I haven’t spoken to Diana since I called her into my room. What she did could have gotten me killed—horribly. If I hadn’t shot Benjamin, there’s no way of knowing whether Mathias would have arrived before Benjamin cut my spinal cord. But Diana is convinced Mathias was watching over me, and that’s all she needs to justify what she did.
She can say it was for me, but she also said coming to Rockton was for me. You don’t make life-altering decisions for a friend. You just don’t. I keep looking for ways to redeem Diana. Redeem her or condemn her completely. It isn’t that easy. It may never be that easy.
I’m tramping through the forest with Dalton. We set out on sleds to expand the search area, and now we’re on foot, hunting for prints in pristine snow. He has one glove off, hand wrapped around mine.
What happened two days ago hasn’t done anything to ease his fear something will happen to me, and he’s hanging on even tighter, sticking closer, not sleeping well. We’ll deal with that. For now, if this helps, I’ll leave my glove in my pocket, hold hands and let him know, in that small way, that I’m safe and I’m not going anywhere.
We round a stand of trees and see Mathias pulling Nicole on a makeshift toboggan. I break into a run, and Dalton doesn’t drop my hand—won’t drop it—just holds tighter and runs with me.
“She is fine,” Mathias says, in English, as we approach and see Nicole lying motionless on the toboggan. “Her captor was not kind to her, nor as careful as he was before, but she is fine.”
I still drop beside her and check. She’s sleeping soundly, bundled tight, her face bruised. I reach for the back of her neck. That’s all I can think about, seeing her so still—what he threatened me with. But there’s no damage there, and when my cool fingers touch her neck, she moves, just enough so I know she’s fine.
I rise. “Where’s Benjamin?”
“I have no idea. He escaped from me. I knew we were in the area where he put Nicole, so I decided to search for her rather than pursue him.”
Dalton nods. “Okay, first priority is getting her back to town. Tomorrow, you’ll come out with us and show us where you found Nicole.”
“That’s the problem, Eric. I do not remember where I found her.” Mathias rubs a gloved hand over his face. “It is so cold, and I have been out for two days, and I did not prepare properly. I have been eating snow for water, and I have not slept, and my mind … It may be hypothermia. It may be lack of sleep. I cannot think straight, and I did not pay attention to my surroundings.”
“That’s fine,” Dalton says. “You’ve left a decent trail. I’ll follow that. Casey will take you back—”
“Is that safe?” Mathias says. “I am disoriented. Casey is wounded. Nicole is unconscious. And there is a killer roaming the forest, one who wishes revenge on all of us.”
I glower at Mathias. Diana’s right—he does know exactly what to say. There’s no way Dalton will leave me now. He says we’ll come back tomorrow and pick up the trail, and we head to Rockton.
* * *
It’s night. Nicole is resting comfortably. We’ve talked. This time I was absolutely certain she’d want to get on a plane out of Rockton at first light. But she wants to stay. Her father ran, and trouble pursued, and all the running did nothing but screw up her life. So she is determined to stay and fight, even if what she fights now is only her fears. Sometimes, that’s the greatest threat of all.
If she changes her mind, Dalton will sneak her out of Rockton and accept whatever consequences that brings. It’s what we have to do for now. Hope that no one is forced to leave, no one who might pose an exposure threat, not until we know what happens when they go.
While Dalton and Anders deal with other issues, I go to the butcher shop, where I find Mathias cutting up rabbits.
“It’ll be easier if you just tell us where he is,” I say as I walk into the rear room.
“What do you mean?” he says in French. He’s lucky he doesn’t give me his sly smile, the one that says we both know the truth. If he did, I’d be tempted to use that cleaver on him. But as Diana said, he knows people. He knows their limits. So he just takes another rabbit and begins slicing it up the belly.
“Eric has to search,” I say. “He has to keep searching, wasting his time and letting people worry that we’re not safe, that Benjamin will be back.”
“He won’t be. He is badly injured, from your shot, and has wandered off to die.”
“And fallen into a hole?”
Now he smiles, but it’s one of genuine satisfaction. “I would like to think so, wouldn’t you?”
“You left him in that hole. You took Nicole and put him in, leaving him to die.”
“That would be…” He pauses, knife raised. “I should say ‘wrong,’ but somehow, I keep thinking the word I want is ‘fitting.’ Let’s imagine that is what happened to him. That he fell into the hole where he put Nicole, and he has just enough water that he will be in there for days, suffering, praying someone will come. Sadly, no one will.”
“Eric will be able to trace your tracks.”
“He can try. I believe I may have wandered. The mental confusion. And it seems as if it is going to snow tonight.”
“Eric shouldn’t have to search—”
“But he will. Even if he suspects the same thing you do. He must search. It’s in his nature. And you will not try to talk him out of it because you like his nature. He will search, and you will accompany him, in support.”