He didn’t have anything else to explain how or why Sierra had vanished.
Bracing against the wind, he used his flashlight to survey the area directly off the porch. No visible tracks. No clothing or blood. Nothing that seemed out of place. But, of course, just about anything could be buried in the snow, including a body.
Amarok frowned as he watched the blizzard continue to pummel the cabin and the mountain rising behind it. They had to go. If they didn’t leave soon, they’d be stuck here. But he had to check the woodshed, in case there was something inside to indicate what had happened.
“Point me in the direction of the woodshed.” Amarok couldn’t see it; the darkness was too complete, and the beam of his flashlight couldn’t penetrate the snow beyond a few feet.
Leland didn’t point. He started to lead the way.
Amarok caught hold of his arm. “I’ve got it. You need to go back in before you freeze,” he said, but Leland refused to listen. Pulling away, he lifted his other arm to block the onslaught of the storm and continued to wade through the knee-deep drifts.
When Amarok’s flashlight landed on the five-by-eight-foot structure not far from the back porch, he pushed Leland out of the way. Whoever had broken into the shed hadn’t known how to use an ax, not efficiently, but had managed to get inside. That, in addition to what he’d seen so far, made him think it was Sierra. She came out, broke into the shed and carried more wood inside.
“That look like vomit to you?” he asked as Leland squeezed into the small space with him so they’d have some shelter and be able to hear each other.
Leland stared at the puddle Amarok had found. “Yeah. Smells like it, too.”
“She was sick out here. Was she ill before you left?”
“If she was, she didn’t say anything.”
Amarok wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he turned his attention elsewhere. “You told me the rental company didn’t give you the correct combination to the padlock?”
“They didn’t. If she broke in here, it was because she had to. There was no way to keep the stove going without more wood. When we left, I thought she had enough to get by, but that was before it started to storm.”
Amarok stepped back through the hole in the door, then lifted the lock, which still hung on the latch. “What was the combination the rental company provided?” he yelled. “Do you have it?”
“I can get it.”
The cabin gave off a faint glimmer in the dark, so Leland didn’t need a flashlight to trudge back to it. He hurried off and returned a few minutes later with a crumpled sheet of paper.
Sheltering the paper and holding the flashlight so they could both see what they were doing, Leland read the digits while Amarok tried the lock—which opened easily.
Leland’s jaw dropped at the sight. “How’d you do that? I tried at least ten times. Peter came out and tried, too. Didn’t work for either of us.”
So why did it work for him? Amarok refastened the lock and used the combination again—with the same result.
“This is nuts!” Leland cried. “Totally crazy!”
Amarok needed to bag the lock, too. “Are you sure you did it right?”
“Positive. It’s a standard combination lock, for Christ’s sake! Must not have worked for Sierra, either. Why else would she hack down the door?”
She could’ve been hiding in the shed for her own safety, and he could’ve been the one to use the ax. Maybe that was why she’d thrown up. She’d been terrified.
Apparently, Leland could tell what Amarok was thinking because he raised his hands. “I know how this looks, but I didn’t do anything to my sister. I swear it! I love her!” He gestured at the damage to the door. “And I can swing an ax a hell of a lot better than whoever caused this damage.”
Amarok couldn’t help believing him. Leland had seemed sincere from the start. Besides, he had two buddies who confirmed that Sierra had been fine when they’d left this morning and that the three of them had never been separated during the time they were out hunting.
Leland looked white as a ghost in the glow of the flashlight. Amarok worried that Sierra’s brother might be dealing with shock on top of the extreme weather. “Go get in the truck,” he said. “I have to take some pictures and bag the ax and the lock. Then we’re out of here.” He also planned to take a sample of that vomit, just in case it was needed for DNA testing.
“What do you mean?” Leland cried. “We can’t leave without Sierra!”
Amarok hated to say it, but there was nothing more they could do right now. Not until the storm blew over. “We have no choice.”
“Yes, we do!” Leland tried to block him. “We have to keep looking. She could need help!”
This cheechako didn’t understand. Alaska wasn’t Louisiana. If they didn’t get their asses off this mountain, and fast, they could wind up in serious trouble themselves.
Amarok grabbed hold of Leland’s coat and jerked him hard. “If you want to survive so you can find your sister, you’ll do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
Tears filled the other man’s eyes as the reality of their situation pierced through the panic—and he nodded.
*
She’d lost phone service again. Born and raised in Boston, where her parents and sister still lived, Evelyn was used to being able to communicate easily, move around easily and interact with a wide range of people. She hated feeling cut off, whether it was because of the size of the town, the distance to the closest urban hub, the weather or all three. She wasn’t ready for another hard winter. Going without cell service was difficult enough. She hadn’t owned a smartphone since she’d moved to Hilltop two years ago, and she missed the conveniences it provided. But a big storm often knocked out even regular phone service, which was the case tonight.
“Why couldn’t the government have decided to build Hanover House in Texas instead of Alaska?” she muttered. That was one of the other states the site committee had considered. In West Texas, which had been suggested, the worst things she would’ve had to deal with were a few hot summers. Or some dust and wind and bigger than normal bugs.
But then she never would’ve met Amarok.…
She bit her lip as that thought crossed her mind. Maybe there’d come a day when she’d wish she hadn’t met him. As much as she loved him, grateful as she was for the fact that he’d rebuilt her trust in love and intimacy, sometimes she was overwhelmed by a sort of … claustrophobic restlessness. Then she worried that she couldn’t remain in Alaska, couldn’t be completely satisfied here. And if she wasn’t going to stay, she and Amarok were racing toward a brick wall. In those moments, she knew she was crazy to be thinking about having a baby with him.
But when she was feeling lucky to have found him, when she was in his arms enjoying his incredible strength and tenderness, she wondered why any woman wouldn’t want to have a child with Amarok. Even if it meant living in a frozen wilderness for the rest of her life.
Absently, she petted Sigmund, who was curled up in her lap while Makita lay at the edge of the room, as far from the heat of the fire as he could get. Makita accompanied Amarok a good 80 percent of the time, hated to be away from his master. At every noise—a tree branch scraping against the house, an icicle cracking and falling from the eaves, the whistle of the wind as it whipped the snow—he’d lift his head and stare at the door with his ears cocked. As if he expected Amarok to realize he’d been left behind and come back for him.
“Are you going to sulk all night?” Evelyn asked.