CA 35 Christmas Past (5 page)

           
He sat up, twisted
around to glance out the rear window. “You do this often?”

           
She navigated the
increasing village traffic. Tourists were already out in force. “I have to
admit, I’ve never facilitated an escape.”

           
“Could’ve
fooled me.”

           
She was going to have
to watch her step or he’d figure out she was a little too helpful.
A little too
around.

           
The roads were in good
condition despite the recent snowfall. A definite plus when maneuvering the
busy streets of the picturesque village. The early hour didn’t deter anyone.
They’d come here for the slopes and they weren’t wasting a single moment. The
village folks went all-out for Christmas.
Lights and greenery
in every window.
New York’s holiday window displays had nothing on
Aspen’s.

           
Add the ambience to the
great skiing, and tourists flocked to the area. During the winter season the
population of Aspen skyrocketed, making for close quarters on the streets and sidewalks
and in every other space thereabouts.

           
As she left the city
streets behind, her passenger spoke up. “Where exactly is this Mama Jo’s?”

           
“A
few miles outside town.”
She’d eaten there a million times. As a kid,
her family had often gone for Sunday brunch.

           
Then she realized just
how deeply she had thrust her booted foot into her mouth.

           
“How do you know the
place has the best coffee for a hundred miles? You’ve been here before? I
thought you said this was your first visit to Aspen.”

           
She didn’t have to look
at him to know he’d just put two and two together and come up with five. It was
inordinately clear in his voice. Not to mention he was staring a hole through
her.

           
“Don’t you do your
research before you take a vacation?” She did look at him then, as if she
couldn’t believe he would be so careless. She was skating on thin ice here.
She’d taken her cover over the top, given him way too many avenues to question.
And just as many for her to stumble over.

           
“What do you mean?”

           
“Honey—” she turned her
attention back to the road “—I check out every restaurant, shop and
accommodation I think I might be even remotely interested in. I work too hard
for my money to waste it. When the better
part of a hundred
reviews say
Mama Jo’s is the best breakfast stop for a few hundred
miles, I believe it’s in all likelihood so.”

           
Molly’s fingers
tightened on the steering wheel. She’d seriously screwed up there. If he didn’t
buy her excuse…this whole setup could crumble and her first field assignment
would be blown. Not a good way to cement her fledgling career as an
investigator at one of the top agencies in the nation.

           
If they could just get
past these sorts of questions, she would be good to go. He’d accepted the whole
“we have to share a room” setup. And, until now, he’d seemed to be satisfied
that she was who she said she was.

           
The more experienced
investigators at the Colby Agency had warned her about giving too much
information when developing a cover.
Keep it simple.
Give only the
absolutely necessary.

           
First time out, she’d
failed.

           
Idiot!

           
“I guess,” he finally
said, “I prefer taking the risk.”

           
Relief made her
shoulders sag. Thank God. She’d dodged the bullet on that one. She glanced at
him. “That could be because you can afford to. Those of us who
can’t,
don’t like risks that involve our bank accounts.”

           
Stop there, Molly.
Answer his
questions,
don’t dole out any additional
information.

           
“Well, I hope your
sources are right,” he commented. “I could use some serious coffee.”

           
“Me,
too.”
She flashed him a smile.
“Can’t hit the trail
without serious coffee.”

           
CHAPTER FIVE

           
“YOU’RE SURE THIS IS
the trail you want to take?”

           
Jason had already
answered that question.
Twice, in fact.
“You said
you’d considered it yourself.” He remembered distinctly her saying so at the
coffee shop. And she’d been right about the coffee. It was the best he’d ever
had.

           
“I’m okay with it.”
Molly opened the SUV’s rear hatch. “Any one of the fourteens is fine by me.”

           
Hadn’t she mentioned
this one? Maybe he was confusing what she’d said with…three years ago.

           
Flashes of Cynthia
laughing as they geared up that day three years ago kept twisting his gut. She
would point at the mountains in the distance and sigh.
Beautiful.
Hurry, Jason! We’re wasting the day!

           
She’d wanted to take
this route, even though it wasn’t recommended in the winter season. With the
heavy snowfall only days before their arrival, he’d urged her to reconsider.
She’d teased him, reminding him that the route was only a class three. Was he
afraid?

           
But it had proven a
strenuous eleven-hour trek to the summit.

           
Would he have noticed
something wasn’t right if he hadn’t been so physically exhausted? Could he have
done more to talk her out of going over that last cliff face for a photo
opportunity?

           
The answers were no. He
understood that. And yet the fear continued to haunt him.
To
paralyze him at the most inopportune times.

           
“…helmet?”

           
He blinked. “What?”
He’d missed whatever Molly was rambling on about.

           
“Do you have a helmet?”

           
“Yes.” Safety
First
was his motto. He had worn one, as recommended, the
last time.
So had Cynthia.
It hadn’t made a
difference. The mountain had still claimed her life as it had so many others.

           
Stop.

           
He had to focus on now.
His palms were sweating. His heart rate had sped up to a ridiculous level.
Panic was already clawing at his insides.

           
Ten minutes later, they
were fully geared up, crampons included, and tramping across the landscape. It
was damned cold. Maybe colder than last time. The wind was brisk and the sky
was clear, keeping the temperature hovering about the same as it had been at
dawn. The snow was packed fairly hard, making for an easier go than he’d
expected considering the fairly recent precipitation.

           
Molly pointed out the
various peaks and the breathtaking scenery as they followed the trail toward
Crater Lake. Jason nodded whenever she glanced his way and attempted to come up
with something intelligent to say in response. Mainly he focused on trying to
slow his heart rate. The increasing speed of the traitorous organ had little to
do with the cold and the physical exertion…This was the beginning.

           
Slow,
deep breaths.
Hold it.
Release.

           
He would not let this
happen.

           
“Almost there.” She pointed
out their goal, the
couloir
soaring toward the ridges
above.

           
Because of the extreme
mental focus required for forward movement and to keep his heart from bursting
from his chest, Molly ended up in the lead. She chattered on about how she’d
been planning this kind of adventure for months. That she’d climbed in other
places many times. At this point he couldn’t summon a response at all, but she
didn’t seem to notice.

           
They moved to the right
of their destination along climbers at the base of the headwall, then left to
avoid some of the more treacherous cliffs. The climbing had begun in earnest.

           
His legs felt like
leaden clubs. He stumbled once.
Couldn’t shake the
overwhelming sensation of impending doom.

           
Molly did a quick
turnaround and ended up on her butt for her trouble. She slid a few feet,
picked herself up and laughed it off. He choked out a laugh at her good-natured
reaction.
Didn’t help the tension pounding in his veins,
swelling in his throat.

           
Molly stopped, dropped
her pack on the ground. “I don’t know about you, but I need a breather.”

           
He couldn’t see her
eyes or her face around the sunglasses and ski mask she wore. No reason to
believe she’d taken this stop for his benefit.

           
“A break would be
good.” His words sounded tight and breathless. He worked at swallowing back the
lump of pulsing panic lodged in his throat.
Couldn’t.

           
She sat down on the
rocky and snow-packed ground, dug through her pack and pulled out her ice axe.
“I understand it gets a little tougher from here.”

           
He stared at the ice
axe; those moments before the latch on Cynthia’s harness had given way
completely rushed past his retinas. She had tried desperately to hang on to the
axe she’d buried to the hilt as her body hung precariously in the air.

           
The band around his
chest tightened to the point that any sort of breath was impossible.

           
He’d reached for her.
Urged her to grab hold of his hand.

           
But fear had paralyzed
her.

           
When he dangled half
over the ledge and grabbed for her…it was too late.

           
He’d clung to that
ledge…in shock…devastated. He didn’t even remember pulling himself back up. It
was a flat-out miracle he hadn’t fallen. Apparently instinct had taken over and
he’d dragged himself up.

           
Pay attention.
Molly was talking again. He could see her lips moving, but the words didn’t
make it past the haze of extreme anxiety swaddled around his brain.
Reach
into the pack and get the necessary equipment.
The order echoed in his mind
but he couldn’t move. He could only watch Molly prepare. Her lips continued to
move with her excited chatter.

           
Blood roared in his
ears.

           
Don’t do this.

           
“You okay?”

           
The question exploded
in his ears.

           
He blinked.
Gave a jerky nod.

           
Coming here with her
had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have let this morning get out of his control.
What the heck was wrong with him? He’d let the woman stay in his room. He’d
gone to breakfast with her, and now they were here…starting out just as he and
Cynthia had three years ago.

           
How had this happened?

           
MOLLY DIDN’T NEED TELEPATHIC
abilities to know this guy was terrified. His breathing was far too rapid.
His responses too slow and vague—if he responded at all.

           
According to the
information the agency had been given, he had no physical condition that would
create these symptoms. He appeared to be suffering from the panic attacks Mr.
Harris had warned Victoria about.

           
Molly had never
experienced a panic attack, but she’d done her research before coming on this
assignment. His blood pressure and heart rate would be out of bounds. Cold
sweat would break out on his skin.
Shaking hands.
The inability to interact appropriately.
And
the worst…a feeling of imminent doom beyond his control.

           
She looked around at
the sky. “You know we got a pretty late start today. Maybe we should check out
the area a little more, plan our ascent a little better and come back tomorrow.
I’m starting to get uneasy.” She shifted her attention back to him. “Will you
be mad if we go back now?”