by Sara Grant
OK. That was a stupid thing to say. In these circumstances, it could hurt a lot – like, dead hurt, but I couldn’t sit here and do nothing. “I’m going, with or without you.”
“We are not going after him,” Mackenzie said, still pulling on her snowsuit. I zipped up mine. “I mean it,” Mackenzie insisted as I stomped into my boots. We were dressed in no time and leaving our room. “We are telling Ariadne what we’ve found.” She punched the up arrow on the elevator.
I checked around the corner where I’d seen Blake disappear. “I want to know what he’s up to and then we’ll tell Grandma everything.”
The up arrow dinged and the elevator doors opened. Mackenzie grasped my hand as if I was a toddler escaping from the playground and hauled me inside. She punched the button for Grandma’s floor, still holding on to me.
I gritted my teeth. “We might be letting the killer get away.”
“I might be saving your life,” Mackenzie said. The doors opened, and I shuffled out, following Mackenzie. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the courtyard. Blake was out there somewhere doing God knows what.
I almost laughed when I saw a figure in a red snowsuit appear outside right under the windows. “Grandma’s not in her room,” I told Mackenzie, who had already marched halfway down the hall.
“What, are you psychic now?” She cocked her head in that annoying way she did when she knew she was right, except this time she wasn’t.
“Because she left the building.” I punched open the stairway door. “Come on.” I took the stairs two at a time. I had to wait for Mackenzie to catch up at the front door. We raced into the courtyard. Even in the thick snowfall, I spotted Grandma heading to the ice hotel. We followed.
“I don’t like this.” Mackenzie hurried forward. “What’s Ariadne doing?”
It was still dark outside and snowy halos glowed around the lights. I’d always loved snow, the way it made the world seem so fresh and new. But after everything that had happened here, I felt as if the snow had created a barrier between us and the outside world.
The ice cathedral was ahead. At first I’d found it strange that the resort created a church of ice. Shauna told me couples paid big bucks to get married in what the Winter Wonder Resort called its ice cathedral – even though it was the same size as the little country church in my hometown. The first time I visited the cathedral I completely understood why it was such a big deal. The ice and snow gleamed in the twinkling lights that framed the interior. It was what I imagined heaven looked like. Sven had created a simple square ice altar with an amazing matching cross over it. But Sven’s best work by far in the entire resort was a massive intricate icicle chandelier that hung in the centre of the cathedral. It was like a starry snowflake. You could look at it for ever and see some new detail every time. As I passed the ice cathedral, I was sure I saw the front door close. Is that where Blake had gone?
I stopped and suddenly felt the tug-of-war of common sense on one side and adventure on the other. I should follow Mackenzie who was following Grandma. The smart thing to do would be to tell Grandma and let her handle it. I took two steps towards the ice hotel, and then stopped again. The smart thing wasn’t always my favourite option. I pivoted and headed towards the ice cathedral. Adventure always wins.
I slowly opened the front door to the cathedral an inch and peered inside. It looked empty. Maybe I’d only imagined the door closing. The snow and ice blended into a blanket of white and made it difficult to see sometimes. I yanked open the door and realized I was too late.
Blake was sprawled in the centre aisle. I rushed to him. That’s when I saw smudges of red nearby. Blood. The blood-stained object took shape: it was a huge icicle. I followed the trail of blood to his head. His hair was matted with it.
“Blake, are you OK?” I bent down next to him. “Who did this to you?”
His eyelids fluttered open.
“Blake, it’s Chase. What happened?”
His eyebrows crunched together as if he couldn’t understand what I was saying.
He mumbled something. I leaned in so my ear was close to his lips.
“Revenge,” he whispered. His hot breath tickled my ear.
“Revenge? What do you mean?” Did he mean he wanted revenge or did someone attack him to take revenge?
His eyelids drooped and then closed. Heat drained from my body. Was he dead? I removed one of my gloves and checked his neck for a pulse. His body was warm and I felt the thump of his heartbeat against my fingers. He was still alive. Relief flashed through me but only for a second.
I heard rustling at the back of the cathedral. I had been so intent on helping Blake that I didn’t consider that the killer might still be here. There was someone, wearing the same snow gear as I was, standing with his back to me. I didn’t think. I staggered towards the killer. Why was my instinct to always run head first into danger?
“Hey!” I shouted. Goggles covered half the killer’s face and a black scarf covered the other half. I stopped a few feet away as I realized what the killer was doing. I followed the line of the rope in his hand up to the ceiling. He was untying the rope that secured the massive ice chandelier that hung right over Blake’s unconscious body. What I thought was a heavenly snowflake transformed into a deadly weapon with spiky shards that would slice and dice Blake into a million pieces if it fell.
I was halfway between the killer and his victim. I spun around and dived for the baseball-bat-shaped icicle that had been used to knock Blake unconscious, just as the killer released the rope. It whizzed through the pulley, screeching as it went.
I snatched the icicle and swung it wide as the chandelier plummeted towards Blake. My icy bat connected with the chandelier, knocking it clear of Blake and shattering both into a million pieces. I used my body to shield Blake from the deadly shards that rained down.
When the ice storm stopped, the cathedral was empty. I considered racing after the killer, but I couldn’t leave Blake alone.
“Help!” I screamed. “Someone help me!”
As I brushed the ice from Blake, I spotted a note clutched in his hand. I prised it out of his fingers. Meet me at 7 a.m. in the cathedral. So the killer lured Blake here.
I grabbed one of the spiky icicles that had once been part of the chandelier and stood over Blake. I was ready if the killer returned. I continued to yell for help.
Revenge. The word made me think of my mother. It had landed my mom in prison.
The door burst open. I shrieked like those stupid girls in horror movies. It was high-pitched and started at my toes, shuddered through my body and filled every millimetre of the ice cathedral. I cocked my arm ready to swing at the killer with all my might.
“Chase, it’s me. It’s Grandma.” She charged down the aisle. The fear from moments ago drained away. The killer was gone. I was safe and so was Blake.
Grandma wasn’t alone. Mackenzie, Sven, Shauna, Mr Ashworth and the security guards, the ones who were supposed to be guarding Lucinda’s body, had barrelled in behind Grandma.
“Are you OK?” Grandma held me at arm’s length and searched me from head to toe.
“I’m fine.” I stepped aside so everyone could see Blake’s body. “But he’s not.”
Grandma knelt down by Blake and gently inspected his injuries. “He needs medical help immediately.”
Mr Ashworth spoke Swedish to the guards and they dashed off. “The resort has one vehicle that might be able to make it to the hospital. They are going to get it now. I’ve also asked them to alert Blake’s grandfather.”
Everyone gathered around, and I explained what happened. Mackenzie glared at me the entire time. When I finished, one security guard returned with Blake’s grandfather. The other returned a few minutes later with this huge vehicle that was half SUV and half tractor. It had treads like a tank.
Mr Johnson held his grandson’s hand as the guards carried Blake out and loaded him into the monster truck. Grandma made Mr Johnson promise to update us on Blake’s conditio
n.
“I need one of you to take Blake to the hospital and the other to stay here,” Mr Ashworth explained to them.
“Both of us will go,” one security guard said. “We didn’t sign up for dead bodies.” They hopped into the cab of the vehicle.
“No! No! One of you must stay here!” Mr Ashworth pounded on the side of the vehicle. Its engine roared. Mr Ashworth stepped back as it lurched forward. “At least let’s hope they can make it to the hospital.” He turned to Grandma and Shauna. “I’ll call and update the police and see if we can’t get an officer here soon. I’ll ask my staff to deliver breakfast to each of the guests. We have no choice but to tell the guests to stay in their rooms until further notice. I’ll draft a statement to distribute to everyone. We’ll tell them it’s for their own safety and due to the hazardous weather conditions. I’ll organize the staff into teams and lead patrols of the resort.”
“Thanks, Mr Ashworth,” Grandma said.
Mackenzie punched me hard in the arm.
“Ouch!” I flinched away from her. “What was that for?”
“You left me.” She punched me again, and I let her. It was a rotten thing to have done.
I rubbed my arm. “Sorry.”
She punched me a few more times, but her blows had lost their power. “You could have been killed.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. She was right. I trembled with the knowledge of what might have happened.
“From now on, we stick together,” she said. “No matter what. Do you understand?”
I nodded. She was sort of scary when she wanted to be.
“I want you girls go to your room,” Grandma said in her most bossy voice. “Maybe you could use this time to catch up with your schoolwork.”
My dad had promised my school that I’d keep up with my studies online. Who could think of geometry or history at a time like this?
“But…” I started.
She continued to talk right over me. “Go to your room and lock the door.” She glared at us. “I mean it. I don’t want you poking around, looking in dumpsters or talking to anyone. This is serious.”
Duh. She didn’t know me at all if she thought I could be so easily sidelined. We could help. I knew we could. If it wasn’t for me, Blake would be dead. I decided not to mention that fact.
“Sven, please escort Chase and Mackenzie to their room,” Grandma said. “Girls, do not leave your room under any circumstances.”
I knew there was no use arguing with her. We followed Sven to the lodge. Grandma didn’t mean for us to hear it, but her voice swirled through the snowflakes. “What are we going to do, Shauna? Why is this happening? We are stranded here with a killer.”
Revenge. I knew why it was happening, but what I didn’t want to think about was … what would happen next.
“We’ve done it your way,” Mackenzie said as she switched on her computer and sat down at the desk. “Now we do it mine.”
“What’s your way?” I quipped. “We send our suspects strongly worded emails?” I flopped on the bed.
“We’ve been going about this randomly,” she said, without taking her eyes off her computer screen. “We need to think things through logically.”
I thought there was a dig at me in there somewhere. “OK. So what do you suggest?”
“We make a grid—”
I interrupted, “Oooo, a grid.”
She glared at me. “Do you want to find out who is behind this or do you want to crack jokes?”
I shrugged. “I think I can multi-task, as you might say.” I stood behind her.
“Motive, means and opportunity,” Mackenzie said as she typed the titles into each column of the grid on her computer. “We create our suspect list and then assess if they could have done it and why.”
“We know it has something to do with Ingenium International College,” I said. Every terrible thing that had happened was swirling inside me. My body was vibrating with it. I started to pace. “Lucinda, Alexia, Mr Ashworth, Blake, TnT and loads of the guests have connections to that school.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?” I shouted. “I’m being logical.”
“You are jumping in at the middle,” she explained. “Let’s go through our suspects one by one.”
I groaned. This was going to take for ever. We were stuck in here while the killer was escaping, or worse yet planning another murder. “Shall I list them alphabetically by height or favourite colour?”
“Stop taking the mickey.”
“What?” Sometimes we really did speak different languages.
“Stop making fun of me. If you give my way a chance, we could solve the murder without disobeying Ariadne.”
She was right and that burned even more. “Where do we start?”
“Everyone’s a suspect until we rule them out.”
“That’s going to be a pretty long list.” It felt pretty hopeless, but I kept moving and thinking.
Mackenzie stared at her computer screen, her hands poised over the keys. “We can’t possibly know everyone’s motives, but we can look at means and opportunity.”
My face scrunched in confusion.
“Who had the ability and the opportunity to commit the crimes?”
Three short and sharp knocks on the door made us jump. “Are you girls OK in there?” Sven called through the door. Grandma must have asked him to check on us.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” I called. “What about Sven?” I whispered to her.
She typed his name at the top of the chart. “Means?”
“He’s young. He’s strong. He owns those scary looking carving tools. He knows this place because he helped build it.”
She typed everything I said in the grid. “Opportunity?” she asked.
“He constructed the ice bed where Lucinda was found?” I said.
“And he was one of the first to arrive at the ice cathedral when you were screaming for help.”
“What about poisoning Alexia?” I asked. “Did you see him at the party?”
“No, but he could have sprinkled on the fish flakes earlier. And just because we didn’t see him doesn’t mean he wasn’t there. The problem with this place is that we all look the same in our Winter Wonder snow gear.”
“He doesn’t have any connection to Ingenium International College,” I added and walked behind her so I could see what she was doing.
“That we know of.” She typed furiously.
We both gasped when a mugshot of Sven appeared on the computer screen. We must have been louder than I thought, because Sven knocked on the door again. “What is going on?” he called and jiggled the door handle.
Did he have a master key? “We’re changing clothes!” I called and pressed my body against the door as if that might stop him. We didn’t need him barging in and seeing his name at the top of our suspect list.
“OK. Sorry.”
I looked through the peep hole. He sat down across from our door and closed his eyes. He was standing guard. Had Grandma asked him too? He didn’t seem too bothered that a killer was on the loose. Maybe because he was the killer. I tiptoed to Mackenzie.
“Sven Thomsen,” she whispered, “was convicted of breaking and entering when he was a kid. He was sentenced to a rehabilitation program, which seemed to turn his life around. In the last few years, he’s won loads of awards for his ice sculptures.”
“How can you possibly know all that? His mugshot and criminal history can’t be on the internet.”
She smirked. “You can find almost anything if you know where and how to look.”
Sven wasn’t the only criminal around. I was pretty sure that Mackenzie was breaking a few laws. Having a hacker as my best friend was proving to be very helpful.
“Any connection to Ingenium?” I asked.
“Not that I can find.”
“Any connection to Alexia, Lucinda or Blake?”
“Nothing.”
“So he’s an ex-con, but not a killer.
”
“We can’t rule him out. He has plenty of means and opportunity.”
“But no motive.”
“That’s the tough part. He’s got no motive that we can find, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.”
“Who’s our next suspect?”
“Katrina has a motive even if we don’t know what it is.” Mackenzie typed Katrina Memering under Sven’s name. “We saw her fighting with Alexia and later cuddling Blake. Who are you, Katrina Memering?” Mackenzie’s fingers flew over the keyboard. She clicked on links, opened databases, processing the info and moving on before I could understand what she’d done. If there was a world championship of hacking, I bet she’d win the top prize.
“Very strange,” Mackenzie muttered.
“What?” I said. Mackenzie didn’t seem to hear me. “What?!” I said it louder this time.
“All I can find is information on her current job, articles she’s written for a variety of magazines and clients. I can’t find any connection to Ingenium International College or anything more than a few years old.”
This reminded me of my struggle to find out more about my mom. “What if she’s like Ariadne? Ariadne uses her maiden name. What if Memering is her married name or her mom’s maiden name or a name she made up?”
I paced the room again. Mackenzie clicked and tapped madly for a few minutes. “You are a genius!”
I smiled. No one had ever called me that before.
“I searched variations on the name Katrina and then checked birth certificates based on the bio on her website then I cross-referenced social media with—”
I stopped in front of her. “Yeah, yeah, but what did you find?”
“Katrina Memering used to go by the name of Trina Blanchett, and I need a drum roll please…”
“Get on with it!”
“Trina Blanchett went to Ingenium at the same time as Alexia and Blake.”
“You are a genius!” I said as we high fived.
“Means and opportunity?” Mackenzie asked.
My excitement fizzled. “She couldn’t have sabotaged the dogsled. She arrived after that happened.”