Melting The Ice

Rex saw a hooded figure step out from under the cover of the dark portico across the walkway. Whoever it was began following Hannah toward the festive heart of White River village.

Chapter 4

The early-morning air was crisp, the clear sky pale and colorless, yet to be kissed by the sun. Within the hour it would burst over the mountain in a crashing symphony of gold chasing the chill into valley shadows until evening.

Hannah knew it would be a glorious August Saturday. It made the bizarre and sinister events of last night all the more incongruous. Was it really possible Amy had been murdered? What did Rex Logan have to do with it? What did he find in Amy’s apartment that they’d all missed? What was he really doing in White River?

She couldn’t go and talk to Staff Sgt. Fred LeFevre. Not yet. He’d laugh her out of the office. She needed to learn more from Rex.

But right now, this time was hers. She crouched down to tighten the laces of her runners. She would do hills today. She needed a good workout to clear the scuzz from her sleep-deprived brain and ease the kinks from her body.

Hannah broke into a slow run, rhythmically sucking the cool air down into her lungs and blowing it out into crisp clouds of vapor. She followed the trail from her condo down around the lakeshore to the point where White River flowed under the Callaghan Road bridge.

She jogged under the bridge, picking up one of the gravel trails that snaked through the park and up into the Moonstone foothills.

Her breathing was hard, deep and rhythmic now. She felt strong, in control. She found her pace as the sun peeked over the ridge and spilled suddenly into the valley, its warmth immediately noticeable on her back.

She had the trails to herself this morning. She could feel her body working, smooth, like an engine, warmth pulsing with each heartbeat through her limbs. The cold air was rough against the back of her throat. It felt good.

She slowed slightly, her body switching gears as the trail climbed into the trees. Her feet were cushioned as gravel gave way to spongy pine needles and fallen leaves. As she entered the woods, the trees strangled the morning sunshine off into cool dank shadows.

All Hannah could hear now was the sound of her own hard, steady breathing and White River, swollen and raging in the distance.

A crash in the undergrowth stopped her dead.

The noise was just ahead. Brush cracking.

Her brain identified the sound as her body screamed to flee.

But she held her ground. Hannah had been in these mountains long enough to learn not to run from a bear.

She started, one foot behind the other, backing down the trail, very slowly, just as the large ursine beast crashed through the undergrowth ahead.

It lumbered onto the trail. Hannah caught her breath. It was massive, well on its way of achieving its hibernation weight. She was used to seeing bears in White River but the primal awe at the sight of such a beast never left her.

The bear caught wind of Hannah and surged up onto its hind legs, opening and closing its mouth and swaying its head.

It was trying to get a better scent. Hannah kept backing away slowly.

Stay calm, give it space. She ran through a mental bear encounter checklist as she backed off.

She was so tightly wound she almost screamed when two little cubs scampered out of the trees in front of her, across the trail and into the brush on the other side. The big sow dropped to all fours, chomped her mouth and huffed at Hannah in warning before lumbering into the brush after her cubs.

She could feel the blood thudding through the arteries at her neck with each rapid pound of her heart. Filled with exhilaration and the adrenaline of fear, Hannah laughed out loud in release.

She waited until she could no longer hear the undergrowth crushing under the clumsy weight of the bruins before she again broke into a run.

But she was uneasy now. She couldn’t regain her stride. She kept glancing over her shoulder and hearing sounds in the trees, in the shadows.

She thought she could hear the thud of feet in the soft ground behind her. She felt like the hunted must feel, her senses heightened, nerves strung like a bow.

She heard the thud of feet again. And she felt a presence.

She stopped, swiped her damp brow with the back of her hand. Listening. Silence. Nothing.

Then a sharp crack in the brush.

Hannah uncoiled into a sprint, cut onto a trail that led to the suspension bridge, a lifeline over White River that would lead her to the village, people. Fear burned with cold air in her chest as she sprinted through the trees. Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision. She ran onto the bridge. Slats of wood bounced under her weight throwing her momentarily off balance. Water raged below. She stumbled, grabbed the cable railing, and made her way across to the wooden ramp that led off the bridge. She hit solid land, sprinted over a mound and turned sharply to her right. And ran straight into him.

He reeled back under the force of the collision, grabbing her shoulders in an effort to steady them both.

“Hannah. What is it?”

She pulled away from him and bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, the nausea of exertion rising in her stomach. “Rex…you…startled…me.” Her words came out in rasping gasps.

“Talk to me. What spooked you?”

Still bent over, panting, she looked up at him. He was also in workout gear. His dark hair hung tousled and damp over his brow. Was he chasing her?

“Nothing…bear and her cubs. I lost my head.”

He raised a brow. He didn’t believe her.

“Someone was following you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. As if he already knew. He scanned the trees on the far side of the river. “How long do you think he’s been watching you?”

“What?” She stood upright, hand pressed tight into the pain of the stitch at her waist. “What do you mean ‘how long’? Why would someone be ‘watching’ me?”

“Keep it down.”

She glanced back into the woods, following his gaze. He was making her really uneasy.

He put a hand on each shoulder. “You’re not safe, Hannah, not until I get to the bottom of this.” He looked into her eyes. She felt suddenly self-conscious. She caught the wild strand escaping from her ponytail and brushed it behind her ear.

“Listen to me, you need protection.”

She attempted a laugh. It came out hollow. “And who’s going to protect me? You? The guy who breaks into apartments?”

“Damn right I am.”

She pulled away from him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Hannah, someone followed you when you left Amy’s apartment last night.”

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her brain could no longer cope. It was in total overload.

“Hannah, we have to talk.” He looked around, then into her eyes. “But not here. Come, let me buy you breakfast.”

Coffee, she needed coffee. She needed space. He was crowding her, invading her life.