Page 27 of Mountain Summons

He leaned in, his expression eager. “Listen. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I’m writing an article, and I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about the skeleton.”

“I’m not sure I know any more than you,” she admitted. The media had devoured the story. For weeks, local newspapers—and even some international ones—had been full of the story. You’d think it was the most exciting thing to happen in Chamonix in the last seventy-five years.

“But you were there when the body was discovered.”

Lena nodded. “I was. But it was dark. I was injured, and more focused on not freezing to death.”

André chuckled, but his sharp, eager gaze told her he wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “Still, you saw it firsthand. That’s something.”

Lena blew lightly over her tea before taking a cautious sip. The warmth seeped into her, grounding her. “I saw part of it. Part of the skull. A few bones and some fabric that looked like a jacket. The forensic team are the ones who did the real work, and I wasn’t there for that.”

“Sure, but you were the first civilian to witness it.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What wasthatlike?”

She tilted her head. “Scary. Sad. A bit like stepping into somebody else’s story.” Because there was a chance that person didn’t get trapped there by accident. They might never learn what had happened. But he’d been there for seventy-five years.A lifetime.

A shiver ran through her at the thought. Lena took another sip of tea, willing the cold away.

André nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to the chill creeping up her spine. “The whole town is buzzing with speculation. You wouldn’t believe some of the theories I’ve heard.”

She huffed out a dry laugh. “Try me.”

“Well, the leading one is that it was a fugitive. A criminal on the run who got lost in the mountains.”

“Possible,” she admitted. She could make up stories like the best of them. But she’d seen the space where the body had been. “But I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Then there’s the idea that it’s a soldier. Maybe even a German soldier who deserted during the war.”

That theory made her stomach tighten slightly. It wasn’t impossible. The war had left its ghosts in these mountains.

André tapped his fingers against his mug. “Then there’s the romantic theory—star-crossed lovers. A man who vanished trying to reach someone he loved.”

Lena arched a brow. “That one sounds a little dramatic.”

“I guess we’ll never know what happened. But my boss has asked me to write an article about it. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something else … something nobody else knows,” he said, his eyes shining.

Her gaze drifted out the window. Snowflakes were falling in earnest now, swirling in the wind, settling on rooftops and coats and the cobbled streets.

“I can’t think of anything,” she said. Then, at his forlorn expression, added, “but I did take a few photographs.”

“Photographs?” André’s tongue darted over his lips.

She quickly put up a hand. “The police has them. They’re part of the ongoing investigation. I’m sorry. I can’t let you have a copy, or publish them.” He looked so crestfallen, she didn’t want to leave him like this. “But I could show you,” she added.

His enthusiasm returned in an instant. “Really?”

“Yes.” She pulled out her laptop and opened the files up. She’d cleaned up the images as best she could. They weren’t her best work, but if you considered the shape she’d been in, her fingers half-frozen, her ankle throbbing, they weren’t that bad, either. In one of them, one could clearly see the remains of the brown leather jacket the man had been wearing. In another, her camera had zoomed in on one arm bone, where a watch now hung limply from skeletal wrist bones. The goriest one of all showed the side of the man’s skull, where some strands of hair still remained attached.

André traced her screen with his fingertips, as if he could climb into the photographs. “Amazing. This—this is history, Lena.”

Lena smiled.Historymight be taking things too far, but it was flattering.

“Thank you so much for letting me see these. They’re really going to help inspire my article.” He looked down at his watch. “I’ve already taken too much of your time. But if you remember anything else, even the smallest thing, I’d love to hear it.”

She nodded, more out of politeness than agreement. “Sure. I’ll let you know.”

The conversation shifted after that—a few minutes of casual talk, old school memories, updates on mutual acquaintances—but Lena’s mind remained elsewhere. And outside, the snow kept falling.

12

---