Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series

by Christopher Greyson

  “You know what to do. You’ll be fine,” Abe said. “Just don’t let Gavin get you flustered. I have to go make the trail.”

  “What trail?” Jack asked. “Do you need a hand?”

  “Nope. I’m the only man who can do it.” Abe puffed out his chest and made a silly face. “The opening shot is supposed to look like Gavin walked up the mountain or something. We need footprints in the snow, so I have to circle around and walk up to make them. Then Gavin will stand at the end of my trail and we’ll take the shot.”

  Bree rolled her eyes. “You’d think Mr. Big Shot Action Hero could handle his own walking. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you to give him a piggyback ride.”

  Abe laughed, then handed Jack a photo; a still shot of where they were standing. “Harvey shot the drone B-roll yesterday. The shot finishes with the drone rising over that ridge and then sweeping over here, where I set up my tripod. This picture is the final frame. My prints will lead up to here, then they’ll drop in a tree digitally, overlay the logo, and blend the shots together. The audience will never know it wasn’t taped at the same time.”

  “It’s so ridiculous. Like Gavin’s some great adventurer,” Bree grumbled.

  Abe chuckled again, but Jack picked up on the sideways glance he gave Bree and the slight shake of his head. “All right, well, gotta go make the footprints. All in a day’s work.” He began trotting through the snow.

  “I take it you’re not a Gavin Maddox fan?” Jack said once Abe was out of earshot.

  “Have you ever worked on a TV show before?”

  Jack shook his head.

  “Well, Gavin doesn’t use a teleprompter like most TV stars. Instead, he has Ryan hold a mirror so he can look at himself.” Bree laughed. “It’s funny, but I’m serious. That says it all. I think Gavin’s middle name is Ego.”

  Jack chuckled. “How long have you been with the show?”

  “Since season three. Do you remember Abe saying how someone in the Alps made them a wind muff? That was me. I was hiking across the Alps with my boyfriend, who developed a sudden fear of heights—and commitment. He dumped me and flew home. I continued on alone and ran into Abe and Charlie. I made them a stupid-looking muff, and they got Leah to hire me as a gofer. They convinced her I was a female MacGyver.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened to Charlie.” Jack suddenly realized that the woman who dropped to her knees on the videotape of the accident was Bree.

  “Yeah. He was a great guy.”

  Bree looked out across the snow for what seemed like minutes. They stood silently; the only sounds were the wind and the settling snow.

  “Have you ever seen anyone die?” Bree asked quietly.

  Dozens of images flashed through Jack’s mind like a macabre flip-book of death. “I was a soldier,” he said simply. He clenched his teeth and tried to focus on a pine tree, anything to force the pictures from his head.

  Bree reached out and touched his arm, encased in his thick winter coat. Even though he couldn’t feel her fingers, the compassionate gesture made his skin tingle and took the edge off his pain.

  They worked in silence for the next half hour, each lost in thought. When Abe returned, they could hear him coming from a hundred yards away, singing “The Sound of Music” at the top of his lungs, way off-key. He climbed onto the rock where Gavin was going to stand for the shot, threw his arms out, and began spinning around. He finished his ballad with an air guitar solo that made both Jack and Bree burst out laughing.

  “Thank you. Thank you.” Abe bowed. “Feel free to supplement my meager pay with generous tips.”

  “Here’s a tip for you,” Bree said. “Knock it off and look busy, because here they come.” She pointed back down the trail at two men striding up to them.

  “You ever met a real-life diva before?” Bree asked Jack with a smile.

  “Just a few.”

  “Well, you’re in for a real treat. Here come two.”

  Gavin Maddox looked more like a newscaster than an action hero. He was six feet even and looked fit, but there was something soft about him that chafed Jack as soon as he heard the man’s voice.

  “I’m still not… comfortable with the opening.” Gavin sighed, stretching out the sound to a whine. “I should be doing something more than just standing there. What are my fans going to think?”

  “You know what they’ll think?” Ryan put a hand on Gavin’s chest. “They’ll see your heart. They’ll feel you, Gavin. Trust me.”

  Gavin smoothed his meticulously groomed blond hair. “Yeah. That’ll work. A soft sell. We’ll push my sensitive side. The chicks will love it! Okay, let’s do this.”

  “All right, people,” Ryan bellowed, even though there were only three of them and they were right there. “Places. You heard Gavin, let’s do this. Headsets on, everyone.”

  Jack flicked the power switch on the box at his waist. The over-ear microphone was so comfortable he’d forgotten he had it on. He made a mental note to look into getting one if he ever got back into police work. He’d at least pass the thought on to Undersheriff Morrison. A microphone system that was always on would be perfect for fieldwork and a good addition to body cameras.

  Bree raised a hand. “I need a mic check on Gavin, please.”

  “You already ran me through one when you put the mic on, sweetie.” Gavin winked. “Where’s my spot?”

  “I still need a check because of the wind,” Bree said.

  Ryan waved her off and said, “Stand right on top of that rock, Gavin.” As Gavin took his position, Ryan moved behind Abe. “Okay, on three. Hey!” He snapped his fingers at Jack. “Where’s the slate?”

  “The what?” Jack said.

  “The slate. The slate board. You’re the new gofer, right?”

  “It’s my fault,” Bree said. “I didn’t give it to him.” She pulled a slate board out of her bag and a dry erase marker from her pocket. She wrote something on the board, then handed both marker and board to Jack. “For each take, add one to the number. Hold it up in front of Gavin, and when Ryan says ‘Action,’ click the bar. They use it for editing, so—”

  “Ding-ding.” Gavin mimed ringing a bell. “Film school’s over. Can we get this show moving?”

  “Of course, Gavin.” Ryan glared at Jack. “You, over there.”

  Jack walked over and held the slate board in front of Gavin’s face.

  “Don’t block my face,” Gavin snapped.

  He grabbed Jack’s outstretched arm and tried to yank it down, but Jack’s arm stiffened and didn’t budge. Jack just looked calmly at Gavin’s hands. Gavin let go, and Jack lowered the slate so it was no longer blocking Gavin’s face.

  Prima donna much?

  “We need a sound check,” Bree said insistently.

  Gavin puffed a sigh into the cold air. “Fine. Testing one, two, three. Testing one, two, three. She sells seashells by the seashore. Are we ready now?”

  “Got it.” Bree smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Before my cheeks start to pink.” Gavin shook out his hands and opened and closed his mouth several times. Some sort of acting warm-up, Jack figured, but it looked ridiculous.

  “All right.” Ryan held up a hand and started counting down with his fingers. “Action in five, four, three…”

  Jack clicked the slate on “Action” and hurried out of the shot.

  As soon as the camera started rolling, Gavin’s presence completely changed. He was smooth and articulate, and if Jack hadn’t heard him speak before, he would have thought Gavin was in fact an action hero. The creep is really good.

  “Welcome to Planet Survival. I’m your host, Gavin Maddox. As you at home are only too aware, during each and every show, myself, the contestants, and the crew are in constant danger. This planet we live on can be a beautiful but treacherous place. And while I do my personal best to ensure that everyone is safe, despite perilous hazards, accidents happen. Last year, we lost one of our Planet Survival family. And yes, we are a family. That’s how much
my crew means to me. I lost more than a coworker—I lost a friend… and a brother.” Gavin wiped a tear from his eye. “Chucky Parker was family.”

  Bree’s hands balled into fists.

  “Charlie!” Abe snapped. “His name was Charlie Parker.” Judging by the dark scowl on his face, he was about ready to kill Gavin.

  Ryan shouted, “Cut!”

  Gavin shrugged. “Wasn’t Chucky a nickname or something?”

  “No.” Bree glared.

  “Right.” Gavin flashed a broad grin. “Charlie. Got it.”

  “Okay, take two.” Ryan pointed at Jack. “Change the slate sometime today, gofer?”

  Gavin repeated his entire speech. Again, he made the gesture of wiping tears from his eyes. This time he got Charlie’s name right.

  “But,” he continued, “as we say in this business of entertainment, ‘the show must go on.’ Our contestants have waited a year to resume their competition here on Mount Minuit, and Charlie would want nothing less than for us to see this season through to its thrilling conclusion—for the sake of our contestants, our crew, and most importantly, our fans. So it’s in memory of my dear friend Charlie Parker that I say…” Here, Gavin shifted from Mr. Sensitive to Mr. Showtime as he flashed a broad smile and held his hand out to the cliff looming behind him. “Welcome back! This winter’s going to be white-hot. Tonight, I give you the ‘Jack and Jill Solemn Challenge.’”

  Jack cringed when Gavin mangled the word slalom, but no one else seemed to notice.

  “Each contestant must traverse a different route up this sheer tower of icy rock. The individual routes are marked by seven gates anchored into the cliff face that each contestant must pass through.” The camera panned up the face of the cliff. Red, white, blue, yellow, and green gates dotted five race paths that zigzagged upward. “Risking death, today’s contenders will battle it out to conquer the ‘Jack and Jill Solemn.’ The first contestant to retrieve their pail from the top and make it back down to the start, wins. Let me show you how it’s done.”

  Gavin walked over to the blue course and pulled himself up about a foot off the ground. Jack thought Gavin was going to climb the course, but after hanging there a moment, Gavin looked back, rolled his eyes, and yelled, “I’m waiting!”

  “Gofer!” Ryan shouted.

  Bree pointed to the equipment bag. “Get the blue pail.”

  Jack raced over to the equipment bag, found a small tin pail painted bright blue, and held it up.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Ryan snapped, “give it to Gavin.” Jack rushed over to Gavin and handed him the pail.

  “Now get out of the shot!” Ryan yelled. Jack ran back toward Bree.

  Who said TV work was glamorous?

  Gavin dropped down to the snow. He turned around and exhaled loudly, his shoulders rising and falling like he’d actually climbed the cliff. “Veni, vidi, vici!” He panted dramatically, lifted the pail high, and smoothed his hair. “Each path is fraught with jagged rocks, ice, and deceptive handholds, but I made it. Now it’s their turn—and the players will have the added pressure of racing each other to the finish line. But one thing is for sure: the last climber to finish will be eliminated.”

  Jack wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Gavin’s grin actually got bigger.

  “Cut!” Gavin yelled. “Perfect. I nailed it.”

  “Mr. Humble he’s not,” Abe whispered.

  “Should I tell him he mispronounced slalom?” Bree asked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

  “Why?” Jack shrugged. “He was perfect, right?” He winked, and all three chuckled.

  Gavin walked over and tossed the blue pail at Jack’s feet. “Going forward, you’d better get on the ball, gofer. We don’t need your lack of professionalism delaying production.”

  Jack was about to retort, but out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Abe shaking his head.

  “All right, let’s keep it moving!” Ryan called out. “Leah, we’re waiting on Ollie.”

  “He should be almost there.” Leah’s voice came over the microphone. “I needed him to get more B-roll.”

  Abe pointed down the trail at the approaching snowmobile. “Here he comes now.”

  Ollie parked next to the equipment and Ryan waved him over. “Gavin needs to get ready for the next shot, so you’ll have to fill in for him and climb.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” Ollie muttered as he got off the snowmobile. He unzipped his jacket and switched it out with another from an equipment bag. He also swapped out his goggles for another pair. When he had the new gear on, he looked just like Gavin—at a distance, anyway.

  As Ollie trotted over to the base of the cliff, Ryan and Gavin walked over to Abe, Jack, and Bree.

  “We need a wide shot of Ollie making the climb,” Ryan said to Abe. “Stay on the ground and just follow him up and down. Then get a few close-ups of hands and feet that we can cut to.” He turned back and shouted, “Ollie, climb fast! We need Gavin to look great.”

  “I could make that climb in my sleep,” Gavin muttered.

  “I know,” Ryan said soothingly, “but we need to get you back to the lodge to warm up. When the contestants get here, you’re going to be doing interviews with lots of close-ups, and you’re looking a little splotchy.”

  Gavin’s hand went to his cheeks like Ryan had slapped him. “I need a trailer. Or a remote tent. Something.” He pulled his scarf up around his face, and the two launched into an animated conversation as they strode away.

  Jack glared after them. “No one told me they needed a pail. They didn’t have it on the prop sheet.”

  “Didn’t anyone tell you that ‘scapegoat’ is part of the gofer’s job description?” Abe was smiling, but already concentrating on filming Ollie’s climb.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jack,” Bree said. “They can’t make any mistakes, so it must be your fault.”

  But Jack fumed in frustration. His job was to check the prop sheet before the shoot—and he’d done that. There wasn’t any mention of a blue pail.

  “Forget the pail,” said Abe. “You know what we really needed during Gavin’s little speech about ‘family’? A barf bag.”

  “Just swallow it back down,” Bree said. “That’s what I did.”

  Abe made a gagging face.

  “Wait a sec,” Jack said. “They’re going to edit the footage and make it look like Gavin made Ollie’s climb?”

  “It’s ‘television magic’!” Abe said, shaking his head.

  “The deception of a digital age.” Bree crossed her arms. “It’s scary. You can’t trust anything anymore. Not even your own lying eyes.”

  15

  Business Is Booming

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Mrs. Stevens asked as she brought Lady in from her walk.

  Alice leaned back in her chair and pointed at the computer screen. “Charlie’s camera was never recovered after the avalanche.” That fact bothered Alice to no end; yet another detail bothered her even more. “And no one from Planet Survival filed an insurance claim for the missing camera.”

  “I’m sure they must have lots of other cameras.” Mrs. Stevens unfastened Lady’s leash, and the dog trotted over to her bowl.

  “The cameras they use for video start at fifty thousand dollars.”

  Mrs. Stevens whistled. “I’d file a claim for that.”

  “You’d think anyone would.” Alice drummed her fingers. “But they didn’t. And I can’t find a missing camera in their inventory reconciliation.”

  “That’s odd. Maybe it was extra?”

  Alice glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Stevens, who shrugged.

  “That’s not even the inventory discrepancy that’s bugging me the most.” Alice clicked another window, and a scanned document appeared.

  “An invoice?” Mrs. Stevens asked, squinting over Alice’s shoulder.

  Alice shook her head. “It’s a manifest for a delivery received by Planet Survival from ATD Control. I found it in a file marked ‘Miscella
neous.’ ATD Control is a relatively new avalanche mitigation business. This slip shows they provided a large sample shipment of their avalanche control products to Planet Survival at the beginning of last season. It’s signed by the producer, Leah Coleman.”

  “That makes sense. The show does a lot of product placement. In season four, Gavin started each show by driving up in a different SUV.”

  “This wasn’t product placement. This was to entice Planet Survival to buy their goods. They’re very costly. But the weird thing is, none of the products that ATD provided are listed on any of the current inventory sheets. They’re completely off the books. Where did it all go?”

  “Hopefully not boom!” Mrs. Stevens said, half joking.

  Alice put her hand on the mouse. “Maybe.”

  Mrs. Stevens let out a long, slow whistle.

  “The accident investigation concluded that propeller wash from the helicopter caused the avalanche. Primarily because there was no evidence to the contrary. The investigation notes the Planet Survival crew insisted that they didn’t deliberately set off an avalanche and that all of the avalanche charges were accounted for.”

  Mrs. Stevens’ eyes widened. “But they did have these additional avalanche charges. And they aren’t accounted for.”

  Alice nodded. “So, the million-dollar question is: Did someone use them to deliberately start that avalanche?”

  16

  Seeing Red

  Jack waited with a clipboard at the base of the cliff. He’d been told to ask each contestant four questions. Were they in poor health? Did they need food or water? Did they require any medical attention? Was there any reason they should withdraw from the competition?

  A short man wearing a multicolored hat bounded out of the woods and headed straight toward him, the three bright pompoms bouncing on the top of his knit cap as he made his way across the field. He thrust out a hand and grinned up at Jack with a bright smile. “I’m Chiri. You’re new.”

  “Name’s Jack.” At the man’s introduction, for a moment he thought the man was speaking about his temperament and had said “cheery,” but then Jack realized this was Chiri Gombu.