Page 69 of Snow River

Had it been whisked by the wind and snagged onto his array?

Bear frowned, seeing that someone had tied it to the rail.It wasn’t there by accident.It was deliberate.But why?

He switched on the flashlight of his phone so he could see better, and examined the piece of cloth.It was long and narrow, made from red silk, with one end torn.

Bear scanned his surroundings with the flashlight.With this much snow, no one could just sneak in here.They’d leave footsteps in the snow.Even if they came on snowshoes, there would be obvious marks.Even if they used spruce branches to wipe away those tracks, it would still be evident that someone had been here.

Finally he saw the faintest traces of ski marks.The wind had blown the snow around enough so they’d nearly been masked.

Who had tied this here, and why?It felt like someone wanted to play a guessing game.Not a very fun one, if one of the clues was a murdered woman.What kind of demented person would do that?Someone very clever and manipulative.A sociopath.

Or maybe he was thinking about this all wrong.No one else had died since Rita Casey had been found.Maybe these other episodes weren’t connected to her murder.

He didn’t get a chance to show Lila the scrap of cloth until after the workday was done.They went upstairs and collapsed on the couch, while Jack Daniels stared at them imperiously from the windowsill.She curled against him, tucked under his arm, like a fern that still hadn’t unfurled.

“Our mystery prankster might have struck again.I found this tied to the solar array.”He showed her the bit of silk.“What do you think it is?”

She ran her fingers across it, as if trying to pick up any energetic traces left behind.“It looks like a bookmark to me.You know the kind that’s attached to a journal, sewn into the binding?”

He squinted at it, embarrassed that he didn’t do enough reading or journal writing to recognize it.“Yeah, looks right.It got ripped out of the journal.”

Lila peered at it more closely, then held it under the light of the nearest lamp.“Look at this.There’s writing on it.You can barely see it anymore.”

He leaned closer to her to see for himself.Sure enough, something was written in faded black ink along the bookmark.“Is that a date?”

“Yup.And a place.Nineteen eighty six.Snow River.”

She sat back and ran the bookmark through her fingers.“If it was a journal, maybe this was how the writer kept track of the time period they were writing in.”

“So someone kept a journal from Snow River in nineteen eighty-six.Do you think it was Nancy Butcher?”

“It could have been.I can ask Paulina if Nancy kept a journal, and if she recognizes this handwriting.”She glanced up at him.“I think I’m starting to speak this guy’s language.He left this because he wants us to look into Nancy’s time at Snow River.”

“So that’s what all this shit is?Clues?”He shook his head.“There’s got to be a better way to communicate.”

“But maybe there isn’t.They can’t, or they’re afraid.”

“You sound like you’re sympathetic to the guy.”

She cocked her head to think about it, probably feeling for that sixth sense of hers.“Not exactly.But I don’t think this person murdered Rita Casey.Someone else is out there and I think they’re trying to sound an alarm.”

32

After livingin New York the past few years, the pace of life in Firelight Ridge in the winter took some adjusting for Lila.To do anything, snow had to be cleared, vehicles had to be scraped and warmed up, and daylight had to be considered.The closer it came to Winter Solstice in December, the shorter the days got.It felt as if a blanket of night was closing in around them.Sometimes it felt to Lila like a comforting, swaddling blanket.Other times, it could feel claustrophobic.

“Headlamps are your friend,” Bear told her.He gave her a pack of three that he’d requested during Gunnar’s last trip to Costco in Fairbanks.She kept one in her coat pocket, one in her bedroom, and one on Bear’s nightstand.

That last visit from Allison had reminded her that her friendly neighborhood dead woman was an important source of information.She needed to be home for more dreams to come to her.At Bear’s, she dreamed about different things.Sex things, often.So she got into the habit of alternating between Bear’s bed and her own.Some nights he stayed at her place with her, but not every time.It hadn’t been easy, but she’d convinced him that she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

“With all this snow, no one’s going to sneak around without being spotted.And I promise to lock all doors and windows and train Goldilocks to use a baseball bat.”

“Ha ha.”

So it was a week before Lila made it out to Paulina’s place to talk to her about Nancy’s journal.Allison had said that the women in Fangtooth Gulch—as it was back then—stuck together.Maybe Paulina knew all about Nancy’s diary.

Bear wanted to come with her, but he had to train their new cook.Grant Cruz had happily accepted the job offer, committed to staying for the winter, and was working his first shift that very day.

“Besides, I need to get back on the horse,” she’d told Bear when he fretted about her driving alone in the snow.“I can’t be afraid to ever drive to Paulina’s by myself again,” she’d told him.“But I will be extra careful, I promise.”

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