The Gibson family had once owned the strip of mountain between the park and Tang Ranch, but that was before ranching had gotten too hard and they’d needed to cash out. Michael hadn’t faulted the family—they’d needed the money to start a new life for themselves—but Michael didn’t like the fact that selling had been their only good option. Pete Gibson had apologized to the Tangs one night, just after Christmas, not long after he’d signed the deal. He’d told the family that the developers had promised to work with the community. But as soon as the snow had cleared that spring, the builders clear-cut all the trees on the mountainside—for fire safety, they’d said. And while this was true, there were other ways to avoid the forest fires that swept through the Sierra Nevada too often these days. First and foremost, not building right in the middle of forestland.
Once the trees were gone, there was nothing to be done about it, no matter how many codes they’d violated. Now the whole area was at a higher risk for avalanches in the snow and landslides in the rain.
Michael understood why Ellie would be stunned and hurt to find out her husband had been a part of that underhanded move—and then hidden it from her. But hearing more about what had happened with Sean’s family, Michael wondered if there wasn’t more to the story.
He turned the snowmobile up the mountain. They passed a sheer face of granite and a house came into view. They were now directly under the development.
“Which one is yours?” he asked through the intercom.
“The third one in on this side of the street.” She paused. “What are the chances someone is waiting for us?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out.” He sounded worried. “We’ll circle the area first to make sure.”
He steered them farther up the mountain at an angle until they were riding just below the bushes and trees that marked the edge of the properties. They passed one enormous house then another. Each one seemed to be a variation on a theme: an oversize blend of traditional wooden cabins often seen in this area but with more grandiose sensibilities. The backs of the houses were lined with windows that towered up two stories and looked out over the mountain.
“These places must cost a fortune to heat,” he said.
“They do. And when the power goes out and the generator is on, it’s twice as much,” she said. “Green Living Construction was having trouble selling these houses at first, so Sean and I took this one over informally. Just so more of the houses looked occupied, Sean said. It’s technically still owned by the company, which means Aidan and Clint can sell it out from under me at any time. I think that’s why they thought I’d be more cooperative—so I could reap the benefits of the arrangement.”
“You think both Aidan and Clint would agree to do that?”
Ellie gave a humorless laugh. “They’d probably sell it tomorrow if there weren’t still two more lots for sale.” She sighed softly before admitting, “The place was too big for just two of us, and now it’s ridiculous for just me.”
“Are you ready to let the house go?”
“I guess I am,” she said quietly, though he heard hesitation in her voice. Maybe she felt the same push and pull with the reminders of her past, too.
Michael slowed the snowmobile as they approached the back of the third house. He steered through the low trees then cut the motor. The embellished A-frame rose up out of the mountain, all wood and windows. The inside was dark, as far as he could see, and an untouched blanket of snow lay between them and an enormous deck that lined the back of the house and shot out into the yard. A motor droned in the distance, but it wasn’t close.
Behind him, Ellie shifted, first in one direction then the other.
“Any signs of life?” he asked.
“Nothing yet.”
“I’ll circle the perimeter.”
Michael started the snowmobile again and they puttered past the enormous deck, where the snow lay on the railing in towering white mounds. He pulled along the side. At one time, the trees would have separated one yard from another, but the newly planted saplings just barely poked through the feet of snow. It was bare, with each house looking into the next. They slowly moved into the front. Michael continued across the yard, out toward the street. He pulled up next to the bank left by the snowplow and came to a stop. Over the top, he could just barely see a long stretch of the road, snow-covered and empty in both directions.
“I see tracks in the driveway,” said Ellie.
Michael drove along the snowbank up to the driveway to get a better look. Below the bank from the plow, there was a layer of new snow interrupted by a fresh set of thick tire tracks.
Footprints came out from both sides of the cab of the truck. One set led to the front of the house and another ventured into the deeper snow, leading to the far side of the house. Two people had been there, checking out the place.
“The men in that white truck,” she said softly into the intercom. “You think it was them?”
“Let’s hope so,” said Michael. “Otherwise we have more problems on the way.”
“Both Aidan and Clint have access to a set of keys since the company still owns the place,” she said. “We never bothered changing the locks. But they don’t have the code to the alarm.”
The alarm wasn’t going off, so it was likely no one was inside. Yet.
Ellie motioned to the far side of the house, next to the garage, and he followed that route. As they rounded the corner, a snow-covered mound came into view.
“This is my escape plan,” she said, pointing at it. “There’s a snowmobile somewhere under there.”
“Do you have the keys?”
“We keep a set to everything in a lockbox next to the back door,” she said. “I drove it into town a few weeks ago, after the last storm. It’s gassed up, so all I need to do is pull off the cover.” She patted him on his arm. “Satisfied with my plan?”
It was, in fact, a good plan, though he didn’t feel any more comfortable leaving her on her own.
“Yes, I’m satisfied. But I don’t want to leave until you have the money and your ID in your hand and I watch you drive away.”
“Got it,” she said, but there was a softness in her voice. Then she blew out a breath. “Pull up in back, and let’s do this.”
SIX
Ellie fumbled with the keypad, her bare fingers stiff from the cold. The roof of the porch sheltered the entryway from the brunt of the snow that covered the rest of the deck, but drifts had blown in during the storm, leaving almost a foot of powder under her feet. She’d shoveled after each storm this winter, but there was easily three feet of wet snow currently weighing down the deck. Michael stood behind her, listening, watching the hillside for movement. The snow had mostly let up, just tiny flakes drifting down, but to the west, dark billows of clouds hung low, heading straight for them. She usually loved this calm as a storm rolled in, but today the quiet was ominous. Every noise, every gust of wind, every distant hum of a motor put her on high alert. Someone would return here looking for her. It was just a question of when.
The lockbox sprang open and Ellie grabbed the set of keys. She inserted the correct one into the back door and pulled it open. She stepped in and quickly keyed off the alarm, gesturing for Michael to enter the dark hallway. As soon as he shut the door, she reactivated it. “Just in case. If anyone tries to let themselves in with his key, we’ll know.”
“Good idea,” said Michael, stomping the melting snow off his boots.
“Don’t worry about tracking in snow,” she said. “We need to be ready to go.”
He nodded. “Where is the bag?”
