Into the Storm (23 page)

“Dick’s family is trapped—they’re all killed in the fire. Except, mysteriously of course, their bodies were never recovered. No bones, no teeth, no wedding rings, no jewelry—except…The necklace that was missing all those years is discovered in the search through the rubble. It was hidden under a floorboard in the room where Dick had stayed, twenty years earlier.

“Dick vanishes, mad with grief, into the mountains,” Jenk told them. “Or so everyone thinks. What really happens—yeah, right—is that the gardener, Bill, came back and kidnapped Dick’s entire family, using the fire as a diversion. He lured Dick into the woods with a note, promising to free his wife and children, but of course, he breaks that promise, the same way Dick had broken his promise to Lydia, years before.

“So Bill the crazy gardener keeps Dick locked up, torturing him for the same number of years that Bill spent in prison, killing Dick’s mother and wife and daughters slowly in front of him, carving them up, before finally slashing and hacking them into a hundred pieces, all in retribution for Lydia’s death. By the time he lets him go, Dick’s completely insane. He still wanders this area at night. You know, cannibalizing little children who don’t brush their teeth before going to bed.”

“You suck at telling ghost stories, dude,” Izzy complained. “Couldn’t you, like, throw in a part right before the fire, where all those women at the hunting lodge hear this scary voice going,
Give me back my leg.
”

Jenk looked at Izzy in the rearview. Of course that meant he looked at Lindsey, too. She was laughing again.

“Whose leg and what does it have to do with anything?” Lindsey asked.

“I don’t know,” Iz said. “It’s just creepy. Like this leg is somewhere in the lodge.”

“Hopping around by itself?” Lindsey asked. She met Jenk’s eyes in the mirror, a big smile on her face, but then quickly looked away, her smile instantly dimmed.

“Another skeptic.” Izzy turned to the backseat. “How about you, Sophia? Ghost stories—thumbs-up or thumbs-down?”

“Down,” Sophia said. “I’m not a fan of stories that include carving and slashing and hacking innocent people into a hundred pieces.”

“But they’re not innocent,” Izzy pointed out. “They’re Peckerfarts.”

“So what are you saying?” Lopez asked. “That children are responsible for the sins of their fathers? No one subscribes to that anymore.”

“My father does,” Lindsey said, as Jenk focused on the road ahead. It looked blocked.

“Really?” Again, Lopez found Lindsey more fascinating than his map.

It
was
blocked. Jenk turned the headlights on a tree that had fallen across the road, illuminating it in the afternoon gloom as he braked to a stop.

Before Jenk put the SUV in park, Izzy was already out of the vehicle, examining the barrier. “We’re not going to be able to move this,” he reported. “You know, by dragging it. It’s huge.”

“Maybe if we bring in some chain saws.” Jenk joined him in the freezing afternoon. The air was unbelievably cold. Frozen-nose-hair cold.

“Maybe if we bring in a Caterpillar,” Dave had left the comfort of the car, too. “Not in our budget, huh?” he added, as Jenk and Izzy just looked at him.

There was another tree across the road, just a short distance away. It was even bigger than this one.

Lopez and Gillman followed Lindsey and Sophia out of the vehicle. The two SEALs were quite a pair. Gillman wore his jacket unzipped, no hat, no gloves. Lopez, on the other hand, had winter gear that was practically outer-space ready. Hood up over a ski mask, he looked like Kenny from
South Park.

“What?” he said, as Izzy laughed at him. “I don’t like the cold. Is that all right with you?”

He was carrying the map, but how he could read it was anyone’s guess. Lindsey gently took it from him. “Where are we?”

He pointed with one overstuffed-glove finger. “About a mile from the lodge.”

Lindsey looked at Jenk. “We don’t all have to go.”

He nodded. “Good idea. Izzy and I’ll—”

“Tom asked
me
to check the place out,” Lindsey interrupted him.

He tried to explain. “But it’ll take less time if—”

“Do
you
want to stay behind?” she asked him.

“I don’t want to stay behind,” Gillman said. “To come all this way, and then not see, you know, the scene of the crime?”

Jenk turned to him. “There was no crime. It’s a story, a myth, an urban legend.”

“Urban?” Izzy asked, looking around at all the trees.

“A mile’s not that far,” Sophia said. “I’d like to go.”

“Me, too,” Dave chimed in.

Jenk looked at Lopez. “You could stay with the car.”

“All by yourself,” Izzy pointed out. He made his voice quaver.
“Give me back my leg!”

“Now that I’m out here, it’s not really that cold,” Lopez said, hurrying to catch up with the others, who’d already humped it over the fallen tree.

“Wow,” Izzy said. “He’s either a chicken, or he thinks he’s got a chance with Sophia. Or Lindsey. He’s actually doing better with Linds—” He realized what he was saying and who he was saying it to. “Sorry, dude.”

Jenk turned off the car, grabbing both the bag with the MREs as well as the pack that traveled with the SUV. It contained a flashlight, a compass, and a hunting knife, along with other essentials like a first-aid kit and a rope. He locked the vehicle and pocketed the keys.

“This’ll be over in three hours,” Izzy said, taking the pack from him and shouldering it. “Tops.” It was clearly meant to be encouragement, but he ruined it by snickering. “Three hours. That always makes me think,
a three-hour tour.
” He sang the phrase from the
Gilligan’s Island
theme song, and then made the sound of thunder crashing. “We’d make great castaways. You could be the skipper. He was kind of short, too. Sophia and Lindsey are both a little bit Mary Ann, a little bit Ginger. And Dave is so obviously the professor. Gillman’s got the idiot thing down, and his nickname is even Gilligan, I mean, along with Fishboy and Fuckhead and—”

“Not helping,” Jenk informed him as he circumnavigated the second fallen tree.

“Not even the thought of Lopez cross-dressing and playing Mrs. Howell?” Izzy tried.

“Silence would be nice right now.”

They walked for a moment with only the sound of their feet crunching leaves and fallen branches and frozen mud. The sky was a uniform white, and the bare trees stood out stark and black against it. Even the evergreens seemed gray. It was beautiful in a bleak way, as if the world had become a subtly lit black-and-white art film, filled with angst and despair.

But the sound of laughter carried back from up the trail, and as Jenk rounded a curve he saw Lindsey’s red hat, her blue jacket.

Izzy ran to catch up with the others, leaving Jenk with more silence and frozen mud than he could ever possibly want in an entire lifetime.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

T
he view from the ruins of the hunting lodge was incredible.

Sophia picked her way down what had once been a broad, sloping expanse of lawn, toward the two outbuildings. Danny Gillman came out of the more squat of the two.

“I think this was probably some kind of smokehouse,” he said. “And see, look, over here. I’m pretty sure this is where the lodge owners set up their summer kitchen. The tables for the guests probably went here.”

He’d moved to a patch of ground that was relatively flat. And, sure enough, there looked to be the remains of a grill made from stones and bricks. It was reminiscent of the ones used by refugees in Kazbekistan in
their
summer kitchens, which were also usually their winter kitchens, considering their homes were tents.

“I’m pretty sure we can modify the smokehouse so the smoke actually exits the structure.” Danny started for the second building. “This other one looks a little too big to be an icehouse,” he said, “although it would make sense for them to keep it tucked back in the woods, in the shade.”

Sophia hesitated before following him, glancing back toward the ruins of the lodge. Izzy and Jay Lopez were racing each other up to the rise of the hill, where Tom Paoletti would no doubt want to put his communications tower—if he decided he wanted one. She spotted Dave near the last remaining walls of the burned-out main building, deep in discussion with Jenk and Lindsey. He was making good on the promise he’d made to Lindsey before they’d left the motel.
Please, please, please don’t let me be alone with Mark Jenkins.

Something had happened between Jenk and Lindsey over the past few days, something that put them at odds, which was a real shame. Sophia had thought that the spark she’d noticed whenever they were together was mutual, despite the SEAL’s silly infatuation with Tracy Shapiro. She’d felt glad for Lindsey, who spent far too much of her off time at home watching television and pretending her life was peachy keen just the way it was, thanks.

Sophia could relate.

And watching Lindsey with Jenk, she’d even felt a little envious.

But now, for the first time, she could finally appreciate the noninclusiveness of the SEALs, with their men-only teams. There would be no unhappy romantic entanglements there.

At least none to which anyone would admit.

“Still, the smokehouse is a little small,” Danny was saying. “As of right now, if this one’s in the same condition…Of course, we could always use tents, but…” He realized Sophia wasn’t right behind him and waited for her to catch up.

“An icehouse wouldn’t have a fireplace,” she pointed toward the chimney. That roof had definitely seen better days. There were saplings growing on it, like it was some kind of living fairyland cottage.

Danny laughed. “Yeah, that’s kind of oxymoronic, huh? Maybe this was a servant’s cottage. Maybe the gardener lived here. Maybe his spirit lives here still.” He shot her a look filled with such little boy pleasure and anticipation, she had to laugh.

The ancient, rusting padlock didn’t stop him. He had a picklock that he put to good use, and soon pushed the door open with a squeak of rusty hinges that was pure B-grade horror movie. And again, she laughed. Instead of going inside, he turned to face her.

“Hey, you know, I just wanted to tell you that Zanella’s totally wrong about me,” he said earnestly. “Yeah, I’m the third Dan Gillman, but there’s no trust fund or…I mean, I heard your ex-husband was some kind of millionaire so…”

He seemed to want some kind of response—a confirmation or maybe encouragement of some kind. But Sophia wasn’t sure where to start, with the fact checking—her husband Dimitri was dead, not an ex, and he had only played at being a millionaire—or some sort of personal mission statement to stem the tide, which was roaring to a place she didn’t want to go. A place where his next words would be,
How about we get together for dinner after we get back to California? I know this great little Thai restaurant…

I don’t date Navy SEALs.
Except she would date a Navy SEAL—a former one—if Decker would only ask her. She didn’t want to lie.

I don’t date children.
Except Jay Lopez was older, closer to her own age. She’d have to come up with a separate excuse for when
he
asked her out. And he would. She had no doubt about that.

Besides, what exactly did the reference to Dimitri have to do with Danny’s trust fund—or lack thereof? Was she supposed to conclude that he was looking for more than just a dinner date? Was he implying that he was interested in filling out an application to be Sophia’s second husband?

Third husband, really. Even though her sham of a marriage to Padsha Bashir, the warlord who’d killed Dimitri and locked her away in his palace, probably wouldn’t be upheld as legal here in the United States, Sophia found those particular months of her life impossible to forget.

Try as she might.

“I just wanted to be honest,” Danny continued when she stood there staring at him, mired in her uncertainty as to how to respond. “That’s really important to me. Honesty. I like everything out on the table—no secrets, no guessing. At least where I’m coming from. I mean, I like you. A lot. Why shouldn’t I be up front about that, right?”

He was like the hero in a Disney movie. Drawn with clean, clear lines—honorable, and upstanding and true.

Sophia didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she started with, “Danny, I like you, too.”

He didn’t let her get to the
but.
“Great, let’s have dinner. How’s tonight? Why wait to get back to—”

She clarified. “I like you as a friend.”

He didn’t so much as blink. “Even better. Friendship is the perfect place to start. I like you as a friend, too.”

“Seriously, there are too many reasons why I really can’t—”

He interrupted her. “I can give you just as many reasons—more—why you can and you should.” He smiled. “It’s the Navy SEAL way. We’re not easily scared off.”

“I prefer men who are more mature,” Sophia chose her words carefully. “I’m sorry, but you’re just not my type.”

He was undaunted. “I’m very mature.”

“I meant older, and you know it.”

He looked at his watch, frowning slightly. And when she tried to speak he held up one finger. “Wait…Okay, I’m older now.”

The smile he gave her was so mischievous, she laughed, which was a mistake. Because clearly he took it as encouragement. She forced her face into a more serious expression. “I
meant,
older than me. It’s just a preference, please don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I don’t. I get it. But it’s all the more reason to have dinner with me—see if maybe you’re wrong.”

“I’m not.”

“People are known to change their minds. My argument stands.”

“I have a ton of baggage,” she tried.

“I’m strong,” he countered. “I’ll carry it for a while, if you want.”

Oh, God. He meant it, too. “I won’t ever talk about any of it, about where I’ve been and what I’ve…been through, and you just said you hated secrets.”

Danny shook his head. “You misunderstood. I don’t hate them. I just don’t like having any myself. You want to know something about me? I’ll tell you. Anything. And I’ll be honest. You have my word. But if you want to hide yourself from me? That’s okay. I’d prefer you didn’t, and I like to think you won’t.” He reached out to touch her, a gentle caress of his thumb down her cheek. He wasn’t wearing gloves, and yet his hands were somehow warm. “I’m a nice guy,” he told her. “Maybe it’s time to make nice guys be your type.”

She stepped back, and blurted, “I’m in love with someone else.”

That one finally stopped him. He didn’t have an immediate comeback. In fact, he just gazed at her for several long seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but he cut her off.

“Okay, I’m definitely stupid for saying this, but whoever he is, have you
told
him? Because I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t turn cartwheels at that news. I mean, unless he’s married.”

“He’s not,” Sophia said. “He’s just…an idiot.”

“So he knows? And…Is he, like, gay?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.” How did this conversation get so completely out of hand?

“Not that it really matters,” Danny pointed out. “It doesn’t change how
you
feel. But okay. Okay. What are you going to do? Are you going to sit home alone for the rest of your life? No, right? Say it. No.”

“No,” she echoed, rolling her eyes.

“Very good.” His smile was contagious. “That’s step one. Step two’s just as easy. Give me one night. Just one. And I’ll make you forget you ever met him.” The look in his melted-chocolate eyes was now completely non-Disney.

Sophia laughed, even as her heart sank.
The Navy SEAL way,
he’d called it. She’d seen the Navy SEAL way before, plenty of times, with Tom Paoletti, with Mark Jenkins during their last training op, and with all the other SEALs who’d worked with Troubleshooters Incorporated. They were unstoppable when it came to achieving their goals.

The pathetic truth was that if Decker had truly wanted to overcome the plethora of obstacles between them, if he’d really wanted to establish a relationship with Sophia, he surely would have found a way by now.

“Soph! Sophia!”

That was Dave’s voice. She was out of his line of sight, and he was making sure she was okay.

“Here comes your guard dog.” Danny took her hand, and pulled her with him into the cabin.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” Sophia said, freeing her hand. “And don’t underestimate Dave—whoa.” The roof on the cabin had definitely seen better days. She could see the overcast sky through a gaping hole.

There was only one large room, its corners deep in shadow. The walls were made from logs, their bark roughly removed. Mud and moss had been used to block the cracks between them, but most of it had long since dried up and fallen out. There were no windows, just the door and a massive stone fireplace. There was no true ceiling, just exposed beams that supported the remains of the roof.

“Is it Dave?” Danny asked. “You know, your idiot? We could make him jealous. He could find us in here, making out.” He pulled her close, his arms around her, his eyes sparkling.

The floor was wood—wide, rough planks. It was covered with leaves and debris, and it groaned under their combined weight.

“Careful,” Sophia said. It came out little louder than a whisper. “I’m not…I don’t…”

“I’ve got you,” he said, choosing to interpret her warning as being about the floor. Years of rain had come pouring in through that hole in the roof. The wood beneath their feet was already old and surely decaying. “No worries. There’s probably not a basement in a cabin like this. At most there’s a twelve-inch space between the dirt and these floorboards.”

He smelled good. Even his breath. He must’ve popped a mint along with that padlock on the door. He was so different from the last man who’d put his heavy hands all over her. He was different, too, from Dimitri, who was actually about the same height, yet not as solidly built.

Sophia didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. Because
she
was the idiot, not Decker. The truth was, she’d never told him how she felt. She hadn’t called him up and left a message on his voice mail.
Hi, yes, it’s Sophia, how are you? I’m fine. In fact, I’m so much better these days. I’ve started rebuilding my life, but I’ve realized there’s something missing, and I’m pretty sure it’s you. I’m in love with you so…call me back, okay?

Because what if he did call her back—or better yet, what if he showed up at her apartment? And what if, during the big romantic moment, when he took her into his arms and declared his undying love for her…what if she froze?

What if the traumas of her past made her start to shake and sweat and need to push him away?

She usually hated being touched by anyone. A hand on her shoulder could make her flinch. Yet here was Danny Gillman, leaning in for a kiss—no doubt because she was standing there gawking up at him, as if she wanted him to kiss her.

For the first time in forever she could imagine that, if he were Decker, she would close her eyes and lift her mouth…

He kissed her so sweetly, his mouth soft and warm, but when she opened her eyes, it was Danny who’d just kissed her.

She pulled free from his arms—not because she was on the verge of panic, but because the look on his face was of having just found heaven. What on earth was she doing? She jumped backwards, and the floor gave, as if she were stepping onto a sponge, and then her foot went through and her leg went even farther down.

“Danny!”

“I’ve got you!” His mistake was lunging forward to try to grab her.

Sophia felt the entire floor go.

It was not twelve inches to the ground at the most. It was much farther, and she was falling. She heard herself scream, not for Danny who was falling with her, but for Dave.

She hit something—glass?—that shattered upon impact—ice!—then plunged into water with a splash. Deep water—
cold
water. The shock drove the air from her, and she gasped, but her head was submerged and she felt herself choke.

Which way was up? Her eyes were open, but it was so dark.

She tried to swim toward what had to be the surface, but felt a hand on her jacket, pulling on her. Why was Danny pulling her down? She fought but he didn’t let go, and she realized he was somehow hooked to her hood.

He was a deadweight, unmoving, and she knew with a frightening certainty that he must’ve hit his head.

She couldn’t let go of him. If she did, he would die.

If she didn’t, she would probably die, too.

She grabbed him under the arms, her lungs nearly exploding with her need for air, and she kicked for what she prayed was the surface.

After hearing Sophia scream, Dave ran, full sprint, for the cabin, Jenkins and Lindsey right behind him.

The door was open and it was dim inside, but he could see well enough to know what had happened. “Don’t go in!” The floor had given way. “Sophia!”