Winter Study

Yet Ridley had been the one to bring Menechi

Katherine was cowed by her mentor but had pounded his chest, however pathetically, and run away. A

Jonah drifted untouched by the Sturm und Drang as he flew untouched by the earth for much of his life. He’d been Winter Study’s pilot for eighteen years; A

In the dumb show being played out on the other side of the glass, Jonah was slightly apart from the fray, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms folded over his chest, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

Robin had retreated to a low, narrow plank bench along the rear wall. Whether or not she brought anything but the TNT of youth and beauty to this stew, A

A

Like Menechi

“HELP ME” was fading, dimming out the same way it had appeared, line by line, in reverse order. Before hypothermia drove A

Ectoplasm, she mocked and went inside.

Bob either didn’t think his run-in with Katherine was important enough or, conversely, was too important to share.

A

“She was crying,” she finished. “She struck out at Bob, then ran. I don’t think she was in any shape mentally to plan an adventure.”

“Katherine was fine,” Bob said blandly.

“‘Fine’ is weeping and ru

“Snow was making her contacts go nuts, is all. She wanted to get back to the bunkhouse in a hurry, is my guess. You’ve been watching too much daytime television.” And he winked.

One day you’ll shoot your eye out with that thing, A

They made a perimeter search of the housing compound, A

And the fire. And the wine, A

“We’re not finding anybody tonight,” A

“If she is, it’s the last game she’ll ever play,” Ridley said grimly.

“She’ll freeze to death.” He was shouting. They were all shouting to be heard above the wind. Their puny noise did little to dent the immensity of the night and the storm.

“There’s three places she could survive,” Robin said. “If she broke into permanent housing, she might find blankets. Or, if she took some, she could make it in a shelter for a few hours.”

“Good,” A

Ridley started to protest but A

“Okay,” Ridley said. “You’re right. Come on, Jonah. You two be careful.” Ridley was one of those rare leaders who only choose to lead when they are in their area of strength. Maybe this once A

“Lead on,” A

Lean-tos – screened-in sheds for campers – were scattered along the bank of Washington Creek above the harbor, about a ten-minute walk from the housing area.

“It’s hard to believe a rational woman would spend the night freezing in an open shed when her toasty bed is so close,” A

“Thermal wimp,” Robin accused good-naturedly.

They shined their lights into every shelter. As the cold, dusty emptiness of one lean-to after another whispered of summers dead and winters lasting forever, hope dimmed. Had the missing woman been Robin, A

Katherine was none of these things.

Katherine was also not in any of the employee housing.

ANNA SLEPT FITFULLY, wriggling like an uneasy larva in her down cocoon. The single bed was adequate most nights, but this night she kept waking to find she’d squashed herself against the wall or was perilously close to falling off.

Robin didn’t sleep much better. A

Her dreams were thick and convoluted, dragging images from unrelated drawers and cobbling them together into stories Harlan Ellison couldn’t unravel. She woke, thinking she heard the howling of coyotes on her mother’s ranch. The call of a loon dragged her from sleep. She woke again to wretched disappointment, finding she was not in Paul’s arms but curled up like a sow bug on a strange bed.

The sun didn’t so much rise as the snow, still falling but with less vehemence, grew gray. There would be no search from the air. Breakfast was quick. Each person would take a radio and a different trail. Ridley attempted to call in to dispatch in Houghton, Michigan, to alert them to the situation, but radio contact, always sketchy, had been obliterated by the storm and the phone lines allowed more static than language. He e-mailed.