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Shiver(78)

By:Tiffinie Helmer


He cursed and started the Tahoe, fishtailing out of the parking lot. “You’re the most stubborn person I know.”

“Back at ya. Now what the hell is going on?”

He tightened his lips into a thin line of defiance. It wasn’t going to work.

“Why is your cousin here? And don’t tell me she came for a vacation. She’s the beach bunny type.”

“You don’t know a thing about her.”

“Then tell me. And why do you seem to care so much about Earl’s place burning? You offered to let the village burn it for the winter solstice.”

The Tahoe went into a skid, and Aidan let up on the gas, turning the wheel in the opposite direction, safely keeping the vehicle on the road and screaming toward the smoke, which was blacker and thicker the closer they got.

“There’s something inside that cabin someone is willing to kill for.”

“Then why burn it down?”

He gave her a sharp look. “He must have found it.”

“He? You know what it is, don’t you? What does it have to do with Lana?”

He let out an impatient sound. “Uncle Roland’s in town. Lana received a letter from him stating his intentions.”

“What are his intentions?” A trickle of dread snaked through her.

“Murder and theft,” he bit out.

“Whose murder?” she whispered, already suspecting the answer. The flexing of his jaw answered her question. “Why does he want you dead?”

“I killed his brother, remember? Roland believes in a biblical form of justice.”

“But…you were protecting someone.”

“He doesn’t see it that way.”

“Then what the hell are we doing racing toward Earl’s? You should be leaving town.”

“Because I won’t run from him, and he’s after the gold.”

“What gold?”

“Your father’s.”

“What?”

He sighed and finally gave into her questions. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Somewhere Earl had to have hidden gold in that cabin. In the letter to Lana, Roland spoke of a windfall he was going to collect. Earl didn’t have anything…unless he’d hidden it. And the only thing I could think of that he would have hidden was gold. Gold he killed your father for.”

Raven sat still in the seat as they raced over the snow-packed back road. Shadows reached like demon fingers across the landscape as the sun gave up the fight. They rounded the corner, and there was the cabin, squatting un-charred but backlit by glowing flames. Smoke billowed and spread out from behind the cabin like death’s blanket smothering the birch and spruce trees.

Aidan jerked the Tahoe into park and swung open the door. “Stay here.”

“Like hell I will.” She opened her door.

“Damn it, Raven, I don’t have time to argue.”

“Then give it up, I’m coming with you.” She slammed her door, emphasizing her words.

Aidan swore a string of profanity, his face a mask of frustration and anger. “Stay behind me then.” He reached under the seat and pulled out a handgun. They ventured toward the cabin, Aidan scanning the area for danger. Raven kept her eyes wide open, watching his back, wishing she was also armed. Something besides the smoke didn’t feel right. Fire was always a threat in Alaska. Build-up of creosote in a chimney, a fire left unattended—the list was endless of how fires got out of hand, killed, and destroyed. She and Aidan crunched down the path, the sound of their feet and the hiss and crackle of flames the only noise. The pungent smell of smoke, much like a pleasant campfire, scented the area.

Rounding the corner toward the back of the cabin, Aidan suddenly stopped. “Well, shit.”

Raven plowed into the back of him. He reached out a hand to steady her, and she finally saw what he had. The lean-to that sheltered the stacks of chopped firewood simmered, reduced to flying ash and snapping coals. Flames had greedily eaten away at the wood and structure, leaving nothing to heat the cabin.

“That took me days to chop.”

“Your uncle really doesn’t want you staying out here.” Raven moved to stand beside him. “Crafty bastard.”

“Something’s off.” He eyed the dense trees. Fat snowflakes started to whisper in the air. “This doesn’t feel right.”

The flames were dying down as they ate up the fuel, smoke and glowing embers the only evidence of the lean-to and wood pile. There was no threat that the fire would spread. The only thing around the burn pile was snow. The forecasted storm started to dump its heavy load from the gray sky. Soon there would be no sign of the fire left.

“Roland wants me dead,” Aidan continued. “Why not just kill me. Why mess with me?”