Jack ran through the four questions, and Chiri answered no to all of them. Then Chiri leaned in close like he was about to share a secret. He seemed to have no trouble with English, though he had a heavy accent. “I can save you some time, friend. Everyone will give the right answers to these questions, even if they aren’t true. If they don’t, they’re kissing five million dollars bye-bye.”
Jack had figured as much; this was strictly for the lawyers. “I still need to ask.”
“Hey, Chiri.” Bree walked over and held out a battery. “How’s the headset holding up?”
“Great.” Chiri took the battery and removed a cigarette-sized box from his pocket. “But I still think you need to put a mute button on these things. No one wants to hear me eat.” He grinned.
“People forget to turn them back on.” Bree pointed to the tree line. “Looks like your competition is lagging behind you.”
Three more contestants, two women and a man, emerged from the trees. The man broke into a jog.
“I hope it stays that way.” Chiri’s pompoms bounced as he laughed. “Me first, and everyone else following far, far behind.”
Bree made a locking motion in front of her mouth.
“I know you can’t say you hope I win, but I see it in your eyes.” Chiri laughed again and walked over to the cliff while Bree returned to her sound equipment.
“Don’t forget, Jack.” Leah’s voice in his ear made Jack jump. He had forgotten about his own microphone and earpiece. “Keep your interaction with the contestants to a minimum. Especially the redhead coming your way.”
The man reached Jack first. He was a little shorter than Jack but built like a linebacker. He stood ramrod straight, glanced at the clipboard, then stared ahead. From the way he refused to turn his head, Jack had the impression the guy was upset with one of the two female contestants behind him.
“Eric Sanders.” The man’s voice was gruff.
Jack asked the questions and received a crisp response to each. The minute the questions were done, Eric marched over to Chiri.
A flaming redhead stepped in front of the blond contestant and offered her hand. “Why, hello. You’re new.” Her voice was as sultry as her bombshell good looks.
Jack shook her hand. She had taken off her glove, and her skin was warm in the cold air. “Jack Stratton.”
“Vicky Hill. Welcome to my show.” She laughed. “I’m kidding.”
“I need to ask you the standard questions.”
“Go right ahead, Jack.” Vicky said his name slowly, with an emphasis on the k. She looked at him over long lashes as she pulled on her glove. “I like the sound of your voice. Are you an actor? You’re hot enough to be one.”
The sound of metal on rock made everyone look at the cliff. Eric had his climbing ax in his hand. He stared at Jack, then drove the spike down against the rock again. The alpha male has revealed himself. That didn’t take long.
“Don’t mind him,” Vicky said, rolling her eyes. “He just pretends to be the bad boy. He’s got the ‘boy’ part right. All talk, no action.”
Jack asked her the questions, and Vicky answered. Then she stepped a little closer. “And what’s your position? Not your favorite one”—she winked—“but your job on the show.”
Her approach was so overt that Jack wondered if this was the real Vicky or part of her show persona. Either way, Jack had no intention of responding to her lewd advances, with or without Leah listening in. “Gofer.”
Vicky’s smile flickered and faded in disappointment. “Oh.” She walked over to the cliff. She stopped several yards away from Chiri and Eric.
“Good morning,” said the second woman. Her German accent was as thick as her blond hair, which she wore pulled back in a ponytail. “I am Frida Becher. Nice to meet you.”
Jack introduced himself and asked the questions again. Frida listened closely, as if hearing them for the first time, and answered just as carefully.
She lifted her face to the gray sky. “Looks like snow.” She grinned.
“That makes you happy? And you’re up here in a tent?”
“The winter here is… what’s the word I look for? Mild? Where I am from, we call this weather Frühling.”
“What is that in English?”
“Spring!” Frida teased. She was very pretty, but when she smiled she was downright stunning. “I love snow. The more snow, the happier Frida is. Snow keeps the plants safe and warm. It’s going to get very cold. The grass and trees need more snow.” With that, she made her way over to gaze up at the course.
“Hold on, just hold on. I’m coming.” The final contestant, an older man dressed in camouflage from head to toe, came stomping through the snow toward Jack. He spat out a nasty stream of chewing tobacco that left a long line of dark brown on the snow. “Cornelius Green. Now, I don’t lose nothing being last checking in, right? I forgets some of y’all’s rules. You’ve got a million of ’em.”
“You’re fine. The contest hasn’t started yet. I just have to ask you four questions.”
“Yeah, I know ’em. Kinda stupid questions, but go ahead.”
“Are you in poor health?”
“Fit as a fiddle.”
“Do you need food or water?”
“I’ve got plenty. Y’all should know that. You seen me eatin’ with that red-eyed spooky spy camera. Watching me all night and day like I’m in Germany or something.”
At the mention of Germany, Frida looked back at them over her shoulder.
“East Germany!” Cornelius yelled over to her. “They used to do that stuff back when you were commies. Hey, we’re good now.” He gave her a thumbs-up.
Frida’s face twisted in confusion, but she nodded and waved.
“Personally, I was against putting that country back together,” Cornelius whispered. “I mean, how many world wars have we had? Two. And who started both of ’em?”
“Actually, Serbia started World War One,” Jack said.
Cornelius spat more tobacco. “That’s just what the history books say.”
Jack decided against arguing. “Do you require any medical attention?”
“Depends on who’s doing the checkup.” Cornelius chuckled. “You? No. But if that cute producer lady is playing doctor again, then I think I’m dying.”
“Just ask him the question again, Jack,” Leah said in his earpiece.
“Leah was playing doctor? When was this, Cornelius?” Jack said, a mischievous smile crossing his face.
“That tall, lanky fella cut his hand last year. Leah patched him up real good. Not too many gals that don’t turn all squeamish when they see that much blood.”
“Repeat the question, Stratton.” Leah’s voice was all business.
“Do you require any medical attention?”
“Nope.” Cornelius spat again, adding to the patchwork of dark brown at his feet.
“Is there any reason you should withdraw from the competition?”
“Hell, no. I’m gonna win. You can write that down, too.” Cornelius tapped Jack’s paper with a worn glove.
“Well, thanks for answering my questions.”
“Anytime. Much obliged.”
“Jack?” Leah’s voice came over his earpiece again. “In the equipment bag is the lot basket. You need to give it to Gavin.”
Jack jogged over to the same bag that Ollie had gotten the jacket and goggles from, a big blue gym bag emblazoned with the Planet Survival logo. He unzipped it and looked around inside.
“The covered brown basket,” Leah said.
Jack took out a battered wicker basket the size of a basketball. It had a removable top attached by a cord. Inside were tiles in different colors.
“Make sure there are five tiles in there. Red, white, green, yellow, and blue.”
“Yep, got ’em,” Jack said.
“Good. Give the basket to Ryan,” Leah instructed.
As Jack stood, he saw Eric and Vicky standing toe to toe. Eric’s ax was in his climbing belt, but Vicky’
s was now in her hands.
“Where were you?” Eric asked, his voice raised.
“Sleeping. In my tent,” Vicky said.
“That’s bull. I went there. You weren’t there.”
“Maybe I was using the bathroom.”
“I waited there for a long time.”
Vicky shrugged. “Are you sure you got the right tent?”
Abe circled around them with his camera. When Eric saw the cameraman, he huffed and waved his hands dismissively. “Like I care,” he fumed. “You want to get cozy with one of these losers, go right ahead. You’ll be going home tonight anyway.”
“All right, everyone!” Ryan called out as he strode up with Gavin at his side. “Abe and Ollie, places, please. Gofer! Where’s the lot basket?”
Jack jogged over to Ryan, gave him the basket, and backed out of the shot.
“Can you move a little faster next time?” Ryan said, snapping his fingers repeatedly while making a snide face. He opened the basket and reached inside. He made a big deal of counting the tiles, even reaching inside and moving them around. “At least you can count to five.” He handed the basket to Gavin, and they both laughed.
Taking a deep breath, Jack counted all the way to ten, fighting the urge to knock their heads together.
Bree waved Jack over to her. “There shouldn’t be anything for you to do, but you can stand here.”
The contestants formed a half circle in front of Gavin, who stood with his back toward the cliff-side course. He lifted the basket up and shook it. “In this basket are five colored tiles. Each color matches a marked route on the cliff-side. Survivalists, pick your fate.” He stepped toward Cornelius and held the basket above his head.
Cornelius reached in and pulled out a white tile. Eric got red, Frida green.
When Gavin came to Chiri, he held the basket well above the shorter man’s reach. Chiri went along with the joke and jumped up a few times.
“Come on, Chiri.” Gavin laughed. “Or should we get you some climbing gear?”
Chiri made a motion like he was going to punch Gavin in the stomach. When Gavin brought his arms down to cover his midsection, Chiri’s hand shot into the basket and pulled out a yellow tile.
“Smile, Gavin.” Leah’s voice sounded in Jack’s earpiece. “It’s part of your joke, right?”
Gavin smiled and laughed, but he didn’t look too happy.
“That was priceless,” Bree whispered.
Vicky reached into the basket and pulled out the last tile.
“Looks like I’m blue.” She flashed a dazzling smile at Gavin.
“In your places.” Gavin tossed the basket aside and lifted his hands dramatically into the air. “Climbers, are you ready?”
Everyone shouted yes.
“On three, two, one, GO!”
The contestants raced toward the rock wall. Chiri moved effortlessly up the face of the cliff, while Frida and Eric vied for second place. Vicky was next, and Cornelius brought up the rear. But all of them were remarkably fast, considering the conditions. Jack was impressed.
As the contestants got closer to the top, the route Eric was on forced him to climb out over a rocky outcropping. His legs dangled in the air as he pulled himself up, but it caused him to fall behind the others.
Chiri reached the top first and grabbed his pail. He was followed by Vicky, Frida, and then Cornelius.
Bree made a face. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to use any of Eric’s audio. He’s totally freaking out up there.”
Eric finally made it to the top, seized his pail, and started his descent. But by now the other contestants had a huge lead; there was no way he was going to recover the lost time. Chiri won, Vicky came in second, and Cornelius came in a surprising third. He had rappelled down the cliff, dropping like a stone. In fact, he’d come down so fast that Jack had to resist the urge to rush forward, thinking Cornelius was falling instead of in a controlled descent.
When Frida’s boots touched the ground, Eric started screaming above. He swore at the top of his lungs and smashed his climbing ax off the rocks. “That was bull! My route went straight-out vertical! I was hanging for half my climb!”
“Eric, please keep your voice down.” Gavin cast a sideways glance toward Ollie and motioned him over. “In every contest you have winners, but you also get—”
“Screw you!” Eric shouted. “I’m saying straight up that this contest was fixed!”
“Remind him about the random tiles, Gavin,” Leah said.
“You yourself chose that route,” Gavin said. “Each contestant had the same chance you did of pulling the red tile and getting that route. It’s just bad luck.”
Eric finally dropped to the ground. He spun away from the cliff and walked straight up to Gavin. “Luck? What are the chances that in every contest Vicky’s got good luck and I draw the short straw?” He pulled out his red tile and held it up. “Red is the hardest route, blue’s the easiest. It’s not luck, it’s crap.” He dropped his tile to the frozen ground.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Eric. We haven’t asked if anyone wants to use their rescue flare and save you from elimination. There are still two flares remaining in the game. Cornelius and Vicky each have one.”
Eric glared at Vicky and Cornelius. “Well?”
“Sorry, Crew Cut, but I’m saving mine,” Cornelius said. “Can I go back to my tent now?”
Gavin scowled. “We’re almost done. Well, Vicky? Will you use your rescue flare to save Eric?”
Vicky did her best to look like she was struggling with the decision. Overacting, she rubbed her temples and then shook her head slowly, her red hair swinging.
“I don’t think so.”
Eric erupted. “This is what I think of the lot of you!” He swore and held up both middle fingers toward the camera.
“Cut him off, Abe,” Leah said.
“Don’t you dare,” Ryan snapped. “This is gold.”
Eric stomped toward Vicky, and Jack moved to cut him off. “You need to back off,” Jack warned him.
“Get out of my way,” Eric snarled.
“Move the hell out of the shot, Jack!” Leah ordered.
“Let this go, Leah,” Ryan said. “Keep rolling, guys. Jack, why don’t you step toward Eric? Get in his face a little?”
Jack held his ground. “It’s just a show, Eric. Just walk away. It’s not worth it.”
“Not worth it? You’re kidding. It’s worth five million dollars!” Eric stared down everyone who dared meet his menacing glare. “This isn’t over. I’m not forgetting this.” He pointed at Vicky. “Or you.”
He snarled at Gavin, who stepped behind Jack, then he stormed off.
“Keep it moving, Gavin. Congratulate them,” Leah said.
Gavin stood before the group. “To the remaining contestants,” he said, “I salute you. The next challenge will take place in three days’ time. For those who manage to survive that long,” he added ominously.
“Abe, get close-ups,” Ryan directed. “Ollie, get me some long shots. If you can still see Eric, try to get a shot of him moping away.”
“Get the colored tiles from the contestants before they leave, Jack,” Leah said.
Jack picked up the wicker basket and the red tile Eric had dropped. He had to jog over to Cornelius to get his, as the old mountain man was already walking away.
“That was dramatic,” Chiri said as he gave his yellow tile to Jack.
“Congratulations on finishing first,” Jack said.
“I actually slowed down to make it look good,” Chiri whispered. “I want everyone to underestimate me. They think Chiri is just a happy little man. Hey—you don’t think Eric’s mad at me, do you?”
“I think he’s mad at the world.”
Frida came up and handed her green tile to Jack. “I think what you did was… plucky.”
Jack cracked a crooked smile at the word choice. “Thanks.”
He walked over to Vicky, who was talking to Ryan. �
�Eric’s gone now, right?” Vicky was asking.
“Oh yeah, very gone. He has to clear out his tent and head directly to the gondola.”
“You need to make absolutely sure of that, Ryan. Did you see how he was looking at me? I mean, if looks could kill, I’d be dead.” Vicky put her hands on her hips. “Do I need to talk to Leah?”
“No.” Ryan’s lips pressed together. “Once Ollie gets a couple more shots, I’ll send him over to make sure that Eric vacates.” Ryan went off to talk to Gavin.
“Vicky, I need your blue tile,” Jack said.
Vicky zipped up her jacket. “You’ll have to frisk me for it.”
Yikes. “Please drop the tile in the basket.”
“I must have lost it in the climb.” She pointed up the cliff. “You’re welcome to go up and look for it. Sorry.” She gave a little wave over her shoulder as she walked away.
Jack clamped his mouth shut.
“Aren’t you glad you stood up for her now?” Bree said as she strode up.
“I didn’t do it for her,” Jack muttered. He walked with Bree over to the equipment bag.
“Then who’d you do it for?”
Jack shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Well, right or wrong, I’d stay away from Eric. He’s got a bad, bad temper and he’s ex-military. He should be on the gondola heading down soon. Until then, steer clear.”
“That’s good advice,” Leah said in Jack’s earpiece.
“You jumping into random conversations is a little creepy, Leah,” Jack said. “Are you always listening?”
“And watching.” The nearest remote camera wiggled back and forth on the pole it was mounted to.
“Super creepy.” Jack cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I messed up the shot. I said I wouldn’t interfere, but that situation was escalating rapidly.”
“Don’t do it again, but I get it. You’re a regular Boy Scout.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Touché. But I didn’t mean it that way. I guess I should have said it was… plucky.” She laughed.
“I can see I’m not going to live that down.” If she’d been standing in front of him, Jack would have thrown a snowball at her.
Jack Frost: Detective Jack Stratton Mystery Thriller Series Page 10