Wake to Darkness (12 page)

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Authors: Maggie Shayne

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Wake to Darkness
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I frowned, looking toward the open bathroom door. He wasn’t in there. And our sheafs of papers and notes were gone. My laptop was closed and sitting out of the way on the dresser across the room. Yeah, he’d slipped out on me. The dirty rat.

The knocking came again, and I groaned, “Go away, I’m sleeping.”

“Come on, Aunt Rache! Get up.” It was Misty, sounding far too cheerful for this ungodly hour. “Everyone’s getting ready but you.”

Getting ready for
what?
was the question.

I flung my covers back and dragged my pajama-clad ass to the bedroom door, shoving my hands through my hair, which was probably standing on end as it tended to before the first comb of the day. Yeah, tangles entrapped my fingers. Ugh. Finally I opened the door, leaned on it and yawned in my niece’s face.

“What’s the emergency, Misty?”

“We’re going to the Northstar for breakfast, and then we’re skiing.” She said it like one would say, “We just won the lottery!” when, in my opinion, the appropriate tone would have been more “We’re going to the dentist.”

“Skiing, huh?”

“Yeah, Aunt Rache. Skiing. We’re at a ski resort. People come here to ski. You bought all your new ski-bunny stuff for just that purpose. Remember?”

I swallowed hard. “Far be it from me to ruin everyone’s good time. You all go on, and I’ll see you around lunchtime.” I started to close the door.

Misty pushed back, preventing that. “I told Mason you’d try to weasel out of it, but he says you promised to do everything together for the entire trip.” She grinned. “I
thought
you two had a little something-something going on.”

“We do not have anything-anything going on.”

She thinned her lips and tilted her head to one side.

“All right,” I said, “there might be a very small thing in its formative stages, but—”

“I never even got a chance to see the clothes you bought. Did you shop where I told you?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes, but she was pushing her way into my room now, opening my closet.

“Who helped you?”

“I don’t know. Some redhead.”

“Char. Great, Char knows her stuff and— Ooh, is this it?”

She pulled out my brand-new ski outfit, black and white, and very much what a seasoned and competent skier would wear. It would look ridiculous tumbling down the hill with me inside it. It would probably go on strike after day one, if it had any self-respect.

She threw my ski pants and jacket on the bed. “Where’s your hat and scarf?”

I just pointed. She went to the dresser, opened the top drawer and pulled them out. “Red. Perfect. Just the dash of color you need with this.” She tossed them on top of the rest. “Look, the jacket has red zippers and pulls. This is super-cute, Aunt Rache. You’re gonna make Mason’s eyeballs pop.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be amazed at my grace.”

“Don’t be too worried. He can’t ski, either.”

I looked up, hope lighting a match in the darkness of my heart. “He can’t?”

“He’s been having the same fits you’re having. All worried about looking stupid in front of you. Not that he said that out loud, of course, but I could tell. You two can laugh at each other. It’ll be fun.”

Four hours later I had to admit that it
had
been fun. I’d burned off enough calories to eat whatever I wanted the entire time we stayed, which was gratifying, because, in case it’s not obvious by now, I like to eat. And after an hour on the bunny slope, Mason and I managed to stay upright going down some hills that were a little bit more challenging.

It was hard to keep the kids in sight, since Jeremy and Misty were experts, at least compared to us. They went whooshing past us on a regular basis. Jeremy had even been smiling once or twice, and it seemed they’d hooked up with another young couple on the slopes, because I saw the four of them together more than once.

Marie and Josh had opted to stay at the water park down at the lodge. Mason hadn’t liked it, but Marie’s arguments had been logical. They were safe up here. No one knew where they’d gone. They were surrounded by other guests. Angela and Rosie and Marlayna were there to back her up.

Mason had a chat with Finnegan Smart, the head of security, as an added precaution, asking him to keep an extra eye on Marie and Josh.
That
was a man I wanted to wrap up and take home, just so I could listen to his brogue day and night.

We were on yet another run, and I was literally exhausted but couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face with sandpaper. I was doing it! I was
skiing,
leaning left and right, balancing with ease, speeding—for me—down a moderate slope beneath the bluest blue sky I had ever seen, with the cold air kissing my face and the smell of pine filling my lungs.

Mason came up from behind and was zooming along beside me, and I glanced his way, saw that he was grinning like a loon, too, and got stuck on him for a heartbeat too long.

Next thing I knew I was tumbling ass over applecart, as my mother used to say. He tripped over me, and then he was tumbling, too. We came to a stop eventually. I couldn’t believe both my skis were still on as I sat there in the snow, pushing my fallen—but cute—hat up off my face.

Mason was pushing himself up. He rolled over and looked at me, and his face was covered in snow. I burst out laughing before he brushed it away.

He was laughing, too.

Then he got up, got his skis underneath him and made his way over to me. He reached down, I grabbed hold of his gloved hands and he hauled me upright and brushed snow out of my hair, tucking it back under my hat where it belonged, still laughing. My eyes locked on to his, and laughter got stuck in my throat. His hands on my shoulders pulled me just a little, and his head came down. I closed my eyes, and he kissed me. It was slow, and tender, and it lasted a long time, yet not long enough. And then he straightened and said, “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You want to call it a morning, head down to the lodge for some lunch?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll get hold of the kids, then.”

“Mm-hm.” What had happened to my power of speech? What the hell had that kiss been about? Hadn’t he just told me last night that he didn’t think the timing was right? That he had to make sure we got this killer first, and that—

He pulled a walkie-talkie out of somewhere. “Where’d you get that?” I asked.

Right, your ability to speak is finally restored and
that’s
the question you ask?

“It’s Josh’s. He loaned one to me for the morning. Jeremy has the other one.”

“Smart thinking.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll grab another set, maybe two sets, if they have them in the ski shop. Handy as hell. But these are meant for kids. Not much range.” He depressed a button. “Jer, you read me?”

He waited a few seconds, then tried again.

This time Jeremy replied. “Gotcha. What’s up?”

“Ready to head down for a lunch break?”

“Yeah, we’re starved. Meet you by the lifts.”

Mason nodded and replaced the radio. Then he turned to me again, and his eyes got all funny. Like he was trying to think of what he should say but not coming up with anything. He started to speak twice, then stopped again.

I figured I might as well help him out. “So what did that kiss mean, Mason?”

He blinked. “I don’t know. I was just being in the moment. You know, like your books always say to be.” He looked down the trail, not at me. The lodge wasn’t too far away. “Did you mind?”

“Hell, no.”

“So then we’re good.”

“Yeah, I just...”
Just want to know what’s next. Are you going to kiss me again? Are we dating now? Was it a one-time thing? Can we have sex tonight?

“Just what?”

I shook my head, smiled a little and reminded myself that according to my regurgitated sermons, being in the moment meant just that, doing what felt right and enjoying it without judging it, picking it apart, analyzing it, looking ahead or looking behind. And he would surely throw all of that back at me if I said any of the things I was thinking. So instead I said, “Race you to the bottom,” put a hand on his chest and pushed him. He fell on his ass in the snow, and then I pushed off with my ski poles to get a head start.

* * *

A big sign on the glass doors told us that a special holiday lunch was being served, buffet style, in the sunroom. It was a massive glass dome at the end of a long hallway, and it had a nearly 360-degree view of the mountains and pines around the lodge. And even with that, you couldn’t see another home or business. Nothing but the lodge and its various structures, a few of the outlying cabins, like ours, which was a long walk or a short drive along one of the many narrow, winding roads.

The four of us hung our jackets and ski pants in the designated area and trooped inside, spotting Marie at a large table with that same man I’d noticed her looking at in the group of carolers last night.

Mason nudged me with an elbow. “That’s the guy she was talking to in the water park the night we checked in.”

“He was with the carolers, too. I thought it looked as if she knew him.”

She saw us at the same time and waved us over.

I smiled back at her, and leaned closer to Mason. “Look at her. She looks...better.”

“Jeremy doesn’t.”

I glanced past him at Jeremy. He looked ready to bite nails in half. Misty closed her hand on his forearm, and whispered something to him. He nodded once and seemed to relax a little as we all headed for the table.

“Josh and Angela are already in line,” Marie said, nodding toward the steady flow of traffic past the buffet in the center of the room. “This is all gratis. I love this place.”

The dark-haired man got to his feet. “Hello again, Mason.” He offered a hand. Mason shook it, but he looked about as impressed as Jeremy did.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” I said. “I’m Rachel.”

“Scott Douglas.” He took my hand. Firm, but not too firm. Dry, warm. Perfectly normal hand. I was trying to compare its size to the one that had reached for me from behind that day in my car, the one that had jammed a needle into my shoulder, and decided this guy’s hand seemed quite a bit bigger.

Then again, my attacker had been wearing a black glove, and black tended to make things look smaller, didn’t it?

“This is my niece Misty, and Jeremy is Marie’s other son.”

“Hello.”

“Hi,” Misty said.

Jeremy tugged his hand from hers and walked away. Not a word, just walked away.

“I’m sorry, Scott,” Marie said. “I’d better go talk to him.”

“Why don’t you let me do that, Marie?” Mason said. “It might go better.”

She held his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Scott, I think—”

“I actually have to get back,” he said. Guess the guy knew when he wasn’t wanted. It was a shame. I hadn’t seen this much color in Marie’s cheeks before today. “I’ll see you later.” He patted her hand where it lay on the table, but that was all.

Misty was already jogging over to get in line beside Jeremy, so I decided to sit with Marie.

“Go ahead, go get food,” she said. “I can hold the table.”

“I’ll wait with you.” She was staring at her eldest son, so I did likewise. “He’s going to be okay, you know. He was actually smiling out there on the slopes today.”

She sighed. “I think he likes your niece.”

“I think she likes him back. You know, there’s nothing like a new romance to heal a broken heart, Marie. I think Misty might be just the right medicine for Jeremy.”
And this Scott character, assuming he’s not an organ thief, might be just the right medicine for Marie.

She nodded. “I just hope Jeremy’s not bad medicine for Misty,” she said softly. “He’s been so...dark.”

“He’s depressed, I think. Has he seen anyone?”

“For a while, right after, but he refused to keep going. Then he came home drunk one night last week.”

“Hell. Does Mason know?”

She nodded. “I don’t want him to think badly of Jeremy. But...something’s wrong. It’s like his father’s death broke something inside him. And I can’t reach him anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Marie. After everything you’ve already been through, you just don’t need this.”

She nodded. “Thanks for that.”

“You know, maybe this time up here will help. Being around Misty, seeing everyone finding a way to go on, seeing that it’s still possible to have a good time, all of that. Maybe you can both start to heal up here.”

“Did you see the way he looked at me when he came in here?”

I nodded. It had been pretty hateful. “I think it was Scott. I think he’s going to resent you so much as speaking to any new man, no matter how unfair it is.”

“There’s nothing going on with Scott,” she said, color rushing into her face. “I mean, he’s nice, attentive, but—”

“He’s interested in you. And why wouldn’t he be? You’re a beautiful woman. Relax and have fun with this, Marie. You deserve a vacation. Leave all the stress and worry and grieving and death behind for a little while.”

She nodded slowly, her head down, but then she brought her head up again and met my eyes. “Except death is why we came up here, isn’t it? Hard to forget that. My husband is dead. My baby is dead. Somebody wants me dead. And my son hates me. I don’t know how I can even think about having a good time with all of that.”

I acted without thinking first, covered her hands on the table with mine, opened my mouth and spouted a line straight out of one of my books. “The situation is what it is, Marie. You can be miserable because of it, or you can find a way to feel better in spite of it. Just reach for relief right now. Anything that makes you feel better is the right move. Okay?”

She met my eyes, tipping her head to one side. “No wonder you’re so successful, if that’s the sort of thing in your books. Thank you, Rachel. I’m going to try to do just that.”

Huh. Go figure.

The crew returned with their plates overflowing, and to my surprise, Mason had filled one for me and Josh brought one for Marie, so we didn’t have to get up and go through the line.

Waitstaff meandered through, filling coffee cups, and a woman with a face that could have won her Miss America back in her younger days stood front and center, and tapped a glass with a fork until everyone quieted down. The woman wore black leggings, furry boots and a long gold sweater with a wide cowl collar. Her hair was a mass of artfully tousled blond ringlets, and the only hints of age were the beginnings of laugh lines around her eyes. She wore no wedding band.

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