Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3)

by Adele Huxley

  I shook my head, still staring at the letter. It didn’t feel right, none of it. It didn’t make any sense. The Paige I knew was flirtatious, sure, but she wasn’t a violent person. Liz was lashing out from a place of fear, not logic. “There’s no way…”

  “You’re telling me she hasn’t come onto you?” she snapped, her eyebrow joining the edge of her bangs.

  A memory of Paige’s body against my own flashed through my mind, the way her eyes had practically begged me to give in. My hesitation was taken for an answer.

  Liz’s expression fell. “Right.” She pushed past me, screaming down the hall. “Henry! I need you. I think the person you’re looking for is going to be pretty easy to find.”

  “Hold on a second. You can’t just…” I had no way to finish that sentence. I realized I’d been wrong about people in the past. Paige very well could be the threat we faced, and if that were true…

  Liz hobbled towards the guest room where I’d put Paige and tested the doorknob, finding it locked. “Get out here!” she shouted, banging her fist on the wooden door. “You think you could get away with this? You almost killed me, you fucking bitch, and for what?”

  Henry came jogging down the hall. “Whoa, what’s going on?”

  “Knock down this door,” Liz snapped. “She’s in there. Inside that room.”

  He looked over Liz’s head to me questioningly. “Is this really what…”

  “Don’t you check with him,” she growled. “I’m telling you, she’s in there. The person who has been threatening me is in that room.”

  Henry tested the knob and then had Liz stand back. After a couple firm kicks, the latch popped free and the door swung open.

  The room was a complete wreck. Sheets torn from the bed, two lamps shattered, extra linens pulled from the closet. The mirror in the en suite bathroom was spider-webbed with fractures, but Paige was nowhere to be seen.

  “Listen, that girl from the bar we told you about claimed she was in some trouble, apparently hiding from some people,” Liz started to say. “Bryan gave her a place to stay last night, and then all this happens…” she gave me a guilty but accusatory look, like I’d forced her into ratting me out.

  Henry stepped into the hall, and barked a couple orders for the others to sweep the perimeter. “Look for footprints under this window here.” He re-entered the room and looked at me seriously. “We’re gonna need to talk to you, son. Separately.”

  ____________

  For the following hour, I sat in the kitchen as Henry and another middle-aged policeman raked me over the coals. I tried to steal glances into the living room where Liz sat, but she refused to meet my eye. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and cradled a cup of tea in her hands.

  I explained all I knew about Paige, the circumstances around our meeting, everything. By the end of the questioning, the deepest exhaustion I’d ever felt sunk into my bones. Between the fight that morning, the accident in the afternoon, and all this, my mind had been through the wringer.

  And what about Liz? I thought as I stifled a yawn. Everything she’s been through, that I put her through. If Paige really is the person behind all this…

  After the police left us alone to confer, they led me into the living room. The fact that I was allowed to sit beside her on the sofa told me that at least they didn’t consider me a suspect.

  “Your stories match up. Of course I can’t say whether or not this girl is the person who has been harassing you, but it’s as good a place to start as any. We’ve got a description of her circulating. We’ll be able to track her down. It’s a small island,” Henry said with a smile.

  I almost protested again, but kept my mouth shut. While I didn’t truly believe she was the stalker, maybe if the police found her, she’d be safe from whatever trouble was following her. I pressed my lips shut and nodded.

  “In the meantime, we’re going to compile a list of every person who has come in and out of this house. The agency the staff works through has conducted background checks, so it shouldn’t take us very long. Liz, if you remember anything else, maybe more details about the person you saw in the forest, you let me know. Sometimes things come back after traumatic events,” he added softly.

  I rubbed Liz’s shoulder, her muscles stiffening under my hand. She didn’t pull away, but I suspected that was only because eight policemen were watching us.

  “You got it, Henry. If you don’t mind, I’d really like to get some rest. It’s been kind of a long day,” she smiled wryly. It earned a couple appreciative chuckles, and they began collecting their things.

  Once we’d escorted everyone out, only two police cruisers remained outside. By the time I’d shut off all the lights and made my way to the bedroom, Liz was by the sink changing the dressing on her wound. I lingered in the doorway of the bathroom, watching her shaking fingers press the adhesive down.

  “The doctor said if I didn’t have such strong abdominal muscles, the wire could’ve gone through to my internal organs,” she said with a sick amusement. I crossed my arms to hide a shudder of horror at the thought. She looked up and grinned, probably enjoying screwing with me a little. “All those planks were good for something, apparently.”

  I cleared my throat and fidgeted. “I’ll… uh, if you want me to sleep in the other room, I will.”

  Liz wasn’t shocked by my offer but shook her head. “No, it’s all right.” She looked at me through the mirror, her expression difficult to read. “I’m not really mad at you. I’m… I don’t know. Disappointed? Confused?”

  “I know,” I replied, picking at my nail. Nothing she could’ve said would’ve made me feel worse than I already did. There was one more thing I needed to pose before we went to bed. “Have you thought about the possibility that it could be a friend of Rick’s doing all of this?”

  She froze, her eyes daggers. “Are you trying to say this is somehow my fault?”

  “No! It’s just… maybe someone who knew Rick is coming after you now, that’s all. It seems like a natural idea. Maybe we should bring it up with Henry,” I shrugged.

  “After all this time? All the way to New Zealand? Come on, now…” she replied dubiously. She turned on the water and held a finger under it, waiting for the water to warm. “I don’t know, Bry. I’m tired of talking about it. Shit, even thinking about it. All I know is I’m exhausted and I need sleep to heal properly.”

  “I completely understand. I’ll let you get ready for bed then,” I replied.

  I was surprised by the sudden tears that formed in my eyes. Looking away before she could catch a glimpse, I left her in the bathroom and went to change.

  I’ve completely let her down. She’s already building up a wall, like she knows she has to protect herself. I’ve spent years trying to show her she can rely on me and… aw, hell.

  After a couple of days spent processing the accident and everything surrounding Paige’s disappearance, Liz and I started to get back to normal. With her injuries, she wasn’t able to train or even exercise that much, which was a blessing in disguise. It meant that for a rare few days, we had more time together than we’d had in months. It was probably the only thing that guided our relationship through that rocky patch.

  Thankfully, the wall I’d felt her beginning to build the night of the accident hadn’t taken shape, I think largely in part to my fake confidence. I reassured her that the police would find Paige, and apologized profusely for not listening to her in the first place. Everything I did was geared towards taking as much of the stress off of her and carrying it myself. It was the least I could do, even if I was scared shitless inside.

  That evening, we even curled up on the sofa to watch a movie for the first time in I can’t remember how long. Cuddled under a blanket together, my arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, it felt almost… normal. As the credits rolled and I stood to turn on the lights, Liz grew somber.

  “Do you think I should go tomorrow?”

  I fixed my expression before tur
ning around. I had to be supportive of her decisions, no matter what misgivings I had. “Do you think you should go? Are you feeling up to it?”

  Liz frowned and twisted gingerly in her seat. “My mobility isn’t what I want it to be, but I think it’s good enough to race.” She gave me a guilty look, opened her mouth, and then clapped it shut.

  “What? Spit it out,” I chuckled. I took a seat on the footstool in front of her, taking her hands in my own.

  She rolled her eyes before continuing, and I could tell she didn’t want to speak her mind. “I just… it’s terrible. I can’t.”

  “Come on, what?”

  “I feel like I should race because my main competitor has had to pull out.” She met my eye, gauging my reaction. “That’s pretty shitty, isn’t it? To think like that?”

  I squeezed her hand and shrugged. “It’s a competition. It’s not like you put her out of the race. You have every right to take advantage of her absence.”

  “But I wished her harm. Bryan,” she said as she leaned back and crossed her arms, “you know I would’ve choked the life outta that chick if I’d gotten a minute alone with her.”

  I laughed despite her serious tone. “I know, but you didn’t. You didn’t do anything to her. Besides, I’m more worried about you. You can’t carry around some weird survival guilt. As long as you, Janet, and the doctor are okay with it, then I’m okay.”

  Liz chewed on her cheek and studied me as she thought. “I don’t see what it could hurt. At the very worst, I pull out a few stitches and discover I’m not race-fit.” Her voice trembled, revealing the genuine worry behind her confidence.

  I stood, making a point to dramatically check the time on my phone. “Well, you’re gonna be hurtin’ tomorrow morning if you don’t go to bed soon.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks coach,” she laughed as I helped her to her feet. “I’ll go get my stuff ready, just in case.”

  “I’m gonna make us some tea before bed,” I called out as I watched her disappear down the hall. That should buy me enough time.

  I waited until I heard the bathroom door click shut before jumping to action. I pulled another red envelope from under the cutting board and headed straight for the front door. Closing it quietly behind, I gingerly made my way up the slippery drive to the police cruiser.

  A young man saw me coming and rolled down his window. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I replied, my breath coming out as a white puff in the light. “I wanted to give this to you guys. It came with a bunch of other get well cards. I think it’s another letter from her stalker.”

  I watched as the policeman opened it, turning on the interior light to read it aloud. “‘Five. So, you’re still alive?’ Christ, okay,” he said.

  “I don’t know how or when it’d come up, but could you not mention this to Liz? I’m trying to keep as much of this from her as possible and…”

  “Yeah, sweet as. I’ll turn this in when I’m done with my shift in a couple hours and pass along the message.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  I tried to make it back to the house before Liz noticed my absence, but I’d taken far too long. As I opened the front door, she was just coming back from the kitchen, her face filled with worry.

  “I called for you and you didn’t answer,” she said shakily.

  “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry,” I said as I shut and locked the door. “I just wanted to check with the guys up there before bed, I should’ve said something.”

  Liz looked at me dubiously before turning back down the hall. “All right, well come to bed.”

  ____________

  A few hours later, well past midnight, I was left staring at the ceiling. Liz snored lightly beside me, her breathing deep, steady, reassuring. Yet a building anxiety grew in my chest the longer I laid there. It felt like a rubber band, twisting and cranking to the point I felt like it was going to snap. With all my bravado, my boasting that I had everything under control, I was scared shitless.

  Before we went to sleep, Liz asked a question that kept running through my mind. “You know what I wonder?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The letters have come sequentially, right? But I never got letter nine. I wonder what happened to it?”

  I’d kissed the top of her head, not trusting my voice at first. “I’m sure it just got lost in the mail or something. Go to sleep, it’s not something you should worry about. It’s probably a good thing you don’t collect the whole set, right?”

  But I did know what had happened to it. Shortly after receiving the seventh, I’d called home and gotten our friend Walt to check the mail. Sure enough, we’d just missed the letter. It’d arrived the day we had left for New Zealand. After walking the old man through the process, I’d gotten him to send me a digital photo of the letter.

  “Nine. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine,” written on the back of another photo. It was the moment I crashed into the orange fence, my career ending accident that shattered my dreams.

  The idling of Janet’s rental car was both comforting and foreboding. Shutting the front door behind me as quietly as I could, I stood in the cold darkness. The air stung my lungs as I breathed slowly, deeply.

  Am I really doing this? I wondered. Am I seriously going to get back on that mountain?

  I’m not ashamed to admit, I nearly turned around and went back inside. It was the momentum of two years that pushed me forward.

  “Little, baby steps. First, I’ll get in the car,” I whispered.

  Janet gave me a squinty smile as I opened the door, the dome light blinding her temporarily. “Morning, sunshine,” she said happily.

  “It’s a miracle I’m up before the sunshine,” I replied.

  Janet frowned as I climbed into the passenger seat. I moved awkwardly to keep my torso rigid, and winced as I was forced to bend. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  I slammed the door shut and exhaled loudly. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, Janet’s face cast in a dim light from the headlights. “No, but I’m doing it anyway.”

  She turned to me, pulling her arm over the back of my headrest. “What you’ve been through, no one would blame you if…”

  “Seriously, I’m fine.” End of story. Please don’t ask again because I might actually change my mind.

  Janet studied my face for a heartbeat and nodded. “All right then. Coffee?” she asked, gesturing to a cup waiting in the cup holder.

  “Christ, woman. When have you ever known me to say no to a free coffee? Or any coffee, for that matter?” I peeled my gloves off, and gripped the paper cup with both hands as she started down the road.

  “I wanted to make sure you had a bit of energy for this morning. You’ve been entirely too lazy the past couple days and I won’t tolerate it.”

  “Oh yeah,” I scoffed. “Four days off, and all that training is shot to hell. Next time I get attacked by some lunatic, I’ll ask them to check with you first, make sure it fits in with your training schedule. Sound good?”

  I’d meant it as a funny response but all too often, I forget people don’t share my dark sense of humor. Even Bryan, who knows and loves me, is still shocked with what I come out with sometimes. My outlook on life is just a product of all the shit I’ve lived through. If I can’t laugh at it, then I’m not sure I could continue functioning.

  The dark sky slowly softened with each passing second. I loved watching the morning light chase away the night. I’d always found daybreak to be so pure and personal. The sharp edges of the mountain on the other side of the lake glowed white with fresh snow as we descended into Queenstown.

  “Have they gotten any leads on her yet?” Janet asked somberly.

  I tugged at my knit hat. “No, nothing. Apparently disappeared into thin air. As far as they can tell, she hasn’t left the country yet.”

  “This is all assuming she wasn’t using a different identity,” Janet added.

  “Precisely.”

  There was a p
ause in the conversation as I felt Janet glance at me. “Nicole is gonna pull through. Apparently she has full mobility in her legs, no lasting damage.”

  A weight I wasn’t aware of lifted from my conscience. I didn’t like the woman but I never wished her permanent injury. Plus, the fact she’d recover left me feeling less guilty about carrying on. “Good,” I whispered. “That’s really good.”

  I’d learned early on in life that the idea of fake it ‘til you make it actually works. Acting confident is more than half the battle. If you keep up the appearance long enough, you’ll eventually start believing it yourself. So that’s why, the entire way there, a small mantra echoed through my mind.

  I’m strong enough. I can do this. I’m strong enough. I will do this.

  By the time we reached the lodge, the very tips of the Remarkables were painted with bright sunlight. I appreciated Janet’s concern for me, but she also wasn’t the kind of person to handle me with kid gloves. When I said I was good to go, she took my word for it. As we pulled up to the lodge, we were laughing and joking like nothing had happened, just getting ready for another day out on the slopes. I was so relaxed that when we walked into the locker room, I didn’t hesitate a bit.

  “I was thinking we could work on the slalom first this morning. If you’re going to race, we need to know how much turning and movement you can actually do,” Janet said as she set her bag down on the bench.

  “Yeah, makes sense.” I pulled off my jacket and twisted side to side gingerly. “It’s not bad, just a little sore.”

  “Can I see?” Janet asked, glancing at my torso.

  “You freak,” I laughed. I pulled up my shirt and peeled the taped gauze away from the wound. The skin around the sutures looked good, like it was healing well. “It was really red a couple days ago, but it’s much better now.”

  Janet stood and flashed her own flat, taut stomach, revealing a curved scar just above her pelvis. “They opened up the original incision when I had Jaden. I love my scars,” she said as she traced the line of it with her finger. “They’re reminders of pain we’ve survived, struggles that didn’t kill us.”