Chilled by Death (23 page)

All indications said he’d been drugged before freezing to death. The drugs were still frozen in his bloodstream. Tox screen was in progress. She appreciated the professional courtesy.

Her heart sinking, she sat back slightly so she could text back asking him to connect with the police here, explaining about the missing woman and the drugs in the wine.

She looked up, caught her brother’s gaze, and gave a subtle head motion towards the other room. She stood up and took her coffee with her. Thankfully, she’d finished eating. “I’m going to go sit by the fire.” She turned her back and walked casually to the living room where she chose a seat furthest away from the others. She heard footsteps and knew her brother was coming. She had her phone out and decided to give James the other few details and explained more about Yvonne’s disappearance and their belongings being searched. She knew he’d freak. That Stevie and Mark were being super quiet told her they already understood how big a mess they were mired in.

George sat down beside her. Royce came and sat on the other side. She should have known.

“What’s up, Stacy?” her brother asked.

“The man we found?” She glanced between them to make sure with all that had happened, that they remembered who she spoke about.

They both nodded. “He was drugged but ultimately died from exposure.”

Royce sat back, a gentle
shit
slipping from his lips.

George stared at her. “Drugged,” he asked softly. “Do we know what drugs?”

“Not yet. I’ve told James about what just happened to us. He’s in contact with local law enforcement here. They’ll try to see if the drugs were the same as the ones we were given. He’s also limited to the goodwill of the local police. Remember, we’re in a different country.”

“So what – are we thinking that man was murdered?”

“Well, if he was drugged and then died, he sure as hell was,” George said, “But that doesn’t mean it was intentional. If any of us had gone outside last night, it could have ended up with the same result.”

“Are we really thinking we have…what…a serial drugging going on here?” Royce shook his head. “That sounds too bizarre.”

“I suspect the drugging is just a means to an end,” Stacy said quietly. “I just don’t know what the end result is.” But she was afraid she did. Kidnapping. But for what purpose, she had no clue.

“And Yvonne?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe she opened a bottle of wine and had several glasses before going back out for a few runs.”

“Hell,” Royce whispered. “That’s all too possible.”

“So what gives?” They’d been talking so low that she hadn’t realized the rest of their friends had come to stand around them, worry on their faces.

George quickly filled them in.

Instead of surprised shock, there was mostly silence.

After a moment, Stevie said, “Not good.”

“Are we thinking that the drugs were more of a prank then? With this dead guy just deciding to go for a walk in his drunken, drugged stupor? Neither scenario is likely, surely.” Kathleen asked, curling up close to George. She shuddered. George tugged her closer.

“I’m not sure yet,” Stacy said seriously. “First we’re checking that the drugs used on him were the same that were used on us.”

“That’s horrible.” Stevie threw himself onto the closest chair. “I came for a chance to rip down some runs, not get my ass drugged,” he mumbled.

Stacy snorted. “And I came to finally get a holiday.”

“A busman’s holiday,” Geoffrey said with a snigger.

There was no arguing that.

*

Royce hated the
thought of what was going on. They needed to shift the energy of the place but at the same time, he wanted to do a thorough search of everyone’s stuff himself. He figured he might get a little resistance on that. George would agree with him. The cops were likely to come back here as well.

Then Stacy did it. “I’m going to take my camera outside and find something beautiful to photograph. Maybe that will make me feel better.”

“Not alone,” Royce snapped.

She glared at him. “I didn’t get a chance to finish. I was going to suggest that we all get out. Go boarding. Catch a few runs. Something to change this uber depressed energy we are all feeling.”

“If we have energy for that,” Geoffrey said sharply, “then we have energy to go and rejoin the search for Yvonne.”

“We aren’t allowed to,” George said, quietly. “They don’t know the effects of the drugs. They don’t want us out there in case they have to turn around and rescue us.”

“Then for the same reason, boarding and skiing are out.”

Stevie looked at George for confirmation. At his nod, he groaned. “This is not the holiday I planned.”

“It’s not the holiday any of us planned,” Kathleen said.

“What about driving to the village and spending the afternoon walking around, have lunch out, do coffee. Something to get us out of here, but not enough to zap our strength?”

“Another consideration,” Christine said, “is the police. Are we allowed to go anywhere or do we have to stay cooped up here?”

Silence.

“Damn if I know,” Stacy said. “I’m presuming they got what they needed from us so we can leave. If they need more, they’ll come back or contact us at home. In the meantime, I need some fresh air.” She got up and walked over to the boot room. “I know it would be foolish to go alone, so does anyone want to go with me?”

“I’m coming,” Royce said in a hard voice.

She shrugged. “Fine, thank you.”

“Aren’t you going to bring your camera?” he asked curiously. “It’s still upstairs, isn’t it?”

She exhaled noisily. “Damn it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You might want to acknowledge that you aren’t a hundred percent yet.”

“I know. But I need to get out. To get away.” She motioned to the somber group sitting around the fire. “I don’t want to do that all day.”

“I’ll go get your bag.” He could get there easier than she could. He figured he’d take her out to the hillside and they could sit in the sun and enjoy a few minutes’ respite. “Then we’ll take a walk.”

Up in the loft, he grabbed up her stuff, took a quick look around to see if there was anything else she needed, and saw something odd sticking out from under Stacy’s blankets. He bent down for a closer look.

A syringe. He pulled his sleeve down over his hand and picked it up. He sniffed the tip end but couldn’t smell anything. He held it up to the tiny bit of light and realized there was still a little bit left inside. Stacy had a makeup bag on her bed, and he dumped it out and carefully placed the syringe inside. He didn’t want the others to know about it.

He knew Stacy wouldn’t have been the one spiking the wine bottles, but that was likely to be the immediate reasoning of the rest of the group. She knew drugs. They’d been here all afternoon, so she had opportunity.

He did too if he looked at it that way. Some could say he’d tucked it under Stacy’s bed to throw suspicion on her, whereas sleeping up here like he had last night gave him access to her sleeping space. He hated to think of his friends turning on him, but there was no doubt that he was double questioning those he’d called a
friend
himself.

Except George. He’d never hurt his sister, and he’d been furious that anyone might hurt Kathleen. Stevie and Mark on the other hand had just as much knowledge of drugs as Stacy did. They could have come back any time and spiked the wine bottles themselves.

But why? The two men worked with Stacy every day. They’d have had lots of opportunity to drug her.

Then he remembered the stalker that Stacy had felt in the bushes yesterday. What if that person was making sure she was there and not in the cabin so they could put the drugs in the wine? And through a syringe, no less. He slipped the makeup bag under his shirt and walked downstairs.

“Oh, Royce has it bad. Now he’s even the gopher,” Christine teased.

Royce laughed. “We won’t be long, and we’ll keep the cabin in sight the whole time we’re out,” he promised. “If anyone cares to join us, feel free.”

“Like we’d be welcome,” scoffed Stevie.

“Actually you would be,” Stacy said from the boot room doorway. “Especially if you come in an hour or so and bring coffee.”

*

Stupid idiots. Look
at them, too scared to do anything. Looking sideways at each other wondering if one of their friends had just fucked them over.

He smiled inside.

Oh happy days. This was an extra bit of fun he hadn’t expected.

Well worth repeating though. Watching this close-knit group slowly fall apart. Soon they’d turn on each other like rabid dogs and start attacking.

He couldn’t wait.

They had no idea what was coming.

But they would soon.

Fools.

S
tacy stopped at
the crest of the hill and breathed deep. Then did it again. She couldn’t believe how stifling the cabin had begun to feel. How difficult the atmosphere. She suspected that with her and Royce gone, there’d be talk about them. As long as no one suspected them for this wine-doping scenario, she was fine with the talk. Expected it even. After all, humans loved to gossip.

“Feel better?” Royce asked quietly.

“Much.” She tilted her head back and let the sun hit her face. “It was getting hard to take in there.”

“I agree.”

She stilled. There was an odd note in his voice. Without trying to make it obvious, she studied his face. Worry tensed his features as he stared blankly ahead. Something was going on behind those magnetic eyes.

“What’s wrong,” she asked.

He opened his mouth to say something, and she cut him off. “Don’t lie.”

The look on his face was both comical and affronted. “Sorry,” she rushed to assure him, “I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded. I would just prefer to know everything. I can’t deal if I don’t have all the facts.”

In a subtle furtive movement, he checked around them to make sure they were alone. She watched curiously. “What is it?”

“When I went to get your camera bag,” he said, pulling out her makeup bag from inside his coat, “I found this almost under your bed. As if you may have dropped it.”

“My makeup bag?” She frowned. “I thought I left it on my bed.”

“You did. I dumped the contents on the bed so I could use the bag.” He motioned toward it. “Open carefully.”

She unzipped the pouch while he continued to watch the area. And saw the syringe. “Oh my God.”

She blinked several times as she processed the implications.

“Is it possible I was injected with the drugs?” she wondered.

“Possible, but unless you can find an injection site, I doubt it. I figured it was likely the method of getting the drugs in the sealed wine bottles. People might have noticed an uncorked bottle or one that had been opened and re-corked – and only maybe on that issue as with so many of us, they’d have assumed someone else opened it. But no one would have noticed a tiny pinprick through the top of it.”

She closed her eyes. “Shit. That took some planning. And do you think leaving this bit of evidence beside my bed was on purpose? Or did it fall from the perp’s pocket while searching my room?”