Page 12 of Chilled

Tarver nudged her elbow with his gloved hand. “Want to get out of here?”

His touch jumpstarted her numb brain, and she realized she wasn’t doing anything to solve this case but staring at a dead woman. “No.”

“Since you’re from around here, why don’t you ask the questions? They’ll trust you more.”

She nodded and made her way over to Dave. “Mr. Jorgensen, do you leave your hut out here all winter?”

“Yes, ma’am. Been out here since last November. Even left the auger all locked up inside. Didn’t think anyone would break in and use it.”

“Did you see any tire tracks or footprints nearby?” she asked.

“No, but then it snowed pretty heavy.”

“Thanks, Dave.” Brenna moved on to one of the sheriff’s deputies tasked with gathering the evidence. “Make sure you brush away loose snow. If someone drove out here, there should be packed snow tracks crushed into the ice beneath the fresh snow.”

He glanced up at the bright sunshine beating down on them. “If we’re gonna do it, it’ll have to be soon. That sun will melt the evidence, otherwise.”

Already, the new snow that hadn’t blown away with storm winds was soft and slushy. Brenna stared up at the clear blue sky. “If the sun keeps shining and the weather starts warming, it won’t be long before the ice thins.” As if to emphasize her point, a loud crack ripped through the air like the sound of a shotgun blast.

Nick jumped, his brow dropping into a fierce frown. “What the hell was that?”

“The ice cracking,” Brenna answered, ducking to hide a hint of a smile.

“Cracking?” He glanced around at the others. “And nobody’s worried about falling in?”

“Not yet,” Dave Jorgensen said. “The ice is still thick. It’ll hold.”

Brenna looked up at Nick, her lips twitching. “Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.” He inhaled deeply and rolled his neck and shoulders, clearly uncomfortable standing out on the frozen lake. “Where to?”

“I want to talk to Dr. Drummond’s neighbors.”

“The police department interviewed the folks on both sides, across the street and behind them. No one saw anything.”

“Then we need to ask again.” She snapped her collar up to block the wind. “There’s got to be something.”

“For once, I couldn’t agree with you more.” Nick slid on the ice, and Brenna put out a hand to steady him. When they reached her Jeep, he held her door. “Just can’t see the attraction in ice fishing. I always thought of lakes as places you swim or boat in, not drive on in a one-ton vehicle.”

Brenna climbed behind the wheel. “I never thought of it as a place to ditch a body. Makes me wonder where he’s left the others. Should we be examining all the fishing holes in the lake?”

“Not a bad thought. I’ll check with the sheriff.” Nick walked away across the ice, each step measured and careful.

Brenna hid a smile. At least he was game to step out on the ice. Some people wouldn’t dream of it. The thought of the ice cracking and dumping them into freezing waters was more than most cared to face.

As Nick climbed into the passenger seat, the image of Janine Drummond surfaced in Brenna’s thoughts, and she shuddered.

“Are you cold?” He closed his door, peeled off his gloves and held his hands to the heater vent.

“No, just chilled by what we found.”

“Yeah.” Nick’s lips thinned. “Now we know for sure we’re dealing with a killer.”

All the more reason to bring him in as soon as possible. She turned the vehicle and headed toward the shoreline, memories of better times flooding in.

“You act like you know your way around on the ice,” Nick said.

“I used to come out here with my father to ice fish.” She remembered the old ice hut he’d built with scrap lumber. As soon as the ice was thick enough to hold his truck, he’d drag the shanty out on the lake and spend many contented hours fishing for walleye and trout. Brenna had joined him most of the time, relaxed by the sound of the wind wailing against the boards and the companionable silence with her father.

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