Heart of Ice

47

Louis ran the last hundred feet through the deepening snow, scrambled past the downed tree limb and up onto the veranda. Maisey was leaning heavily against the open front door, holding a bloody towel over her lip.

“Did Ross do that to you?” Louis demanded.

“Yes, but-”

She was shivering badly. He took her gently by the shoulders and tried to steer her back into the foyer, but she pushed against him.

“You have to go after them!”

Louis had called Rafsky, telling him to intercept Ross at the airport, although he was sure no plane was taking off in this ice storm.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Maisey,” he said. “Detective Rafsky is at the airport right now. He’ll arrest Ross and-”

“He didn’t go to the airport!” Maisey said.

“What?”

“He took Julie down the path.”

“What path? What are you talking about?”

She pointed to the left. “Over there.”

Louis looked in the direction Maisey was pointing. If there was a path there in the trees he couldn’t see it. But he did see footprints cutting away from the house.

“Where does the path go?” Louis asked.

“Down to the main road that circles the island,” Maisey said.

Louis did a quick calculation. About twenty minutes had passed since Maisey’s call and Rafsky was now sitting at the airport.

“Ross has a knife,” Maisey said.

Louis looked to the path. He couldn’t wait for Rafsky. He had to follow Ross.

He took Maisey by the shoulders. “Go back inside and lock the door,” he said. “Call the police station and tell them to radio Detective Rafsky. Tell him I’m following Ross and that Ross is headed down to the main road.”

Maisey started to cry.

“Where’s Cooper?” Louis asked.

Maisey shook her head. “He went to Doud’s.”

“Lock the door behind me,” he repeated. “And then call the police.”

Maisey nodded woodenly. After she closed the door Louis waited until he heard the click of the lock, then he jumped off the veranda. He followed the footprints through the snow toward the trees. As he drew closer he could see the tunneled opening of the path.

He pushed through the icy branches and trudged forward, tripping several times before he finally got the feel of the uneven ground as it sloped downhill. The chaotic footprints and drops of blood in the snow told him that Ross was dragging Julie and that she was fighting hard.

The wind grew brisker the closer he got to the lake, the icy snow like needles in the face. He drew up the hood of his parka and dipped his head, his steps slowed by the deepening drifts, his breath fast and hot.

Finally he emerged from the trees onto the road. He faced a canvas of frozen white lake and blowing snow that slithered across the horizon like chalk dust. There were no prints on the iced-over road, and he didn’t know the island well enough to figure out where Ross had gone.

Then he realized he was not very far from the lodge. It was maybe a half mile up the road. But why would Ross take Julie there?

He wanted to run but couldn’t manage more than a cautious trot on the icy road. He rounded a curve and spotted something moving in the distance-two dark figures standing out starkly against the vast white backdrop.

It was Ross, dragging Julie by the arm.

But Louis realized they weren’t heading away from him. They were moving perpendicular. They had veered sharply left and were moving faster now.

Where the hell was he going?

Then Louis saw the line of small dark spots in the white-Christmas trees. Ross was heading out onto the ice bridge.

Louis squinted to make out the trees that formed the bridge. Some stood erect, but most were lying on their sides, blown over in the storm. He finally reached a snowy patch in the road and got some traction. By the time he reached the place where Ross had left the road, Ross had dragged Julie about fifty feet out on the lake.

He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Chapman! Stop! It’s over. Let her go!”

Ross spun around. So did Julie. When she saw him, she pulled harder to get away from Ross. He gave her a vicious yank and began dragging her farther away.

Louis peered over his shoulder through the snow at the road, but there were no flashing red lights, no buzz of snowmobiles. Where the hell were the cops?

He looked back to the lake. Ross and Julie were almost lost in the swirling white. He had to go after them.

Louis slogged through a high drift and stopped. It was hard to tell where the shore ended and the lake began, just an even blanket of snow stretching before him.

He stepped out onto the ice, cautiously at first, then, as he gained confidence in the thickness of what lay beneath him, he moved more quickly. He had gone maybe fifty feet before he was close enough to Ross to shout at him again.

“Chapman!”

Ross didn’t look back this time. Julie was fighting him harder now, dropping down onto the ice in an attempt to slow him.

“Get up!” Ross screamed. He jerked her to her feet.

Louis stopped. Ross had the knife at Julie’s throat. Louis was only twenty feet away, but he could see her eyes locked on his, dark with fear.

“Let her go!” Louis yelled.

“Stay away! I’ll kill her!” Ross thrust the knife out at Louis.

Louis saw her move before Ross did, saw her leg come up. Ross screamed as her knee smashed into his groin. He doubled over, losing his grip on her coat and falling to the ice.

She stumbled away, crying, but found her footing and began to run. She was running away from Ross but also away from Louis. And in her panic, she was running away from the tree path.

“Julie!” Louis shouted. “Julie!”

His eyes shot to Ross, still kneeling on the ice, then back to Julie.

“Julie! Stop!”

She was still moving away from him, stumbling now in the blowing snow. He knew she was disoriented, probably not able to see the shore. He had to go out to her.

“Julie! Stop where you are! Don’t move! I’ll come to you.”

He looked back at Ross. He was standing, the knife at his feet. He looked in the direction where Julie had gone. Then he began to walk in the opposite direction.

Let him go. They’ll get him later.

Louis looked back to Julie. She had stopped, a small blur in Maisey’s green plaid coat.

“Julie! Stay where you are! I’m coming out there!”

The nearest tree marking the ice bridge was just five feet away, its silver tinsel rippling in the wind. Louis moved beyond it and started toward Julie. Five feet, ten. . maybe twenty.

A loud crack, like a rifle shot.

Louis froze. Afraid to look down, afraid to even take a breath.

Another crack.

The world dropped.