“Interested in one of our tours?” the sales lady asked. “We’re offering discounted rates if you book any of our all day packages.”
“Actually, I’m looking for Nathan,” I said. “Someone told me I could find him here today.”
“Nathan?” the woman frowned. “He’s supposed to be guiding a snowmobile tour in five minutes. I guess if you really need to talk to him you can find him loading the truck out back.”
She pointed towards a door marked STAFF. I went through it and entered a large loading bay full of rental gear. A black-haired First Nations guy in his early thirties pushed a large snowmobile towards a large truck backed up to the loading bay. When he had the snowmobile positioned in front of the ramp, he climbed onto it and gunned the throttle, coaxing the vehicle up the steep angle and onto the wide bed of the truck.
“Nathan Rivers?” I asked after he cut the engine.
The guy climbed off the snowmobile and began lashing it to anchor points on the truck bed.
“Depends who’s asking,” he said. “If it’s about that asshole who got beat up at Buffalo Bill’s the other night, I already told the cops it was a freak accident how he fell onto my fist like that. Ask anyone there that night, and they’ll tell you the same.”
“Eric sent me,” I said softly.
That got his attention. Nathan hopped down off the truck and looked me up and down. There was an awkward silence while we sized each other up. One of us had to let on that we knew a little more than the average person was supposed to, but that required more trust than people like us were willing to extend to a total stranger.
“How do you know Eric?” he asked. “If he told you I could hook you up with a free spot on one of my trips if you slept with him, he was lying.”
I tapped my forearm. “I told him I liked his tattoo.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed in distrust. He walked over to the second snowmobile and got on. Instead of powering it up, he sat back and stared me down a little harder.
“He showed you his tattoo?” he asked.
I nodded.
“So what do you want to talk to me about then?” He fired up the snowmobile and drove it up onto the truck. “I can’t think of anything I could help you with that he couldn’t.”
Not wanting to be overheard by another employee, I followed Nathan up the ramp and sat on the first snowmobile while he secured the second.
“Eric suggested you might have a theory about whatever’s stirring up the local wildlife,” I said. Then, more quietly. “And about what caused that avalanche up on Whistler yesterday.”
“You had something to do with that?”
“Not directly,” I told him. “But I think it was aimed at the person I’ve been hired to protect. What do you know about Winston Bloedermeyer and his daughter?”
Nathan leaned over the side of the truck and spat on the ground. “Man, fuck that guy. Asshole would clearcut the whole forest for a hundred miles if he thought it’d make him a few bucks. That development is pushing too damn far into sacred land. As if this place isn’t already ruined from rich jackasses building mansions all over the place.”
“Safe to say you’re not a fan?”
“No one except resort shareholders and people with more money than brains like Bloedermeyer,” Nathan said. “You hear what he did at Featherstone resort in the interior? That place was a beautiful exception to the overpriced corporate bullshit most resorts have become over the last couple of decades. He turned it into a shopping mall. No one even goes there to ski anymore. It’s all just spas and high-end retailers in the middle of nowhere. They had to build a second heliport just to accommodate the extra helicopters shuttling escorts and caviar into the resort.”
I was quickly learning that half the people living and working in the area had reason to hate Bloedermeyer. How many of those people had the ability to use magic to do more than try to scare him off, though? Based on what I’d seen so far, someone was out to hurt not just the developer but his daughter as well. I’m sure I couldn’t throw a snowball in the village without hitting someone who wanted to run Bloedermeyer out of town. But would any of them be angry enough to resort to murder just to stop a development?
“Do you think it’s possible someone is stirring up trouble of a…” I hesitated, still unsure how much trust I was willing to extend to this guy.
Screw it. Who else was I going to turn to for help?
“You’re going to say supernatural, aren’t you?” Nathan filled in for me. “Did Eric tell you anything about the mountain spirit residing within Whistler?”
“Only that his people have no record of it being active since they began operating in the region,” I said. “That’s why he sent me to you. He thought you might know more about it.”
Nathan ran his hand through his hair. His posture softened somewhat. Angry fire still burned in his eyes, but his jaw had softened. Thankfully, he looked a lot less like he wanted to knock my head from my shoulders as reward for my association with Bloedermeyer.
“There’s little to say,” he said earnestly. “My great-grandfather began passing our people’s lore to me even before I was old enough to understand what he was doing. His great-grandfather did the same before him, as did his great-grandfather before him. Ours is an oral history, crafted into stories and legends that retain the truth of the spirits around us for those who know how to read between the lines. The mountain spirit is as ancient as the world itself. Even I know next to nothing about its true nature.”
“Can you think of any reason it would act so maliciously?” I asked. “Something up there tried to kill me when it realized I was protecting Nicola. I wouldn’t think I’d rate that high on a mountain spirit’s hit list. Bloedermeyer’s development is north of the village. Why would Whistler rouse itself after all these years if it wasn’t directly threatened?”
“That’s beyond my knowing,” Nathan said solemnly. “Wild spirits are unpredictable. They act of their own volition and with seeming randomness.”
“So you don’t think someone is controlling the spirit? Could someone have woken the mountain to have it attack us?”
Nathan laughed. “Are you kidding me? You’d have a better chance of lifting the entire mountain with your bare hands. You’re what, a witch? Think of the most powerful practitioner you’ve ever met. Their power is equivalent to a single snowflake at the mercy of the blizzard that is the mountain’s strength. There’s no controlling a spirit like that.”
“Unless there was something older and more powerful exerting influence on it?”
Nathan went quiet. He bent over and began fiddling with an already locked down strap. After retying the tail three times, he swore and stood up again.
“That’s not possible,” he said flatly. “Something as strong as what you’re suggesting would destroy us all in the blink of an eye if it wanted to be rid of Bloedermeyer and his development. It would simply level the entire resort to return it to its natural state.”
I looked him straight in the eye, trying to read his reaction to what I said next. “I talked to a vampire the other day who said he felt a growing darkness. Maybe things are worse than any of us know.”
“I’m not ready to accept that. What you’re talking about is crazy. There’s nothing in our lore like what you’re suggesting.” Nathan hopped down off the truck bed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m late to pick up my clients. My boss is going to have my ass if she finds out I missed a tour because I was delayed by some chick.”
“There’s got to be something you can tell me,” I pleaded as he unlocked the ramp legs to slot them into the base of the truck bed. “Is there anyone who might know more about this? Someone is sabotaging machinery, and I don’t think a mountain spirit or enchanted animal could manage it without sprouting opposable thumbs.”
Nathan slammed the tailgate in place and went around to the driver’s side door. He opened it and climbed up into the cab, hesitating with his hand on the door handle.
“Ther
e’s a… creature that lives in the woods around here,” he said. “Most people think it’s only a legend, but my father claimed he’d seen it while hunting as a young boy.”
“You’re shitting me,” I breathed. “There’s a yeti living around here?”
“Sasquatch,” he corrected. “Yeti live in the Himalayas. And I’m not saying it’s real. Just that it’s something you might want to look into. There’s always a kernel of truth to these legends. I can’t speak to what truth you’ll actually find if you go looking, but it might get you a step closer to finding out who or what is sabotaging Bloedermeyer’s equipment.”
Nathan slammed the door shut and started the truck. I had no choice but to step back and duck out of the way of the loading bay door when it closed behind him.
For the first time since taking this job, things were starting to look interesting. I wanted to go straight back to the chalet to gear up for a proper sasquatch hunt, but first I had a stop to make.
“Mr. Bloedermeyer will see you now,” the receptionist informed me.
I’d been made to wait nearly half an hour before being let into Bloedermeyer’s office. When I finally stepped into the room, I saw a man run ragged. His expression was drawn. Dark circles had formed under his eyes in the two days since I’d last seen him. His hair was uncharacteristically ruffled, as though he’d run his hands through it one too many times. The lights on his phone blinked rapidly with voicemails and incoming calls, but he ignored them and gestured for me to take a seat.
“Everything okay with Nicola?” he asked.
“She’s at home sleeping. There was a party last night, and I think she had a bit too much to drink,"
Winston Bloedermeyer clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say anything. His daughter’s partying didn’t seem to be news to him, so I didn’t press the point. Instead, I considered how much to tell him about what I’d experienced since taking the job. Would he believe an avalanche and rabid animals attacking his daughter were real threats instead of just freak acts of nature? Without a human face to put to the danger, I didn’t think someone so grounded in the business world would take me seriously without some kind of evidence.
“I’m convinced you were right to hire me,” I said. “Someone is definitely trying to get to you through your daughter.”
Bloedermeyer sat up straighter, leaning forward on the desk with both hands clutched tightly together.
“Has something happened?” he asked. “Has she been harmed?”
“She’s fine,” I said. “Whoever is out to get you is clever enough to act from a distance, though. I can’t put my finger on exactly where the threat is originating, but there have been several suspicious near-accidents that could very well have proven fatal had I not been there to protect your daughter.”
The man let out a sigh. He looked ten years older than he had when I’d last seen him in his home office. I wondered if he’d even been home to sleep in his own bed since then. Nicola and I hadn’t exactly been at our most alert when we’d staggered in the night before, but I hadn’t heard anyone other than Ada come or go from the house in the morning.
“There was another incident at the development site yesterday.” Bloedermeyer waved at a pile of reports cluttering his desk. “The gas tank on an excavator spontaneously combusted. The driver was killed, but thank God we’re running a skeleton crew through the winter. Only one other person was mildly injured.”
“Any idea what caused it?”
He shook his head. “The police are looking into it. Something similar happened in the summer, though no one was harmed that time. The best the investigator could figure was that someone had tampered with the gas line, causing it to ignite when it was first turned on. I suspect they’ll discover something similar in this case.”
Bloedermeyer pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. I noticed a slight tremor in his hand when he moved it back to his desk. He jumped a little when the phone rang again, punching the ringer mute button angrily before returning his attention to me.
“Have you considered shutting down the project for a while?” I asked. “From what I’ve learned after asking around a little, half the town would be happy to see this development fail. With a list of suspects that long, someone’s bound to get a lucky shot in on you or your daughter. I’m not even convinced that whoever is sabotaging your equipment is the same person that’s been going after your family.”
“Shut down the project? Are you insane?” he asked. Flecks of spittle formed at the edges of his mouth. “I’ve got all my resources tied up in this expansion, not to mention my reputation. With how much investor money I’ve already put into permits and land purchases, I’d be ruined if I shut down now. No, the project has to go through. It has to.”
I looked out the window to a stunning view of the twin mountains which made up the main resort attraction. The day was bright and clear. A few patches of cloud swirled around the peaks of Whistler and Blackcomb mountains, making them seem more severe than they had when I’d first arrived. Like most people, I’d never thought too much about giant hunks of rock, dirt, and ice having personalities. To those who knew better, there were plenty of natural spirits in the world. If a river or a forest could have a protective spirit watching over it, why not a mountain?
What wasn’t really in question was whether or not the resort could survive the wrath of these mountain spirits should we be stupid enough to piss them off even more. I had no doubt we’d only seen a fraction of the power the mountain spirits contained. It was far too easy to envision crevasses opening beneath gondola support towers. Whole mountain avalanches sweeping down the slope to crush everything in their path. Landslides that could very well dump the entire village infrastructure into the river below.
“You’re committed to this enterprise, even if it puts your daughter at further risk of harm?” I asked.
Bloedermeyer slammed his fist down on the desk. “Dammit, that’s what I hired you to prevent! Are you saying you’re not up to the task? You’re not irreplaceable you know. I don’t care how highly recommended you came. If you can’t protect my daughter, I’ll find someone who can!”
I kept my voice even and calm while I stood up. “I can protect your daughter. Things are going to get worse before they get better, though. If you’re not willing to at least put the project on hold for a few months, you’d do well to prepare yourself for more attacks on the job site and on your person.”
“That is my business,” he spat. “Now go home to safeguard my daughter and leave me to my work.”
I knew when I was wasting my time. Happy to put an end to the discussion, I walked out of his office and set out to check up on Nicola.
Chapter Eleven
Bloedermeyer had been right about one thing. I shouldn’t have left Nicola alone as long as I had. Nothing had triggered the wards I’d left around the house, and I’d given Ada my phone number along with a request for her to keep an eye on Nicola while I was gone. It was only mid-morning, so the girl was hopefully still asleep. She’d put away an impressive amount of vodka the night before, still wobbling drunkenly when I eventually coaxed her up to her room and into bed. With her too drunk to drive, and my face too swollen from the pepper spray to focus, we had to get a ride home with Eric the Chronicler. I’d meant to get some kind of contact information from him, but he’d left before I’d had a chance to ask.
Rather than walking along the road to get back to the chalet, I turned off onto a recently plowed path that cut through the band of woods between the village and the Bloedermeyer’s chalet. Plows had been running non-stop since I’d arrived. ATVs with large shovel attachments had cleared the pathway down to a layer of firmly packed snow which was quite pleasant to walk on. With blue skies overhead, it was actually nice to stretch my legs in the fresh air. The temperature was still quite low, but the sun warmed my face while I walked. A few pedestrians passed me on their way into the village. Some clutched boards or skis, others were dressed like they were heading i
n for a shift at one of the stores or restaurants. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood.
For the first time since arriving in Whistler, I could understand why people chose to live there. If someone could manage to eke out a living despite how wildly expensive it was, they’d be sitting right in the heart of one of the most beautiful winter landscapes I’d ever seen. On a sunny day like this one, it was tough to see the mountains looming around me as anything other than inviting. From the small taste of snowboarding I’d gotten before everything had gone sideways, I could see the appeal of being able to get out and ride every day of the winter. The feeling of flowing down the mountain was Zen-like and addictive. Even after nearly dying only the morning before, I felt the pull of the mountain and the soft, deep snow waiting above.
I rounded a corner and felt a strange disquiet. No one else had come down the path in several minutes, and the woods had become eerily still. The constant whisper of cars whipping past on the narrow Highway 99 cutting through the middle of the resort was gone. No wind whistled through the trees. In fact, they didn’t move at all. Even the crunch of my boots on the snow sounded muted and wrong.
Power flowed into my fingertips with a thought. Simultaneously preparing to cast either a shield or a kinetic blast, I scanned the area. I was in the middle of a small glade, the surrounding pristine white snow sparkling in the sunlight. If anything was going to charge at me from the woods, I’d have at least a few seconds of warning. but only if I knew which direction it was coming from.
I felt, rather than heard the motion above me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, warning me to pivot and look behind me just as a massive winged shape flew towards my head. I ducked and put my arms up to protect my face, opting to cast the shield spell instead of firing wildly at a swiftly moving target. The shape swooped just above me, resolving into a large white owl. It wasn’t until it landed on the path ahead of me that I realized it had flown straight through my shield. I’d poured enough energy into the conjuring to block physical objects as well as magical. Somehow, the owl had passed through the shield as cleanly as if I’d never cast it.
Black Ice (Black Records Book 3) Page 10