they were doing to look over at Alice and Kiku. Alice thought at first it was because of the car—it was out of place in the modest neighborhood, or even in Darrington, for that matter—but then she realized they weren’t gawking at the flashy car. Or at her. Their eyes followed Kiku, her dark hair spilling around the white fur collar of her slim jacket, strutting down the walkway like it was a catwalk—head high, shoulders back, hips swaying—and raising the temperature all around.

  Alice rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a tall, silver-haired man in a button-down shirt and khakis. “Good morning, Alice.” His manner was controlled but his eyes were kind. He nodded politely to Kiku. “Ms. Inuzuka.”

  He only briefly scanned Kiku’s body. Alice wouldn’t have blamed him for looking longer, but Detective Clark was different, an old-school gentleman.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Detective Clark. Please call me Kiku.”

  “Derrick.” He stepped aside and held the door open.

  As they entered the gray-shingled house, Alice noticed Clark waving a hand dismissively at his neighbors, and then saw all three men giving Detective Clark a double thumbs-up.

  “Your neighborhood is charming,” Kiku said as she walked into the open living room.

  The home wasn’t exactly what Alice had expected. Given the house’s classic exterior, the style inside was surprisingly modern. Her eye followed the herringbone pattern in the wood floor through the airy, open kitchen and past the sliding glass door to a gorgeous winter view of a small river winding through woods behind the house. What wasn’t surprising was how neat and organized everything was; the detective was retired Army and law enforcement, so Alice had expected nothing less.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?” Clark’s deep voice rumbled.

  “Maybe later, thank you,” Kiku replied.

  She seemed to be studying the detective’s face, and Clark didn’t wilt under her gaze. In fact, he seemed to be studying her, too. Jack had taught Alice that watching someone was a lost art, and most people found it disarming. It was a technique he had learned from Detective Clark. Alice felt like she was watching two prizefighters sizing each other up.

  Finally, the detective held a hand toward the kitchen. A manila folder waited for them on the table, where they all took a seat.

  “Kiku, I understand you’re a private investigator.”

  “Yes. I am also a friend of your protégé, Jack Stratton.”

  “Protégé?”

  “His word, Detective.”

  “He thinks the world of you and he’d be here if he weren’t working,” Alice added, wishing Jack were sitting next to her.

  “I’ve known Jack since he was a kid, but I couldn’t find any information about you online.”

  Kiku smiled. “That’s a good thing. I consider myself a private investigator.”

  Clark chuckled, a deep rumble. “I haven’t heard it put like that before. But seriously, I’m not in the habit of helping people I don’t know.”

  Alice shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but Kiku seemed relaxed and poised. “You and I are both helping the same man.”

  “Actually, the favor is for me,” Alice said. “And Kiku is helping us.”

  Clark’s fingers drummed on the manila folder as he stared into Kiku’s dark eyes. Alice knew he’d sat across the table from people from all walks of life, many of them guilty criminals lying right to his face. His expression tightened and his eyes narrowed.

  Kiku said, “Nothing I say will convince you to assist me, except perhaps this: Jack trusts me, and he is asking you to do the same.”

  Clark nodded. His fingers stopped drumming, and he pushed the folder over to her. “I’m a bit old-fashioned, so I printed everything out. It’s not much. I also put the files on here for you.” He handed Alice a thumb drive.

  Alice exhaled. “Thank you, Detective Clark.”

  He nodded.

  “What is your opinion regarding the car accident?” Kiku asked.

  “My opinion?” Clark leaned back and ran a hand through his well-groomed gray hair. “Jack just asked me to organize the facts. I didn’t have anything to do with the initial investigation. It wasn’t in my jurisdiction.”

  “Organized facts lead to an opinion, do they not?” Kiku said.

  “They do.” His gray eyes darkened.

  Alice wondered how many dark scenes those eyes had studied. There seemed to be a sadness in their depths.

  Kiku waited and Alice held her breath.

  Clark shrugged. “My opinion is, you should be looking into it. Someone should.”

  “Why?” Alice asked with trepidation.

  “A few reasons. The first is simple: the case wasn’t solved. I don’t like open cases and unanswered questions. But it’s not just who was driving the stolen truck that bothers me. The case was assigned to Joe McLean—he’s a detective over in Westford—but there was nothing in his report beside the initial findings. He did the preliminaries, and then… there’s nothing after that.”

  “Nothing?” Alice asked in disbelief. “My whole family was killed. There had to be some sort of follow-up.” She tapped the thin folder. “Are you telling me this is all the information?”

  “I mean exactly that. There’s only his initial report. It could just be a computer foul-up or misfiling. I already put a call in to Joe—I know him from a while back. I’ll talk to him, get his read on it, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Well, thank you, Detective.” Alice cleared her throat in an attempt to regroup and hide her frustration. “I appreciate your help.”

  “Anything for Jack. And for you, Alice. Congratulations again on your engagement. You couldn’t have chosen a nicer family to join. The Strattons are good people.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly.”

  The interview seemed to be over, as Clark got up, still studying Kiku closely, and wished them good luck.

  Alice and Kiku said their goodbyes and headed back to the car. The gray sky had darkened, and it felt colder now. Kiku met Alice’s eyes.

  “Do you trust him?” she asked.

  Though Alice had hoped for more from Clark, he’d shown her the trail into the unknown, and she had to take the first step. She nodded firmly.

  “Why?”

  “Because Jack does.”

  9

  All Charged Up

  Jack shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He’d gotten up before everyone else and was pleasantly surprised that there’d been hot water. His sore shoulder and bruised calf were both reminders to stay on guard. Especially given that Leah, the only other person on this mountain who had full disclosure, did not share Jack’s opinion about the severity of the situation.

  He stood on the cold tiles and pulled a towel from a hook on the wall. He had a penchant for long, hot showers—a simple luxury he truly enjoyed after his days of quickie showers in foster care at Aunt Haddie’s and many missed showers in the Army—but today he needed the heat to ease his sore muscles, and knowing that outside was all ice and snow made it feel twice as good. Jack whistled as he dried his mop of dark hair and stepped toward the sinks. All the heat was driven right out of his body and he saw his eyes widen at the message that the steam revealed in the foggy mirror.

  YOU’RE DEAD

  “You need to pull the security footage and see who wrote the message on the mirror.” Jack stood in Leah’s room, his hair still wet and his shirt clinging to his back.

  “We don’t have camera
s in the bathroom.”

  “Then pull the footage from outside the bathroom.”

  Leah crossed her arms and glared at the floor.

  “You have security cameras inside the lodge, right?” Jack did his best to keep his voice low.

  “No, we don’t have any cameras inside the lodge. The contestants aren’t allowed inside the lodge, so they weren’t needed.”

  “This isn’t about film footage for the show,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “You’ve had direct threats against the crew. You told Brian there were—”

  “There were security cameras inside the lodge at that time,” Leah fired back unapologetically. “I didn’t lie to Brian. I just didn’t inform him of my decision to utilize the cameras elsewhere. I have a show to run.”

  “You have a crew to protect.”

  “That’s your job.” Leah jabbed a finger at his chest.

  “That is our job, Leah. Do you really need to be reminded that we’re on the same team?”

  Dark eyes blazed at him.

  “We need to work together. The risk level has gone from yellow to red. That note on the mirror wasn’t a prank, okay? Whoever is making threats isn’t just on the mountain, they’re close—dangerously close. The notes, the icicle, the guy-wire… you have to admit that things have gone from bad to worse. This time they came inside the lodge.” Jack pointed at the floor for emphasis.

  “Those were accidents. The guy-wire came loose in the wind. It’s a portable tower and the wind up here is fierce. I agree that the note on the mirror looks like another threat, but killer icicles and decapitating wires? Now, that’s some must-see television.” She turned away, unable to hide her scorn.

  Was Leah trying to make light of the situation to avoid cancellation of the insurance policy and keep the show filming, or did she really not fathom what was going on around her?

  “There is an undeniable and present danger posed by the notes alone. You need to inform the cast and crew.” But even Jack’s best detective voice—clear, concise, and authoritative—had little effect.

  “They’re all aware of the threats, but I’ll tell them there’ve been more. But I do it my way. One-on-one. I don’t need everyone running around afraid.”

  Jack ran a hand through his damp hair. “I don’t think you get it. These threats are following an escalation pattern. Whoever is making them is getting bolder, and that means they’re more likely to act, if they haven’t already. This guy is getting the nerve up to do something. Everyone should be afraid.”

  The crew had gathered in the lodge’s main hall. Ollie and Abe were on a couch with Bree. Abe introduced Jack to Harvey, the control room operator, a chubby man who filled up a big leather chair, his feet on a matching leather footstool; he was tapping away on an iPad.

  “Why isn’t Gavin here?” Jack whispered to Abe. “Shouldn’t the host be present for the planning meetings?”

  “His Highness can’t be bothered with lowly production meetings,” Abe joked.

  Bree chuckled and gave him an elbow in the ribs. “Careful.”

  “That’s another rule.” Abe bumped Bree’s shoulder but looked at Jack. “Don’t say anything about the king or it’s off with your head.” He drew a finger across his throat for emphasis.

  “And they dock your pay,” Bree added.

  “Speaking of losing your head,” Abe said, “Leah wants us to replace that guy-wire tomorrow.”

  Jack nodded.

  Leah walked to the front of the room and clapped for attention. “Listen up, everyone. I’m not saying this twice. By now you’ve all met Jack Stratton. He’s a local climber who’s serving as our new gofer. Don’t take advantage of Jack or I’ll send you rolling off this mountain myself.” Her eyes traveled around the faces in the room but stopped on Ollie. “I mean it.”

  Ollie shrugged.

  “Tomorrow’s the slalom cliff climb, affectionately dubbed the ‘Jack and Jill Slalom Challenge.’ In the morning, we’re shooting the opening.”

  “There’s been a slight change in plans.” This from a man coming down the stairs in jeans, a red T-shirt, and a backward-facing baseball hat. “A couple of slight changes, actually.” He held his index finger and thumb close together and smiled sheepishly.

  Leah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Ryan, you promised this morning that everything was set in stone. It’s too late—”

  “See, I ran those changes by Gavin, and he thinks—”

  Leah slapped her hand against her thigh. “Gavin’s the host, not the director. I thought that was your job.”

  “It is, but—”

  “But nothing, Ryan. We agreed on the opening.”

  Harvey lowered his iPad. “Let’s hear him out.”

  Ryan smiled smugly and made a motion like someone shooting a gun as he winked at Harvey.

  Leah crossed her arms and waited.

  “So, instead of starting the show with the memorial—”

  Bree leapt to her feet. “You’re not cutting Charlie’s memorial!”

  “That’s crap,” Abe chimed in.

  “I’m not cutting it,” Ryan said. “I just thought of a better segue. We open with Gavin—”

  “No more Gavin stunts,” said Leah.

  “It’s not a stunt.” Ryan moved to the center of the room. “It’s more of a dramatic walk-on, with the drama coming from a drone shot. Picture this: the drone sweeps over the jagged peak of Mount Minuit. Rising higher and higher, it clears the crest and then zooms down until it locks on a close-up of Gavin. He’ll lead into the tribute for Charlie, and after a minute we’ll fade into the behind-the-scenes shots of Charlie. It’s brilliant.”

  Ollie laughed. “It’s just more face time for Gavin.”

  “Fine.” Leah waved a dismissive hand. “But nothing more than a walk-on.”

  Ryan grinned. “Agreed. Trust me. It’ll be powerful.” He turned to Bree and added, “And moving. It will honor Charlie, I promise.”

  “We’ve got one problem.” Ollie picked at a fingernail. “There’s a bad snow ledge built up near the contest slope. We need to clear it first.”

  “Great,” Leah muttered. “How long will that take?”

  “We have to place the charges by hand,” Ollie said. “But it’s a short hike. An hour, tops.”

  Leah checked her watch. “All right. We’ll set up the gates for the slalom afterward, so you’ll need to go now. Take Abe and Jack with you.”

  Ollie looked over at Jack and grinned. “Hope you like explosives, ’cause we’re going to have a blast. Get it, gofer?”

  The meeting broke up, and Leah waved Jack over. “Before you say anything, I’m going to fill the crew in on the new threats, but one-on-one—not in a meeting like that, with all the drama queens.”

  “Do it today, Leah,” Jack said firmly.

  She sailed past Jack’s comment. “Come with me. There’ll be no time tonight for a call, so Brian agreed to switch it to this morning.”

  Jack followed her to her room, where she pulled out her sat phone to call Brian. Jack was surprised that Leah took the initiative to relate the new threats and the incidents with the icicle and guy-wire. The two of them spoke tersely for several minutes regarding the best way to proceed. Leah held her position that the notes were still just toothless threats meant to intimidate, and in the end, Brian agreed to stick to the original plan and let her keep her shooting schedule.

  Satisfied that she had won the argument, Leah covered the receiver and lowered her voice. “Okay, Jack. Touch base with your partner, but keep it quiet and brief.”

  Jack took the heavy phone. “Alice?”

  “Jack.” She said his name like she wanted to climb through the phone and curl up in his lap, and it made him smile. “You need to be careful. I don’t agree with Leah and Brian. I’ve got a feeling this guy is just getting started.”

  “Me too.” Jack walked over to the window so he didn’t have to see Leah drumming her fingers impatiently. “How are the background checks on th
e cast and crew coming?”

  “So far, no big red flags.” Alice ran down what details she had. “I heard some bad news about those storms and now I’m really worried.”

  “Did the meteorologists change the forecast?” They had a huge weather station on the mountain—did she know something they didn’t?

  “I ran into Mrs. Sawyer, and she said her hip is acting up, which means we’re going to get clobbered.”

  Jack rubbed his eyes, half amused, half worried. When he was a patrolman, Mrs. Sawyer’s joint pain was more reliable than any weather forecast. It had taken only a few times getting drenched in a surprise downpour for him to learn that if she said it was going to rain, he’d better pull out the foul-weather gear.

  “I’ll be fine.” Jack practically whispered so Leah would not hear him say, “Please make sure you go to the store and get what you need for you and Lady before everything is wiped out.”

  Leah twirled a finger. “Wrap it up.”

  “I’ve got to…” He trailed off. No matter how he tried to phrase it, he couldn’t figure out a way to tell Alice he was going to go start an avalanche. “I’ve got to go prep the challenge course.”

  His voice was way too upbeat and an uncomfortable silence grew on the other end of the line. She’d picked up on it for sure. He could picture her standing there, full lips pressed together, right eyebrow arched high in disbelief.

  “And there’s no call tonight,” Jack said quickly. “I’ll touch base with you tomorrow.”

  “I love you, Jack.” He glanced up at Leah. Alice had broken their rule that they were going to keep their relationship under wraps.

  “You, too.”

  “Don’t take any stupid risks up there,” she blurted out.

  “Okay, talk to you tomorrow.”

  Jack hung up the phone and stared out the window. Technically, he hadn’t lied. But he had a feeling Alice would disagree. To her, purposely starting an avalanche would almost certainly count as a stupid risk. His reflection stared back at him and he remembered the message on the mirror: YOU’RE DEAD.