Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series

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Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series Page 8

by Christopher Greyson


  12

  An Unlikely Assistant

  Seated across from Alice at the kitchen table, Mrs. Stevens held the Planet Survival pen in her hand and studied the NDA in front of her. “Why do I need to sign this again?”

  “I told you, Mrs. Stevens. I’m not allowed to tell you about the case unless you sign this nondisclosure agreement.”

  “But I won’t tell anyone. I swear.” She gave Alice the Girl Scout salute.

  “And that’s good enough for me,” Alice said. “But the client needs that oath to be legally binding.”

  Mrs. Stevens sighed, but she signed and initialed the NDA. “Done,” she announced. She tapped the pen against the table. “Now. What is this all about?”

  Alice smiled. “Jack and I got a new insurance case. I’m running background checks and reviewing footage. I set up the bedroom as an office. I’ll show you.”

  She walked over and opened the bedroom door. Mrs. Stevens stopped in the doorway, her eyes wide.

  Alice had shoved the bed into the corner to get more workable space, and the wall was covered floor to ceiling with pictures, printouts, and notes.

  “It looks like a serial killer lives here,” Mrs. Stevens said.

  “It’s easier to see the whole picture if I can see the whole picture.”

  Mrs. Stevens walked closer to the wall and suddenly clapped her hands like a little girl getting candy. “You’re investigating the avalanche on Planet Survival!”

  “Remember, this is totally hush-hush. No one can know about this.”

  “I won’t say a word.” She gave the Girl Scout salute again. The landlady’s broadening smile made Alice’s stomach tighten.

  Alice grimaced. “I know you won’t, because you signed a document that legally stipulates you can’t say one word.”

  “I understand. You explained the nonexposure agreement, and I promise—no exposure.”

  “Disclosure.”

  “What?”

  “Nondisclosure agreement. It means you could get sued for saying anything.”

  Mrs. Stevens clicked the pen several times and studied the wall. “Got it. My lips are sealed. Mum’s the word. I won’t repeat a single word, nothing, not one.”

  Alice sighed. Yikes, fifty words to tell me she isn’t going to use one. Not a good sign. This better not get me in the doghouse with Jack. “Okay, just making sure we’re clear here.”

  “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Planet Survival. It’s my very favorite show.”

  “I know, you’re a superfan. That’s why I hired you.”

  “I don’t care about the money. You can give me a dollar just for record-keeping. I’m glad to help.”

  “When do you want to start?”

  “Right this minute!” Mrs. Stevens moved along the wall, studying everything. “I can’t tell you anything about the crew, though. They only showed them on the special broadcast, and I didn’t meet them on the tour.”

  “Tour?”

  “The Planet Survival tour. It was right before the start of last season, and Mount Minuit is so close, I just had to go.”

  “You’ve been up on the mountain? That’s great!”

  “Oh, yes. I took a ton of pictures I can show you later. I don’t know the crew, but I can tell you everything about the cast. Let’s see. We already talked about Frida. These two”—she pointed the pen at a fiery redhead and a middle-aged man with a square jaw and buzz cut—“I don’t care for. The redhead, Vicky Hill, is aptly named for a mountain because she lets everyone climb her, if you know what I mean. First, she shacked up with George. He was an extreme skier from Colorado who got booted off in episode two. Three episodes later, she sneaks into Mr. Military’s tent.” She tapped the man with the buzz cut. “Eric Sanders. He tries to bully everyone. Yells, kicks snow, swears like a sailor. They’re the villains right now, and I think they both relish that role.”

  Alice had pulled out her notebook and was scribbling as quickly as Mrs. Stevens spoke. “You said earlier that they should have listened to Frida. Can you tell me more?”

  “Well, I don’t know for sure, but on the TV special they featured the attempted rescue. The poor crewman that was killed, Charlie, it turned out that his GPS locator thingy came off him in the accident. It was so sad. They didn’t know where he was under all that snow.” She shook her head and her eyes welled up with tears. “Poor man was buried alive.” Alice took her hand in hers.

  Mrs. Stevens took a deep breath. “Anyway, they didn’t know where to look for him, but Eric, the big bully, ran up yelling and told the crew to dig at this one spot, like he knew. Everyone but Ollie helped. Ollie’s one of the cameramen, but he had a broken arm. He broke it in the ‘Over the Hill and Through the Dale’ challenge. He was using one of those long poles to poke the snow, but he couldn’t dig with one arm.”

  Alice was nodding to keep Mrs. Stevens talking, but she could hardly keep up with the flow, and she had no idea whether any of it would be useful.

  “Like I was saying, they should have listened to Frida. She’s done avalanche search and rescue before, and she thought Charlie was trapped farther down the slope. But Chiri was the only one who listened to her, and they dug together. And of course, they were the ones who found poor Charlie. But by then it was too late. He was already dead.” Mrs. Stevens’ chin quivered.

  “That’s awful. I’m surprised they showed video of all this.” For the ratings, I’m sure. “Who’s Chiri?”

  “His name fits his personality perfectly. Cheery. A small man, just adorable, happy-go-lucky. Always smiling. He’s a great climber, a Sherpa, but he speaks perfect English because he’s lived in the States for a long time—in LA, if you can believe it!”

  Alice smiled at Mrs. Stevens’ enthusiasm and thoroughness. “So all the contestants were on the scene?” Alice asked, still taking notes.

  “All except Cornelius.” Mrs. Stevens pointed to a picture of a man who looked like a homeless Grizzly Adams. His skin was dark and leathery, and his gray hair and beard shot out in all directions. “Nutty old mountain man plucked straight out of Appalachia. He said he was on the other side of the mountain and didn’t hear a thing.”

  Mrs. Stevens’ phone beeped, and she jumped. “Another pie!” She headed for the door. “I only have one more pie shift. I promise I’ll come right back up. Maybe I can help look at some videos. If you tell me what to keep an eye out for, I’ll spot it.” She winked and hurried out.

  Alice turned back to the wall of photos and notes. Mrs. Stevens was incredibly observant and in a short time had brought personalities and stories to life, saving Alice valuable time. But there were hours of video footage to go through. Even with Mrs. Stevens’ help, every minute that went by made Alice imagine all the risks and dangers Jack was exposed to on the mountain.

  Nonexposure agreement. If only there were such a thing.

  What she needed was the cheer of work and Mrs. Stevens’ bright chatter and a warm cup of tea, but instead, almost against her own will, she walked to the living room and looked out the window toward the massive peak hidden in the overcast sky. She touched the window’s glass, trying to feel the reflections of the snowflakes whirling and drifting by. She wasn’t fooled by those sweet little flakes.

  The thick gray clouds and everything in that space between her and Jack brought a foreboding sense that a snowstorm wasn’t the worst danger Jack faced on Mount Minuit.

  13

  Weather Jackpot

  Leah charged out of the lodge like a rodeo bull from its gate and headed straight for Jack, Ollie, and Abe.

  “What kind of idiotic stunt did you pull this time, Oliver?”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Ollie snapped.

  Leah stepped in front of him and stood in a power pose, hands on hips and feet planted wide. The Australian had four inches on her, but her fierce warrior glare made him stop in his tracks. “I put you in charge, so if something goes wrong, it is your fault. And something definitely went wrong up there—the whole m
ountain shook! What happened?”

  “He almost blew me up and then ran away, that’s what happened!” Abe said with a mix of anger and disbelief.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Ollie snapped. “Hug you so we could die together?”

  “Both of you shut up.” Leah turned to Jack. “You. What happened?”

  “What are you asking the greenie for?” Ollie said. “The equipment malfunctioned, that’s all.”

  “Shut up now or I’m docking your pay.” Leah’s voice had dropped to a normal level, but her eyes still blazed. She pointed at Abe and Ollie. “You two. Inside.”

  Still bickering and shoving each other, the two men trudged into the lodge.

  “Talk,” Leah said.

  Jack was used to giving reports, and almost unconsciously stood at parade rest: chest up, feet shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind his back. “We reached the ridge where we were supposed to set the charges. Ollie set the first charge and tossed it onto the snow field. We were walking to place the other charges when suddenly the ones that were still in Abe’s pack started beeping. They were all armed, and Ollie couldn’t disarm the charges using the remote. I had to cut Abe’s backpack off him and throw it. The resulting explosion caused an avalanche.” He had to distance himself from it now; he’d deal with the flashbacks later.

  Leah studied Jack’s face. He was used to this method of extracting information: waiting. Everyone from drill sergeants to therapists and police chiefs used it, but Jack could wait anyone out. The hardest part about it was trying not to smile. Besides, he wasn’t here to answer Leah’s questions. He was here to see if there was a threat to the cast or crew, and clearly there was. Right now, he wanted Leah to do the talking.

  “Did Ollie run away?”

  “When he was unable to shut off the charges, yes, he ran.”

  Leah folded her arms. “Then he’s fired.”

  “You can’t fire a guy for running away from a bomb.”

  “His coworker was wearing the bomb.”

  The words hit Jack hard, and he struggled to hold his memories at bay. “Ollie did try to shut them off first. Then he panicked.”

  Leah’s fathomless brown eyes narrowed. “Every person who works on this crew knows that the first requirement is to have each other’s back. If he ran away, that makes him a coward.”

  “In my opinion, it makes him human. But it’s your crew. Anyway, the question you should be asking is, how could all of those charges get set to go off at once?”

  Leah shook her head. “They can’t. You have to enter the code for each charge. I was told it was impossible for them all to go off at the same time. That’s one of the reasons we use that product.”

  “Who on the crew is the most knowledgeable about the charges and that remote?”

  “Ollie.”

  “Well, then, you definitely can’t fire him yet. We need to keep an eye on him while we get to the bottom of this explosion. I’ll need to send that remote down to Alice so she can have it analyzed.”

  She shook her head. “Ollie stays, but that’s needed equipment.”

  “You really plan on using it again after what just happened?”

  Leah scowled. “Fine, I’ll send Harvey to get another one.” Almost as an afterthought, she asked, “Are you all right?”

  Jack drew in a halting breath without truly assessing his feelings. He was sore from falling and running and climbing, and there were a few scrapes from ice, but nothing she’d be interested in. “I’m fine. But Abe’s pretty shaken up.”

  “Well, not to sound callous, but I need you both to set up for the contest.”

  “You’re going ahead with production? Three members of your crew almost got blown up.” He was almost at his wits’ end trying to figure out how to deal with this woman.

  “For all we know it was a mechanical glitch. They happen. No one got hurt. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Me getting blown up would be the end of the world for me.”

  “Don’t take it personally. This is business. It’s my job to watch out for this show, and the studio will cancel us if we shut down taping again.”

  “You’re taking a big risk.”

  “This show is a big risk. Always has been.” Leah ran her hand over her face. “And you don’t know if this is anything more than that remote going haywire or Ollie screwing up. Either way, there were no reported injuries. Technically, accident reports don’t even have to be filled out on this. Read the policy.”

  “Hey!” A shout from up the trail.

  They both turned to see a very tall man hurrying toward them, nearly running, and waving his fist.

  “Oh, please, not now,” Leah muttered under her breath. Then she plastered a polite smile on her face and said cheerily, “Hi, Wally. What brings you by?”

  “Have you seen what your flying monkeys have done to Emmett’s Field?” The man jabbed a long, thin arm back the way he came. “Explosives! They used explosives and displaced half the field! Do you have any idea how many plant species were just decimated?”

  “It was a controlled—”

  “Controlled? You can’t control this mountain, and you shouldn’t even try!” He shook his head so hard that his thick glasses slid down his hooked nose. “If there are avalanche conditions, you should avoid the area. Would you build a house on a floodplain? No! Would you put a hospital on a fault line? No!” He stuck a finger in Jack’s face. “Would you hang-glide in a hurricane?”

  Jack smirked.

  Leah held up her hands in surrender. “I get it. Look, we’re here for another three weeks, tops. Then you can have the mountain back, okay?”

  Wally ran his hands over his long, greasy hair in frustration. “Who knows what permanent damage you’ll do in the meantime, you and your lot.” He glared at Jack. “It’s on you, too, you know.”

  “What is?” Jack asked.

  “Don’t think you’ll get away with pissing all over this mountain. And just saying you work for her is no excuse. The Nazis tried it at Nuremberg, and they were hanged.”

  Jack stepped forward. “Are you threatening me, Wally?”

  Wally’s long neck stretched till he stood eye to eye with Jack. “Me? No. I’ll let Mother Nature do it.” He turned to sneer at Leah. “I’ll let the blizzards do it!”

  “The weather report said the storms will miss us.”

  Wally chuckled bitterly. “No, both those storms changed course, and in two days they’re going to converge right here. Congratulations, you just hit the weather jackpot. It’s going to be a monster storm.”

  Jack glanced at Leah’s satellite phone. He half expected it to ring and for Alice to be on the other end, freaking out about him facing such a blizzard and letting him know that Mrs. Sawyer’s hip was right. He’d have to wait for the call tomorrow to calm her down.

  Wally pointed at the gondola. “Take my advice. Get off this mountain before that storm hits. And don’t ever come back.” He marched ten feet away, spun around, and yelled, “And if you stay, I hope this blizzard blows you and your whole damn crew right off this mountain!”

  14

  Lying Eyes

  Leah clapped her hands. “Attention, everyone!”

  Jack and the rest of the crew were gathered in the lodge’s main room. Jack rubbed his eyes and took another sip of coffee. Good and strong, which he desperately needed this morning. Last night, after setting up the gates for the contest and anchoring flags into the side of a cliff, they’d had to set up a dozen remote cameras. He hadn’t gotten to bed until almost one, and four and a half hours of sleep hadn’t helped much.

  “I’ve handed out the taping schedule. The five remaining contestants will be at the site in three hours. Before that, we need to tape Gavin’s intro. Ollie, you’re the only one not involved with the intro, so you’ll cover the contestants preparing for the slalom climb. Then we all head over to the challenge course. Any questions?”

  Abe raised his hand. “That weather geek came over
while I was checking on camera forty-three. He said a monster blizzard’s coming. Do you have an updated weather report?”

  Harvey answered. “We just got it in from the National Weather Service.” He walked to the front of the room. He pulled his belt up over his potbelly, but then his hands didn’t seem to know where to land. He crossed and uncrossed them and finally stuffed them into his pockets. “NWS still thinks the main storm will continue up the coast and miss us, but the storm up north is now tracking in our direction. The forecast is for snow flurries tonight, with increasing winds as the hours pass. It’s going to get down to about minus ten degrees, and that’s without the wind chill factor.”

  “You just described winter,” Ollie said. He laughed at his own joke, then took a swig of coffee. “But it don’t really matter if there’s a blizzard or not; the show must go on and all that hoopla, right?”

  “Ollie’s right, folks,” said Leah. “This is reality TV, so we’re shooting, rain or shine. Bundle up and get ready. Ryan, Harvey, and I will be in the booth. Let’s do this.”

  Jack handed Bree some tape from her audio kit. She seemed very distracted as she shoved the tape into a pocket. She picked up two microphone covers from the hinged black box on the snowy ground and held them palm up, like her hands were a set of scales. One cover was black, the other was blue, and both were thick and furry, like puffy, long-haired cats.

  “I’d go with the blue,” Abe said. “The stronger the wind, the longer the hair.”

  Bree’s lip trembled as she put the black one away.

  “Sorry to remind you.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Bree slipped the cover over the microphone and attached the mic to a long pole. “Charlie must have told me that at least a hundred times. I should’ve known which cover to pick.”

 

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