Melting the Ice

by Loreth Anne White

“You been able to link them?”

  “Only circumstantially. Mitchell is a common denominator but I haven’t been able to find him. I need to get into that spa tonight. If there’s something there, they could have it all cleaned out in no time if they get wind we’re on to them.”

  “Gotcha. I should be up there some time this evening.”

  Rex hung up and punched in the Gazette phone number. Hannah would probably be knocking off work by now. He could leave her in Scott’s care while he checked out the spa under the cover of the storm.

  “Gazette, how may I help you?”

  “Georgette, Rex here.”

  “Sorry, Rex, Hannah’s not taking calls right now.”

  So she was playing games. He felt anger start to prickle. Things were coming to a head and he didn’t have time to waste.

  “I need to know when I can pick her up.”

  “She says she’ll be working late this evening.”

  “Get her to call me.”

  “I will.”

  Damn Hannah. He’d give her an hour and then he’d march over there and drag her back himself. He kicked off his shoes and flopped back onto the hotel bed. He lay there, mentally sifting through Scott’s findings, trying to join the dots.

  Hannah was about to wrap up for the day when she saw Georgette standing wide-eyed at the door of the newsroom. The receptionist was speechless; her jaw hung slack.

  Hannah jumped up from her desk. “Georgie?”

  Georgette swayed and reached out for the doorjamb, as if to steady herself. “It’s, it’s…oh, God, Hannah…it’s…it’s your mom—”

  Hannah stormed forward, grabbed Georgette by the shoulders. “What? What’s happened, Georgie?”

  Hannah could feel Al’s hand on her shoulder, restraining her.

  “She’s…she’s on the phone. Line one.”

  Hannah dived for the receiver. “Mom!”

  “Oh, God, Hannah, I’m so sorry. Hannah, I’m so so sorry.”

  Fear dug talons in around Hannah’s throat. She couldn’t breathe. Danny. She knew. As if by sixth sense, she just knew.

  “Where’s Danny?” She could hear the hysterical shrill of her own voice. “My God, Mom, where’s Danny?” Her hand strangled the receiver. “Tell me!”

  “They got him, Hannah. He took him.”

  “Who?” She screamed down the line now. “Who took him?” Her body was trembling. She could feel Al’s hand on her shoulder.

  “The man. He was waiting at your house. He—” Her mother broke down into racking sobs.

  The sound of her mother crying tempered Hannah. “Where are you, Mom, is someone with you?”

  “I’m at the health care center. The police are here. They’ve just shut down the highway. No one can get in or out of White River. They will find him, Hannah.”

  Her legs buckled under her. She crumpled into her office chair. “Are you okay, Mom, have you been hurt?”

  “No, no. Oh my God, I’m so sorry—”

  “Mom, put one of the cops on the line.”

  The officer took the phone immediately. “Corporal Van Kleef here. Miss McGuire, I am sorry you had to find out this way. We do have an officer on his way over to your office.”

  “What in hell happened? Where’s my son?”

  “Your mother and son were confronted at your home by a male suspect. Your mother was knocked to the ground and your son was kidnapped. Your mother says she did not recognize the perpetrator.”

  She had no time for laborious cop-speak. “For God’s sake, just tell me what he looked like!”

  The corporal cleared his throat. “Big, tall. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt, baggy pants, a bandanna over his face. He had dark glasses on.”

  “Oh my God.” Hannah covered her mouth with her hand. He fit the description of the man who had tried to kill her. What did he want? Her tongue felt thick, too big for her dry mouth.

  “Miss McGuire, we’ve closed the highway. He won’t get out of White River with your son.”

  Al took the phone from Hannah, and Georgette rushed to fill a glass of water.

  “Rex…I…I have to call Rex.” Her words came hoarse from her throat. Dazed, she moved to pick up the receiver just as a bright shock of orange hair in the doorway snagged her attention.

  A clown.

  The ridiculous creature stood where Georgette had stood seconds ago. Mocking. Surreal.

  “Hannah McGuire?” He didn’t sound like a clown, but then she didn’t suppose she knew what a clown should sound like. Hannah felt like she’d slipped through the looking glass into a bizarre landscape, the numbness of shock laying claim to her body. “I’m Hannah,” she told the clown.

  He took a clumsy step forward with his long red polka dotted shoe, held out an envelope. “This is for you.”

  Hannah stood, reached forward with her trembling hand and took the envelope. She didn’t want to know what was inside.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  “Someone slipped me a wad of cash to drop it off.”

  “No!” She grabbed him as he turned to go. “Who paid you?”

  “Some dude in a big gray sweatshirt. I didn’t ask questions. Hey, it’s raining cats and dogs out there. I wasn’t going to make any other cash on the streets today. Gotta go. Got another delivery.”

  Hannah hardly noticed the clown leave as she fumbled at the envelope, dropping it in her haste. Al bent forward, picked it up off the floor, opened it for her. He held out a piece of plain white paper. She took it from him, read the black block-printed letters: “Come up to Grizzly Hut at once. Talk to no one or your kid dies a most horrible painful death.”

  Hannah crumpled the paper into a ball in her fist and made mechanically for the door. Like a zombie she reached for her rain jacket, a peaked cap and her ski pass.

  “Hannah, where are you going?”

  She ignored Al, pushed past Georgette and walked on wooden legs from the newsroom, out of the Gazette door, down the steps and into the solid shining sheet of gray-black rain.

  Rex turned the facts over and over in his brain. He knew Dr. Gunter Schmidt from somewhere, but he still couldn’t place him. His cell phone rang, jolting him.

  “Rex, here.”

  “Rex…Hannah, she’s gone. Her son has been kidnapped.”

  “Al?”

  “She’s left the office.”

  “What son?”

  “Hurry.” Panic laced the publisher’s voice.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Rex tied his boots, lunged for his jacket and pulled open the door. What did he mean “Hannah’s son”?

  A clown with a bright shock of orange hair stood, hand raised to knock. He stumbled back in surprise as Rex burst out of the room.

  “Uh, are you Rex Logan?”

  “What you want?”

  The clown handed him an envelope and turned to run in clumsy strides down the hallway. Rex tore open the white envelope, read the black block-printed letters on the plain white sheet of paper. As he absorbed the words he flashed back six years to the plain piece of white paper with black block lettering he’d received in Marumba.

  The writing was identical.

  He’d never forget it.

  It was etched into his brain. The words were almost identical: “We have her. Grizzly Hut. Come or your loved one will die a most horrible painful death.”

  Your loved one will die a most horrible painful death. The exact same words. He was here in White River. He had to be. The Plague Doctor was here.

  Rex shoved the note into his pocket and raced down the corridor to where the clown waited nervously for the elevator. Rex grabbed him by his big bow tie. “Where’d you get that letter?”

  Perspiration shone through his white pancake makeup, his red nose askew. “Hey, man. Chill out. A guy paid me, like I told the woman. He gave me cash. He told me the times I must make the deliveries. He said the first letter was to go to the woman at 5 p.m. at the Gazette office. Then I was to bring this one here, to
you.”

  The elevator doors opened. Rex grabbed the oversize lapels and shoved the clown up against the wall. “Don’t go anywhere, Bozo. The cops will be wanting to talk to you.”

  The elevator wasn’t fast enough. His usual methods of staying calm were not working. Rage clouded his vision.

  Rex found Al and Georgette huddled in the newsroom with an RCMP officer. He motioned to Al from the door, behind the officer’s back. He didn’t need to attract attention to himself just yet. He had to see what he could do before the cops started poking about.

  Al excused himself and joined Rex in the reception area.

  “What happened?”

  “Hannah’s son was kidnapped. She got a note from a clown and ran off.”

  Al’s words hit Rex sideways, like a mallet to the head. “Hannah has a son?”

  Al sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I guess she didn’t tell you.”

  Rex grabbed the front of Al’s shirt. “Tell me what?”

  “She has a boy. Daniel.” Al reached up to remove Rex’s hand from where he’d balled his shirt fabric into a fist. “Do you mind.”

  Rex dropped his hand. He was losing it. For Hannah’s sake he had to stay in control. “How old is Daniel?”

  “Five, going on six. He’ll be six in October.”

  “His father?”

  Al positioned his glasses back on his nose. Rex could see he was struggling with the information.

  “Where in hell is the boy’s father?”

  Al looked Rex directly in the eye. “The boy’s name is Logan…Daniel Logan McGuire.”

  Rex felt his stomach slide, as if he had swallowed a heavy, cold stone. His words came out a harsh whisper. “Logan? His middle name is Logan?”

  “As in Rex Logan.”

  “My son?”

  “He looks like you. I’m sorry it had to come out this way.”

  Chapter 14

  H er rain jacket kept her torso dry and the cap helped with her hair, but her pants were drenched and sticking to her legs by the time she reached the gondola station. Thank God the lift was running. The wind had died, and the lightning had stopped, but rain still poured, relentless.

  She held her pass out to the lifty, who looked her up and down as he scanned it. “You know it’s snowing heavily in the Alpine at the moment, ma’am?”

  “I’m just going up to the restaurant.” The restaurant was at midstation. She didn’t need to tell anyone she was going right to the top, to Grizzly Hut.

  “Well, you’re in luck. Only reason we’re running the gondola tonight is because of the party up there.” He smiled. “The big buffet kicks off the long weekend. Make sure you’re down by eleven. That’s when we shut down.”

  “Uh…did you see anyone else go up. A man with a little boy?”

  “No kid, ma’am. Just two other guys within the last hour or two. One and then the other a few minutes after him. Weird thing was they both had cuts on their faces. In the same place, just under the one eye.”

  Hannah wrapped her arms tightly across her chest as the gondola doors swung shut. She was shivering. From cold. From fear. She was nauseous with worry for Danny.

  The cab lurched out into the dark rain and started its climb up into black clouds.

  She felt exposed, vulnerable in the glass bubble as it swayed and lurched into the dank mist. She did not get out at midstation, and there was no one to see her continue the last leg of her ride up to the peak.

  She willed the car to go faster. As it rose higher, the driving rain turned to thick wet flakes of snow that plastered one side of the gondola. The weather was freakish at this elevation, at this time of year. By the time the sun came out tomorrow the snow would probably all have melted. No sign of it. But where would she be when the sun came out? Would she be holding her boy? Would the mountain claim them, like it had Amy, leaving no sign of the tragedy that was unraveling around her?

  Hannah shivered in her wet clothes as she shouted out the window. “Oh, Danny. Where’ve they taken you? What do they want?”

  Nothing in this world could have prepared Rex for the twisted tangle of emotions that assailed him.

  Outside the Gazette office he had to stop to collect himself. He gripped the cold metal of the staircase banister. Why hadn’t she told him?

  A son.

  A prickle of exhilaration burgeoning in his gut slammed head-on into anger. She’d kept the secret for six bloody years. He would’ve dropped everything had she told him. Now he might never see his son. The Plague Doctor had him. If he didn’t hurry, they’d have Hannah, too. They would use his woman and his boy to get to him.

  Rex sucked in the damp air, trying to find control. Six years ago he’d walked out on Hannah so that this would not happen.

  Now it had.

  They had all come full circle to see this thing finally play out.

  He had to get to them, to Hannah. He would not let six years of agony come to naught.

  Driven by a force alien to him, Rex flew down the stairs, two and three at a time. He would let nothing come between him and his son.

  He checked that his .38 was tucked into his hip holster and ducked into the rain. It would be dark soon. It was probably snowing in the Alpine. He needed gear. Fast.

  He vaulted up the stairs of Expedition, a rental and retail store off the village square. It was quiet, no other customers. Rex ordered his gear, making clear it was urgent. The clerk raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she gathered up two head lamps, gloves, hats, a backpack, emergency space blanket, a water bottle and first-aid kit. Rex flashed his credit card and quickly stuffed the gear into his new pack.

  The village was nearly empty as he ran through the cobblestone streets to the gondola station. The clerk at the store had told Rex it would still be operational because of a party up at the midstation restaurant.

  He saw the lifty chatting with another young guy as the gondola booths swung through the berth, opening and closing empty before starting back up the mountain.

  Rex considered running past the lifty and hijacking the cab with the doors just closing. But he figured if he didn’t go over to the booth and buy a ticket they’d shut the lift down and have security waiting for him up top. He couldn’t risk it.

  He pushed his cash through to the ticket seller. “One. Anyone else gone up recently?”

  She looked up at him through the hole in her glass booth.

  “Been real quiet today with the weather and all. We had a woman a short while ago and two guys before her. Should get busier closer to seven though, when the party up at the restaurant gets going.” She pushed the ticket and the waiver form out to Rex. “Sign here.”

  He spoke as he scribbled on the form. “Who bought the last ticket up?”

  “Can’t give out that information. Sorry.”

  Rex slipped a fifty-dollar note under the window of the ticket booth. The young woman looked up at him, surprised, unsure.

  “Can it hurt?”

  “I, uh…I guess not.” She flipped to the last waiver form that had been signed. “Here it is. Mark Bamfield.”

  “Did he have a little boy with him, about six years old?” My son.

  “No, sir. Haven’t been any kids going up since this morning.”

  “And the woman and the other bloke? Who were they?”

  “They used passes. I don’t have their names on waiver forms.”

  “Your lifties scan the bar codes on the passes, don’t you? Their names show up on your computers.”

  The woman hesitated. Rex slipped another fifty-dollar bill under the glass. Her dark brown eyes opened wide.

  “Everyone has their price, sweetie.” If money didn’t work, there were other ways.

  She turned to her computer monitor, opened a window and scrolled down a page. She looked at the times of the scans. “The woman was Hannah McGuire. The man—” she scrolled farther down the computer page “—I’m sorry, there’s no particular name registered against
that bar code. The pass he used was a corporate pass that belongs to the White River Spa. Their staff use it and they also give it out to guests. It could’ve been anyone.”

  Rex left the booth, handed his ticket to the lift attendant and climbed into a gondola car.

  There was no way to go any faster. Mitchell, the loose cannon, was up there with Hannah. Who else? And where was Daniel Logan McGuire? The Plague Doctor was behind this. Rex was certain of it. After all these years everything had converged in this quiet mountain town. Had the Plague Doctor been hiding up here, in plain sight, while he continued his diabolical work?

  Rex flipped open his cell phone and punched in Scott’s number.

  “Scott here.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Down here in the lobby of the Presidential. I got into White River earlier than I expected. Where are you calling from?”

  “I’m in a gondola heading up Powder Mountain. I need your help.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’m gonna keep it brief. McGuire has a son. He’s been kidnapped. I suspect they’re using the boy to flush her and myself out. They—and I think the Plague Doctor is involved in this—are luring us to the Grizzly Hut up on Powder Peak. I don’t know where the boy is…or even if he’s still alive. I need you to get to the White River Spa and check it out. See if the boy is there. Mountain staff haven’t seen a kid go up in this lift since this morning. He was kidnapped around four o’clock this afternoon, but there’s a back entrance to the spa. You can get to it through the back of White River Park.”

  “What’s the boy’s name?”

  Rex felt his voice catch. “Daniel…Daniel Logan McGuire. He’s almost six. See what you can find. I’m going to see if they’ve got Hannah up at the hut.”

  “Logan McGuire?”

  “Yeah.”

  Scott was silent for a minute. Processing the information.

  “Take it easy, Rex.”

  “You, too, buddy.”

  He watched from the shadows of the mountain-top gondola station as she emerged from the building and stumbled up the rocky path into the swirling gray. After six years, it was all finally going to come to an end. Like a festering boil, it had taken until now. Here, in White River, all the links were coming together. He felt a sense of relief. Finally he could purge himself.