Murder On Ice (12 page)

George gasped and immediately started for the door.

“Sit down!” Nancy said firmly. “He's all right, and he's gone off somewhere. Besides, for your own protection, he doesn't want you with him.” She turned to Ned. “We need to talk. Alone. Now.”

“But what happened to Luke?” George cried.

“I'll tell you the whole story later,” Nancy replied, taking Ned's hand and leading him toward the kitchen.

Nancy pulled up two chairs and, in a low voice, told him about her morning and her suspicion about Gunther.

“Here.” Nancy pulled the two articles out of her jacket. “Read these.”

“Luke's Berntsen, all right,” Ned said when he'd finished reading and had examined the picture. “If Gunther
is
out to get him, I don't want George caught in the cross fire.”

“Me neither,” Nancy said. “But we can't get George to leave.”

“Look,” Ned said, “I'll try to convince her to go. Maybe she'll listen to me.”

“It's worth a try,” Nancy said.

They went back to the lounge and found that Gunther was gone. I hope Luke's keeping his eyes open for trouble, Nancy thought anxiously, but there was nothing she could do to help him.

Ned immediately took George off alone. When they came back, she said to the others, “You guys go pack. I,” she added defiantly, “am going to tell Luke we're leaving, even if I have to ski this whole mountain range to do it!”

Nancy and Bess headed for the bunk room and started throwing their clothes quickly into their bags. We'll head straight for the police, Nancy thought. I bet we can wrap up the case in no time flat.

“It's too bad we're leaving early,” Bess said,
“but I won't mind so much if Gunther decides to come with us.”

Nancy looked at her friend sympathetically. “I don't know how to tell you this, Bess,” she said, “but I don't think he will.” She gave a rapid summary of her suspicions about Gunther. “If he's the one who's after Luke, I'm sure he'll stay for the storm and try to finish him off. And if that's so, I just hope we can get the police out here before that happens.”

Bess's face was flushed. “Gunther isn't out to kill Luke,” she said steadily. “I
know
him.”

“We've all been fooled by people who seemed nice,” Nancy said.

Bess frowned at her. “Think what you want, but you'll find out you're wrong. Anyway, the thing that matters most is getting out of here. After all, somebody around here is a potential killer, and I don't want to be around if and when he succeeds. Come on, let's finish packing. I'll get George's stuff for her.”

Within an hour they were loading Nancy's car. Ned got the battery recharged, so there were no start-up problems. The power lines were down and Liz was using candles, firewood, and the generator out back to run the lodge. Gunther, as Nancy had predicted, had decided to stay on. George was close-mouthed and somber, standing mournfully beside Luke.

The snow was coming down much harder. The lodge looked like something from a dark fairy tale, with lights burning only in the windows of
the lounge. For a moment, that picture crystallized in Nancy's mind—the dark lodge; Luke deeply anxious and frightened; George, also frightened but defiant; Liz trying to be strong.

Then the image was broken by a voice calling cheerfully, “Hey, there.”

It was Michael Price on cross-country skis, coming from the direction of the Overlook and carrying a loaded backpack. “Where are you people going?” he asked.

“Someplace safe,” Luke replied stiffly. “Why are you here?”

Michael stared at Luke for a moment with a decidedly unfriendly air. Then he turned to Nancy. “I'm sorry you waited so long to leave. There's no point in trying to get out now. I heard at the hotel that the fallen power lines have blocked the roads to the highway. That's why I'm here—I brought you some supplies.” He pointed to his backpack.

“We have enough, but thanks for the thought,” Liz said quietly. “Why don't you all come back in?”

Michael set his backpack on the porch and helped Luke unload the luggage from the car. Suddenly Luke turned angrily away.

“I'm going to ski over to the hotel to see if I can get a two-way radio from somebody there,” he said. “Ours is out of commission. I can't get it to work at all.”

“Wait, Luke. I'll go with you,” George cried.

Luke turned, a gentle smile lighting his face as he looked at George. “No,” he told her. “You
stay here for now. But I'll meet you up at Lookout Ledge at nine o'clock, okay?” He turned to Michael. “I hope you're gone by the time I get back.” With that, he stalked away.

“There's that temper,” Michael said to Nancy, shaking his head. “See what I mean?”

But George overheard the comment. “If Luke's furious, you made him that way,” she snapped.

“Now, wait a minute—”

“No! You wait! I know exactly what you're up to, and I think you're disgusting! You're deliberately loading a guilt trip on him—” George broke off, her eyes blazing, and stormed into the lodge.

“What did I do?” Michael asked.

“You set that up,” Nancy answered absently. But her mind was on other things. In a way, she decided, she was glad they were staying on at the lodge. Now she would have to solve the mystery herself.

The rest of the time before dinner passed uncomfortably. Bess remembered that she had a small pocket radio somewhere in her luggage, and she dug it out. It produced mostly static, but provided a much-needed distraction.

Gunther asked her to dance to some barely audible rock music. From a news bulletin on the radio, they heard that, although the snow had stopped momentarily, the worst of the blizzard was yet to hit.

At last Liz brought in a huge pot of stew and set it on the table. “Dinner!” she announced.

Bess left to get George but came back to report that George wasn't eating.

“Oh, yes, she is,” Liz said grimly. “I'm sick and tired of all the emotional carrying on around here!” She stalked off in the direction of the dorm and reappeared with an angry-looking George in tow.

“I'd better beat the second onslaught of the storm,” Michael said. “Wish I could stay for dinner, but I don't think it's such a great idea.”

“Thanks for the provisions. I hope you get home safely,” Liz said.

The others, except for George, said good-bye, and then they all sat down to dinner. They were just finishing when the old wall clock began chiming the half-hour—eight-thirty.

George rose from the table and strode to the door. “I'm going to meet Luke at the ledge,” she said, as if daring her friends to try to stop her. She quickly put on her outdoor clothes, then stepped out into the storm.

Nancy stood up. “I'm going to follow her.”

Ned rose too. I'll go with you.”

“What about your ankle?” Nancy asked.

“It'll hold me. If you're going, I'm going.”

“Okay. Bess and Gunther, you stay here,” Nancy said. The last thing she needed was Gunther out at Lookout Ledge with Luke in the darkness. “Liz,” she continued, “we'll need directions to the ledge.”

“No problem,” Liz said.

A few minutes later, Ned and Nancy were pulling on their heavy outdoor clothing. Once
outside, they stepped into cross-country skis. Nancy stood for a moment, looking out into the dark forest. How still the night seemed. Every sound was strangely muffled by the falling snow.

Nancy shuddered. Somewhere in the silent night a killer lurked.

Ned reached out and squeezed Nancy's hand.

“I'm so glad you came!” she whispered.

“I would never have let you go out on this one alone,” Ned said. He kissed her softly, and they started off toward the ledge, searching the hillsides for some sign of George or Luke.

But when Nancy and Ned reached the ledge, there was no sign of them. “Where are they?” Nancy asked anxiously. She glanced at her watch. “It's ten after nine.”

“Maybe they've already met and have gone off together,” suggested Ned.

“Could be,” Nancy replied. “With this snow coming down, there's no way to tell whether there were tracks here ten minutes ago. Or else—” Nancy's words were cut off by a scream. “It's George!” she cried.

Nancy and Ned stood silently, listening. It was hard to tell which direction the scream had come from. The snow muffled and distorted all sounds.

Ned gripped Nancy's arm. “I could swear it came from right over there, through that clump of trees,” he whispered.

Then it came again, a loud, desperate scream, and the sounds of a struggle.

Nancy pushed off, skiing with all her strength and speed. Ned was right behind her. They burst
into a clearing and jerked to a stop, horror-struck.

On a narrow ledge, two figures were locked in a death struggle. George had been forced into a kneeling position on the cliff edge. Her back was arched and her hands scrabbled desperately to pull a masked figure's hands from around her throat. But that blue-and-white ski mask was distinctive—it was Luke Ericsen's!

G
EORGE STRUGGLED WITH
all her might, but the attacker—Luke?—was too strong. Luckily, at that moment, Ned shot forward. He grabbed Luke's arms from behind, wrestling him backward. At the same time, Nancy flung herself across George's legs and hung on. They were so near the edge of the cliff that one false move could send them over.

In the split second that Luke was thrown off-guard, George's hands grabbed his wrists and jerked them up and out. His hold broke and George fell backward, saved from the cliff edge only by Nancy's grip.

Ned battled Luke, throwing a punch into his masked face that rocked him back on his skis. Luke snatched up his ski pole and sent it
whistling toward Ned's head, but Ned blocked it, moving in for another punch. Suddenly, Luke kicked out viciously, his ski slamming into Ned's injured ankle. As Ned fell, he tried to tackle Luke.

Nancy looked up just in time to see Luke deftly sidestep Ned, then sweep up his other ski pole. Pushing off with his right leg, then his left, he vanished from sight around a curve in the path.

For a moment everyone remained frozen with shock. Then Ned scrambled to his feet and started after Luke.

“Not now!”
Nancy shouted. “We can get him later!” George needed them more. She was gasping for breath and sobbing as Nancy held her in a warm hug. There were bruises across her throat, and her hat and scarf were gone, pulled off in the struggle.
And Luke never even lost his ski mask,
Nancy thought with anger.

“Don't try to talk,” she murmured as George struggled to make herself understood. “Does anything feel as if it's been torn or broken?” George shook her head. Clearly she was hurt, but it didn't seem as if anything serious was wrong.

“What happened?” Ned asked.

“I don't know,” George whispered.

Nancy and Ned exchanged glances. They had never seen George so shaken before. It was going to be a while before she could begin to explain anything. “It's all right . . . it's all right,” Nancy soothed her. “You're safe now.” She only hoped she sounded more convinced of that than she
felt. They had scared Luke off, but there was no knowing what he would do next.

What mattered was getting George back to the lodge. “Can you walk?” Ned asked.

George nodded and started to pull herself to a standing position. Then her eyes, staring past the others, grew wide with fear. Nancy and Ned turned in the direction of her gaze.

A figure on skis had come soundlessly around the curve—a figure in a too familiar red-and-blue ski jacket and a ski mask rolled up into a cap. Luke had come back. He stopped short, looking at them blankly.

“What's going on?” Luke's face changed as George turned away from him, and he caught sight of her bruised neck.
“George, are you hurt?”
He started forward. George shrank away with a cry and Ned shot forward to fend Luke off.

“That's a strange question,” Nancy said, just barely controlling her fury.

Luke's eyes snapped from one figure to another. “What's happened? George, why didn't you show up at the hotel?”

Nancy stared at Luke, “What do you mean, at the hotel? You told her to meet you at Lookout Ledge. We all heard you!”

“Yes, but when I was at the h-hotel t-trying to borrow a shortwave radio,” Luke stammered, “the clerk said she had a message for me. She said George Fayne had called to say I should meet her at the hotel.”

He turned to George. “I waited and waited.
Finally I got worried and came looking for you. Now, will somebody
please
tell me what's happened?”

“You creep!” Ned burst out. “You
know
what happened. You just tried to strangle George and throw her over the ledge!”