Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series

by Christopher Greyson

  10

  Superfan Club

  Alice tried to focus on the report of the National Transportation Safety Board that explained the effect a helicopter propeller had on nearby objects—known as prop wash. But the material was dry, and her thoughts kept drifting back to Detective Clark. Had he called the detective from Westfield yet? Had he found anything?

  She jumped at a knock on the apartment door. From the way Lady happily padded to the door, Alice could guess who it might be. Mrs. Stevens, their landlady, had fallen in love with the giant dog and she spoiled Lady rotten. She brought her treats, took her on walks, and volunteered to dog-sit. It was hard to believe there was ever a time when Mrs. Stevens and Jack didn’t get along, though Alice did remember that time… She and Jack were getting to know each other again—as adults—amid the confusion and pain of their first case together, the disappearance of Michelle, Chandler’s sister and their foster sister. Mrs. Stevens had displayed an excessive fondness for rules, while Jack had a violent allergic reaction to most rules. Thankfully, after Alice and Lady became tenants, too, and they moved into a bigger apartment in the building, Jack broke fewer rules, the need for his apology gifts became rare, and they had all grown genuinely fond of one another.

  Lady whined as Alice opened the door. Mrs. Stevens stood in the doorway with two plates covered in aluminum foil. Her bob of red hair bounced back and forth in synch with Lady’s tail. “There’s my baby. I’ve got a treat for you.” She looked up at Alice. “And something for you, too.”

  Mrs. Stevens walked into the kitchen, and Lady followed after, her whole rear end swaying back and forth. Mrs. Stevens placed one plate on the counter. “For you, Alice, there’s a plate of chicken, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. And for my sweet little girl”—she looked down at the giant King Shepherd, who returned her gaze adoringly—“chicken and pumpkin!” She pulled off the aluminum foil, revealing a heaping mound of mashed pumpkin topped with sliced chicken.

  Spoiled rotten, both of us!

  Lady sat on her haunches and let out a bark that shook the apartment’s thin walls.

  “Use your inside voice, Lady.” Mrs. Stevens smiled warmly and set the plate down by the kitchen counter.

  Alice’s ears were still ringing as Lady began to wolf down the food. “Thanks, Mrs. Stevens.”

  “Oh, I’m happy to do it. I was just making myself some lunch when I thought of Lady’s upset stomach. They say pumpkin’s great for that, and Lady loves it, so…” Her eyes widened as she spotted something on the counter. “You have a Planet Survival pen!” She picked it up and turned it over in her hand. “Don’t tell me you’re a fan, too!”

  Alice’s mind raced. Her researching the show was supposed to remain secret. She must have picked up the pen with the materials Brian had given her. “I sure am.”

  Mrs. Stevens clapped her hands together and did a bit of a happy dance. “I’m a superfan. We can watch the new shows together! I never miss an episode. Did you get the new knit hat? They sold out online in under two hours. I have the exclusive sweatshirt from last season. I’ll wear it next time I come over. I added a little lace around the collar to dress it up a bit.”

  “I’d love to see it.” Alice glanced at the bedroom door to make sure it was closed. She was using the bedroom as an office, and the last thing she needed was for this “superfan” to find out she was investigating her favorite show.

  Lady noisily lapped up the pumpkin, scooting the plate across the floor.

  “I can’t wait for the continued season,” Mrs. Stevens said. “I read on the PS forum that they’re taping it right now! My money’s on Frida.”

  “Frida? The German climber?”

  “Yes, she’s amazing. Fearless. And she’s been climbing her whole life. Her parents own a lodge in the Alps. She’ll win, I just know it.” Mrs. Stevens set the pen back on the counter. “If they had just listened to her… who knows.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know… with the accident? Frida was the only one looking in the right place for that poor man.”

  “Back up. How do you know this?”

  “The TV special. You saw it, didn’t you? When they announced that the show was going on hiatus, they ran a special on the accident. I recorded it.”

  Alice didn’t want to tell her that sitting on a hard drive in the next room was the raw footage of that special. She hadn’t reviewed the video yet; it was still on her to-do list. There were hours of footage to go through, in addition to all the research.

  She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. I’ll never be able to get through it all.

  “Oh, I have to go!” Mrs. Stevens threw her chubby hands in the air. “I’m baking a half dozen pies for my niece’s bake sale. Let me know if you want to watch the special. I’m so excited about the show’s return, I’m going to binge-watch the first part of this season again. We could have our own little superfan club!” She gave a little wave over her shoulder and hurried out.

  Alice stood staring at the closed door.

  I do need help going through all that footage…

  Her phone beeped, and a new email notification appeared in the middle of the screen. It was Brian, getting back to her about the helicopter pilot, Mack Carson. It contained an attachment, which she looked at first: McAlister Insurance’s letter to Planet Survival notifying them of nonrenewal of their helicopter policy.

  Then she read the email. Most of it was uninteresting, but the last line…

  Alice’s legs began to shake. She wanted to call Jack and tell him to be extra careful, but she couldn’t. Not right now. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him during their prearranged phone call.

  She read the last line of the email again, and the uneasy feeling that had begun to form in her stomach grew.

  Mack Carson had been killed in an avalanche.

  11

  White Flash

  Jack trudged behind Abe and Ollie across the plane of snow. The blue sky had deepened in color but remained cloudless. It was hard to believe that a storm was brewing.

  They reached the edge of a snow-covered field that stretched out like a soft comforter. Jack inhaled the crisp mountain air and admired the winter splendor. He pictured Alice building a snowman and Lady tearing through the fresh snow. He tolerated winter; they loved it.

  Ollie grabbed Abe and spun him around. “Crouch down, beanpole, so I can open your pack.”

  Abe obediently squatted down. “Why do I have to lug them? You’re the one who has special training on this stuff. It’s your job to transport them.”

  Ollie opened Abe’s backpack, which was filled with bright orange and yellow boxes. “It’s my job to set them off, not carry them. And Leah put me in charge,” he added. Though Ollie had become slightly less obnoxious since Jack first arrived, there were still no visible cracks in the man’s world-class ego. It was not a quality Jack would have sought in a partner on any assignment, let alone a dangerous one, and he remained wary.

  “Here you go, Jack.” Ollie held out a neon-orange container the size of a tissue box.

  Jack took a giant step back.

  Ollie snickered. “Man up, Jumpin’ Jack.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Abe said. “You can bash that thing off a rock and it won’t go off. We used to toss them out of the helicopter.”

  “Yeah, when we had one. Lost the whirlybird due to budget cuts.” Ollie spat and wiped his mouth. “This show’s a ratings monster, yet all they do is cut back funding more and more each year.”

  “I thought you stopped using the helicopter because the pilot died on vacation.” Jack was careful not to mention the insurance policy not being renewed.

  Ollie’s eyes narrowed. “And where’d you hear that?”

  Not careful enough. Jack tipped his head to the side, pretending he was trying to remember. “One of the guys mentioned it when I asked how I was getting on set. I figured you used a helicopter, but he said you weren’t using
one for the rest of the season. I asked why and he said the pilot died.”

  “They could’ve hired another pilot,” Ollie said.

  “They can’t replace Mack,” said Abe.

  Ollie made a sour face. “Everyone’s replaceable. Hell, if they could save a buck, they’d replace all of us. They replaced Mack with a toy plane and they replaced Charlie with a broad.” He apparently didn’t have a high opinion of Bree—or maybe he just didn’t like that she took over from Charlie.

  “How’d the pilot die?” Jack asked.

  “The Zugspitze did him in,” said Abe.

  “That’s a mountain in Germany, right?”

  “Yeah,” said Abe. “Mack said it was calling to him, ‘Climb me, climb me.’ He talked about going for a long time. He was really looking forward to it. And then we had the break in filming, and he finally got his chance.” Abe cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “He got caught in an avalanche.”

  Mack Carson was killed in an avalanche?

  “You sure ask a lot of questions,” Ollie said. “This ain’t no quiz show. We’ve got work to do.” He tossed the avalanche charge at Jack, snapping him out of his trance.

  Jack caught the box and glared. “Talking beats standing around watching the snow melt.”

  Abe laughed and took the charge from Jack.

  “Let’s get this done, you pansies.” Ollie sneered. “I’ll do the first couple to show you how it’s done. Four should clear the whole field, and then we’ll set up for the contest.”

  “How do you set them off?” Jack asked.

  “Each one has its own remote code.” Ollie pulled out an electronic device the size of a large walkie-talkie with a display screen. “We dial a charge’s code into this remote, place the charge where we want it, press the button on the remote when we are ready, and ten minutes later—boom.”

  The three of them climbed atop a large, flat rock and surveyed the problem area. The snow all looked the same to Jack, but Ollie whistled.

  “That’s a disaster just waiting to happen. Well, it’s showtime, ladies.”

  Ollie read a number from the side of the charge, then punched it into the remote. Three beeps sounded from the charge, and a light on the side flashed bright green.

  “Green means it’s armed.” Ollie heaved the box across the snow. “Red means it’s countdown until it goes boom.”

  “Red means run,” Abe said.

  Jack nodded, taking in the critical information. Simple enough.

  Ollie started walking. “We’ll place four, spread across the area, then set a ten-minute countdown. There’s not much black powder in them, but you don’t need much to get the snow moving when it’s ready to go. We just gotta give it a little push.”

  “Harvey’s rigging a drone to plant them,” Abe said. “That’ll make it easy-peasy. Safer, too.”

  Jack pictured a drone flying overhead carrying an explosive, and it didn’t make him feel safer. He had seen plenty of machines break down in Iraq; the sand wreaked havoc with machinery. What would snow, ice, and bitter cold do? And if the drone did crash with explosives…

  “Did you know Mack was going climbing?” Abe asked Ollie, snapping Jack back to the conversation.

  Ollie shook his head. “He still owed me five hundred bucks. Lying sack of crap told me he didn’t have it, but he goes to climb the Zugspitze?”

  “Well, it was his dream climb,” Abe said.

  Jack wasn’t surprised Mack hadn’t shared his dream with Ollie.

  “He would have paid you back later,” Abe said, kicking at the snow.

  “Guess we’ll never know now, will we?” Ollie sneered.

  Jack heard a faint sound coming from Abe. He grabbed the tall man’s arm. “Hang on a sec, guys,” he said. “Listen.”

  The muffled electronic chirping sound was coming from inside Abe’s backpack.

  “Crouch down,” Jack ordered.

  “What are you doing?” Ollie snapped.

  Jack lifted the flap of the backpack and peered in.

  Dozens of red lights glowed on the devices inside.

  “Damn,” Jack muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Abe.

  Ollie saw the red glow coming from Abe’s backpack and swore.

  “Can you shut them off?” Jack asked.

  “Shut what off?” Abe’s voice had risen.

  Ollie pulled out the remote trigger and looked at it. “What the hell? The timer’s running.” He ripped off his glove and started wildly pushing buttons. “We’ve only got one minute.”

  “The charges are on? In my pack?” Abe shrieked. “GET ’EM OFF ME! GET ’EM OFF ME!” He started clawing at his backpack.

  Jack fought down his urge to run for cover. He grabbed Abe’s pack and pulled one strap loose, but Abe’s twisting and turning knocked his hands away.

  “The bloody thing won’t shut off!” Ollie shouted. He looked at Abe, his eyes wide, and shook his head. Then he turned and ran.

  “Get it off!” Abe slipped his other shoulder out of the shoulder strap, but the waist strap was still fastened. The pack tipped and hung down his long legs.

  Jack snapped open his utility knife, seized Abe’s belt, and sliced the pack off. Abe tumbled forward and fell face-first into the snow. Not two feet away, the charges’ lights cast a glow that turned the snow blood-red. The beeping seemed to grow louder. Jack knew that just one of these charges going off in his face could kill him; with a dozen going off at once… there’d be nothing left of him or Abe.

  He grabbed the backpack and pulled back his arm to fling it away, just as the sun crested the ridge and the sun’s reflection off the snow blinded him.

  White flash!

  For a moment the world froze and Jack was back in Iraq. He saw Chandler holding the little girl wearing the suicide vest. He knew his friend was about to die, and he was helpless to do anything except watch.

  The girl looked at Chandler and smiled. She thought he’d saved her life. But Chandler realized that she’d just killed her would-be savior. And Jack saw it. In that second, the last second of his life, Chandler knew he was about to die. And Chandler responded by doing what he always did: he thought of someone else. He looked at the girl in his arms and smiled.

  White flash!

  Jack blinked wildly, trying to see through the white-hot blaze of snow while the backpack buzzed like an angry hornets’ nest.

  “Throw it!” Abe screamed.

  Everything was moving in slow motion. How much time do I have? Jack fought down the panic tearing at him. He heaved the backpack as far as he could.

  “Get down!” Jack yelled.

  Abe’s eyes were wide and he was shaking.

  Jack tackled the lanky man and dragged him down into the snow just as a huge explosion shook the ground. Jack waited until the blast echoed off the rocks and then glanced over his shoulder to see a pillar of snow shooting high into the sky. Air rushed in and out of his lungs, and he forced himself to focus on that fact. He was breathing, he was alive. Sweat and melting snow ran down his face. His hand shook as he wiped his eyes.

  “You saved me. I can’t believe it. You saved me.” Abe was as pale as a ghost and babbling, clearly in shock.

  The sound of the explosion was still resounding off the mountain. To Jack, each echo was as loud as a starter’s pistol, and the sound was building to a thunderous roar, instead of dying down.

  Confused, Jack looked back at the column of snow, slowly drifting to the ground like an early-winter snowfall that brought with it the possibility of a snow day. But the rumble growing louder…? Jack had been around enough explosions to know that this wasn’t normal.

  Abe stopped babbling and cocked his head. His throat tight with fear, he whispered, “Avalanche.”

  Jack jumped to his feet and grabbed Abe’s arm. “Run!” Plumes of snow whipped through the air, and a dozen little birds scattered out of the trees, flying to the safety of the sky like shrapnel. Abe groaned as Jack yanked him forward.

/>   The two men plunged and bucked through the snow. Their boots broke through the thin crust of ice only to sink deep into the soft snow beneath. Ollie was far ahead; he reached the next ridge, then disappeared over it.

  The rush of snow above and behind them sounded like bowling balls rolling down the gutter, but a million times louder. The mountain shook. As he ran, Jack glanced back at what looked like fluffy white clouds on a warm summer’s day floating down the slope. But as those fluffy clouds reached the tree line, the trees shattered, snapped, and disappeared in the white wash.

  Jack pushed harder. “Faster!”

  The wave of snow fanned out as it bore down on them. With every step Jack took, the beast grew in size, reaching out for them. Abe tripped and pitched forward. He landed on his chest, his lanky legs arching over his back. The wall of snow billowed like a massive wave cresting over the rocks on a beach. The roar was deafening.

  Jack grabbed Abe, pulled him to his feet, and shoved him toward the ridge where they’d last seen Ollie. Moving sideways, away from the center of the force, was their only choice. Chunks of snow and ice pelted them. The ground beneath their feet shifted as they ran. Jack slammed into the rocks. With one hand, he grabbed stone, and with the other, he caught Abe’s jacket.

  “Climb!” he shouted, pushing Abe higher.

  Abe pulled himself on top of the rock and clung there.

  Snow slammed into Jack’s legs and pulled at him like an angry sea trying to drag him to its depths. The bright sun was blotted out as the wave of snow smashed into the rock and shot high into the air. His hands slipped on the rocks, and the snow sucked him down into it, up to his waist. Jack frantically kicked his legs and reached up for the rocky outcropping in an effort to free himself. Abe grabbed Jack’s jacket, and the two of them pulled with all their might. Their combined effort was enough to lift Jack up and out of danger.

  Beneath them, snow flowed like a river, but it was slowing.

  Gradually, the cloud of snow dissipated. It settled to the ground, and the sun gleamed off it once again. The white flash flared across the field, but this time Jack didn’t freeze. This time he threw his head back and roared.